The Key of Kilenya

by Andrea Pearson

  Jacob, Akeno, and Aloren finally made it to the original trail Akeno and Jacob had been following for so long.

  “Aloren?” Akeno asked.

  “Hmmm?”

  “Can you explain what happened in the basement of the castle? Why we couldn’t touch the water?”

  Jacob perked up, glad Akeno had asked his question. He wasn’t about to start a conversation with Aloren.

  “Of course,” she said. “The castle is built over Sonda Lake, one of the most dangerous parts of Redland. The water is really deep, but no one knows for sure how far down it goes because of the Eetu fish. They live only where the water is darkest—they can’t stand the sun, and so only come to the surface after it’s gone down. Eetu fish are really dangerous. Their fins can act like feet, giving them the ability to move quickly regardless of whether they’re on land or in water. They get to be huge—sometimes up to ten feet long. They have razor-sharp teeth that triple line their mouths, and are able to make a full-grown man disappear in a matter of seconds.”

  Jacob raised his eyebrows. These fish sounded like piranhas on steroids.

  Aloren looked at Akeno. “This isn’t the only reason why they’re so dangerous, though. If a drop of the water from their territory hits you, they will hunt you down until they’ve eaten or destroyed you. They’re able to sense where that water went, regardless of whether it has evaporated or not. They know when someone has come in contact with it—even just one drop.

  “Your only defense when you get wet is to hope you’re able to outrun them. They only last above water for an hour or so, but most people make the mistake of thinking they’ll die or retreat after that. This isn’t true. An Eetu fish can replenish itself with any water source big enough to cover its gills. Once it’s replenished, it continues the hunt. On average, it takes the Eetu fish around twenty-four hours to lose the scent of that bit of water.”

  Jacob glanced at Aloren—this topic was seriously fascinating to him, and he wanted to ask questions. That would require talking to her, though, and he wasn’t sure he was ready yet. He shook his head at himself for being so petty, then swallowed his pride. “What about the water the Eetu uses to replenish itself while on the chase?” he asked. “Does it become the fishes’ territory?”

  “No. Eetus have to live in the water for at least a full day to claim it as their own. Also, Sonda Lake is the only place where it’s deep enough or dark enough for them. They don’t survive very long in shallow water.”

  “So if I go down to the lake and touch the water right now, we’d be in big trouble?”

  “Again, no. The only water the Eetus claim as their own is what’s immediately around them.” Aloren pushed her hair out of her face. “There’s a crack somewhere in that room, letting them inside, and hundreds of Eetus live there.”

  “Yeah, I saw,” Jacob said. “When the wolves went in, it looked like the whole thing was moving. But how do they live so closely? Wouldn’t they constantly be killing one another for invading their water?”

  “Actually, no. Eetu fish live in relative peace with their own species.”

  “Is it possible to kill one?” Akeno asked.

  “Yes, but it’s difficult. No average man or woman has been able to defeat them, mostly because Eetus are fast and intelligent. The only safe bet is to outrun them, if that’ll even work.”

  “I bet a gun would take care of an Eetu fish in short order,” Jacob said, laughing. “Hey, what happens if someone takes some of the water without touching it? Like if they dipped a container into the water and then sealed it? Would they be able to use it as a weapon? You know, throw it on someone and have the fish chase that person down?”

  “It’s possible, I guess, but has never happened.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because no one has been down that far into the lake without getting killed in the process,” Aloren said. “And no one knows about the water in the tunnel, except for myself and the Dusts who live there, and Dusts aren’t intelligent enough to use it to their advantage.”

  “How do you know the castle so well?” Jacob asked.

  “I live there.”

  “With the Dusts?”

  Aloren glanced at Jacob. “Yeah. It's really not that hard to stand up to them. You just have to be smarter and present them with new obstacles. If the challenge is out of the norm, it'll take them months to figure it out. I just have to change my barriers—what I use to keep them out of my tower—every six months or so, and I'm completely fine.”

  The group fell into silence. Jacob couldn’t help but wonder if it was possible for him to get some of the Eetu water as a way to protect his companions and himself against the Lorkon.

  Akeno broke the silence by asking Jacob questions about his family. He was curious about how they interacted with each other, and it was easy for Jacob to forget Aloren’s presence while talking about home.

  After several minutes of discussion, Jacob realized that Aloren was paying close attention to what he was saying. He looked at her, surprised that for once she didn’t have a smile on her face. He felt uncomfortable when he noticed there were tears in her eyes. She glanced at him, then away, but not before Jacob saw the tears spill over.

  Jacob fidgeted with his hands, wracking his brain, trying to figure out what his mom would do if she were here. Probably make Aloren a cup of hot chocolate. That wasn’t possible . . . but there was food in his knapsack. He swung it off his shoulder and pulled out some apples. He tossed one to Akeno, kept one for himself, and gave another to Aloren. She accepted and took a big bite, not meeting his eyes.

  Jacob shrugged, deciding not to worry about it. He pulled the journal out of his bag, looking around at the countryside, surprised to see how far they had walked since leaving the city. The sun was very hot still, although it was late in the afternoon. Clouds were building in the sky to the south.

  “It looks like a storm’s coming,” Akeno said.

  “Storm?” Aloren looked up with a dismayed expression on her face.

  “Yeah, see it?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Storms aren’t good here.”

  “Why not?” Jacob asked.

  “They’re dangerous.” Aloren sped up, walking several paces in front of the boys instead of alongside them.

  “It’ll be a nice break from the heat, though,” Jacob called to her, wiping a drop of sweat off his forehead. He waited, but she didn’t answer. He looked around again. “Where are the Minyas?” It’d been a few minutes since he’d last felt them in his hair.

  “I don’t know,” Akeno said. “I didn’t see them leave.”

  “We’re going to need to find a way to keep them nearby. I’m tired of them flying off.”

  “Maybe they could sit in your knapsack for a while.”

  Jacob cupped his hand around his mouth. “September! Early! Where are you?”

  With a flash of light, the Minyas were next to him.

  “We’re here!” Early said.

  “Yeah. We weren’t very far,” September added.

  “All right, you two—you’ve wandered off way too many times. We want you to ride in my bag for a while.” He held his knapsack open. “In you go.”

  Early giggled and patted Jacob on the hand. “We’ll be good now.” She turned to September. “Another ride in his bag! Fun!” They disappeared into the knapsack.

  Jacob sighed. “We’ll see how long that lasts.” He left the bag open a couple of inches and carefully swung it back over his shoulders. Then he opened the book, deciding to make use of the light while he could.

  My name is Dmitri. I am twenty-three years old, and I live in the kingdom of Troosinal. Following the counsel of my mother, I have started this journal. She said there may come a time when our people will need to understand my history and that of our land.

  My father, the king, is named Ramantus. He is evil and always has been, following in the footsteps of the many kings and queens who have gone before him. His subjects fear and hat
e him. I will not speak of his acts of evil against them—however, let it be known the people hate him for good reason.

  Ramantus showed uncharacteristic wisdom in his choice of a wife.

  My mother was his exact opposite. Gentle, kind-hearted, loving—she did more for me than anyone else ever has. She died a couple of years ago—a death which could easily have been prevented if my father had cared to do so.

  Jacob stopped for a minute when he had to turn a page. He watched the words flow, then stop—the book must have realized he wasn’t internalizing the information. He laughed, trying to see if he could figure out a way to trick the book into giving more than he was actually reading. It didn’t work. He started to read again.

  Though it pains me to say, I followed closely in my father’s steps for several years, and he has chosen me as heir to the throne. I’m not even his eldest son. I wonder if he will still want me to take over when he finds out how different I am now.

  At my mother’s request, I will write of the things that caused the change in me—the first being a marriage she arranged for me—a marriage which still hasn’t taken place, and the terms of which were decided long before I realized what was going on, long before I started changing my life. The neighboring king and queen, Roylance and Ara Liese, agreed to allow me to marry their daughter, Arien, but only if I stopped the cruel and evil things I’d been doing. My mother, with her never-ending faith in me, agreed to the terms and took it upon herself to ensure I understood the gravity of my ways.

  The second event was a conversation between my mother and me, which I’m sad to say wasn’t very successful on either part. She did her best, in her ever-gentle manner, to show me where my father was wrong and where I was becoming like him. I didn’t listen, and responded with anger. This conversation, however, started things rolling in my heart and mind. I began recognizing how my father’s choices—and more importantly, my response to those choices—were influencing me.

  The last event was a culmination of many things. My father had become upset over something trivial, and he was angrier than I’d seen him in months. He entered the hall where the rest of the family played games together, yelling and cursing and throwing things. My dear sister, not paying attention to his mood, teased him. He turned on her, shoving her against the wall, and her head struck the stones. He was drunk and barely recognized he’d hurt her. My sister began to convulse, my brothers rushed to her aid, and my parents started yelling at each other. Ramantus threatened to physically punish my mother, then threw her in the dungeons.

  With close medical care, my sister survived—but Ezra feared permanent damage had been done, and he was right. Over the last few years, I’ve watched her become reticent and even unresponsive. Mother was already very ill and became much worse in the cold, damp air of the dungeon. We tried to release her, but my father kept the only key and didn’t listen to our pleas to let her go. She only lasted a week.

  Jacob stopped reading when Akeno and Aloren halted, letting the words of the book sink in. He’d never come across such corruption in his life, except through the media and studies of history. What would it be like to have a dad who acted that way, attacking the people he was supposed to love the most? It was hard to fathom—especially when Jacob’s parents treated each other with such respect.

  Aloren and Akeno were now setting up camp, carrying on an animated conversation. He had no desire to join them, deciding instead to take advantage of the last bit of sunlight.

  I was with her when she died. By then I’d experienced a complete change of heart—I no longer desired to do evil. I regretted the years of destruction I’d caused in others’ lives—regrets I still carry.

  My mother told me it was vital that no one know of the transitions I’d been experiencing—especially my father. Not even the servants. She said there would come a time when the people of Troosinal would be so badly abused by my father, so poorly treated by the noblemen that they would turn to wickedness for help and comfort. They would stop listening to anyone who brought messages of peace and hope. I’d need to leave the kingdom when this occurred—she said I would know when that time arrived.

  “Jacob, what’ve you been reading?” Akeno asked. Aloren wasn’t around.

  “It’s a journal written by the prince Gallus mentioned—Dmitri. Brojan and Kenji gave it to me while I was in Taga. It’s supposed to help me understand more of what’s going on here, but the only thing I’ve read so far is how wicked his dad was, and how Dmitri used to be wicked, but is good now.”

  Akeno finished making the fire and turned to the scrub oak and bushes near him. He touched one of the trees, and the leaves and branches folded into two separate huts. “What did you talk about with them?”

  “Apparently, the lady in the forest is a Lorkon.”

  “She is? She wasn’t at all what I thought they’d look like.”

  “Your dad said the females are different from the males, and it’s the guys who are really disgusting.” Jacob paused. “Was it a Lorkon that injured your dad in the war?”

  “Yes.” Akeno tested the strength of the huts by pushing against them in a few places. “He told us he was attacked with acid or something. Pretty horrendous.”

  “He told me the Lorkon blood burns like acid. They must have dripped it or poured it on him.”

  “Oh, wow. No wonder he never said exactly what happened. That’s disgusting.” Akeno sat on the ground near the fire, watching the logs burn. “Oh, I meant to ask you if you wanted to try cooking those potatoes.”

  Jacob’s thoughts flew to their extra company. “Tonight? Can’t we do it some other time?” Like, after Aloren was no longer with them . . .

  “They’re really not that hard to make.”

  Jacob suppressed a growl. “Fine. Teach me.”

  They began preparing dinner. Aloren returned, and there was surprise in her eyes when she saw them. She offered to help, but they had nearly finished, so she sat to wait.

  “Here, have some potatoes.” Jacob held a plate out to Aloren, surprised to see his hand tremble. Why was he nervous for her to try the food? A smile was behind her eyes when she took it, and, embarrassed, he pulled away, grabbed his own plate, and sat where she couldn’t see his face. He couldn’t help but feel a little irritated again—mainly with himself, though he wasn’t sure why. Deciding just to ignore it, he turned back to Akeno.

  “I wish we could listen to some music,” he said, taking a bite of potatoes. Too bad he hadn’t worn his iPod while he’d been shooting hoops—otherwise, he’d have it with him now. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d gone so long without music.

  “See if you can get the Minyas to sing for you,” Akeno said, organizing the food on his plate into neat piles. “It’s actually very entertaining.”

  “Uh, thanks, but no thanks. I think I’m Minyaed out for the rest of my life.”

  Aloren stretched out her long legs. “Yours haven’t seemed so bad to me.”

  “That’s because you haven’t had to deal with them for the last week,” Jacob said, leaning up against a large rock.

  Akeno disagreed. “You’ve only dealt with them for a couple of days. I’ve had to deal with them for the last week—four days of which you were unconscious.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve been around them your whole life, and so you’re used to them.” Jacob looked around. “Where are they, anyway?”

  “They went up into the trees,” Aloren said. “They smelled honey.”

  “Jacob, you have to remember that Minyas aren’t like humans or Makalos,” Akeno said. “They have a completely different set of social rules. And they don’t have a very developed intellect. They understand language fairly well, but that’s about it. They used to be kept as pets by the more wealthy Makalos and humans.”

  “Really? A pet Minya?” Jacob laughed out loud at this. Minyas were too human-like to be pets.

  “Is it so hard to imagine? I mean, they need some social training, but after that, many of them ar
e fairly loyal and like to belong to the same person for long periods of time.”

  Jacob finished the food on his plate and got seconds. He wanted to ask Aloren about her parents, but didn’t want to pry. How would she respond to personal questions? There was only one way to find out. “How did your parents get separated?”

  “I don’t really know. My mom had some memory problems that she got from an injury. I’ve always had the feeling it was a very traumatic experience for her.”

  “What were your parents like?”

  “My father wasn’t anyone really important, socially. I think he was one of many who worked in the stables at the castle. And I think my mother was a lady-in-waiting for a rich family in Maivoryl City. She spoke frequently about the woman for whom she worked, but was never clear about the details.”

  “What about your brother?” Jacob asked. “What do you know about him?”

  “Only a few things my mother told me. He was a blond-haired, blue-eyed boy with dimples. He was a tease, even though he was only two or three.”

  Jacob collected the other dishes and plates. Sitting still with Aloren nearby was unsettling, and he had to do something with his hands. “Why do you believe he’s in Maivoryl City?”

  “Because it’s the only place I haven’t looked for him yet. No one has left or entered the city for so many years—it would make sense if he were there.”

  “If no one has been able to leave it, how do you know for sure that people are still there?”

  “They were there when my mother left.”

  Jacob scraped off the dishes. “But how do you know any of them are still alive?”

  Akeno shot a warning glance at Jacob, probably wanting him to back off with the questions. The Makalo took over cleaning the dishes.

  “I guess I don’t know,” she said. “I just feel the need to go search the city. Please, Jacob, try to understand. If you were in my place, and your only sibling was lost, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to find him or her?”

  Jacob felt chastised—he’d been pushing too much, and Akeno was obviously aware of it. He stared at his hands, unsure what to say. “Yeah, I guess.” He picked at some dirt stuck to his palm, then sighed. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be a jerk.”

  “I know I probably seem crazy.”

  “No, just lonely. I’d hate to be in your shoes.”

  She didn’t respond for a minute, and Jacob wondered if he’d said something wrong.

  “I just wish my mother hadn’t gotten sick,” Aloren finally said. “She remembered a lot when I was little and told me stories about my father and brother, but she forgot most everything. I only vaguely remember the stories now. It’s so frustrating.”

  Jacob felt a sudden need to comfort her, though he wasn’t sure why or how. He hoped she wouldn’t start to cry and he wished his mom were there. “That really bites,” he said. “I mean, it stinks. I mean . . .” He stopped and snorted at himself, giving up. Curse girls. Curse the need he felt to protect Aloren from her own negative emotions.

  She smiled at him, her dimple showing. “It’s fine, Jacob. I’ve had a lot of time to deal with things.”

  Jacob was suddenly aware of how dirty his hair and clothes were. Feeling embarrassed, he looked away. His dad used to say something about society needing good women to keep men civilized—suddenly he understood what that meant.

  He stared up at the stars again, noticing the clouds were covering most of them.

  It began raining about thirty minutes after dinner was over. Akeno set off to make the tents stronger in preparation for the oncoming storm, and Aloren and Jacob put out the fire. Jacob did his part, then went into his and Akeno’s hut after everything was put away, wanting to avoid another awkward conversation.

  It took him a while to fall asleep. The rain started lightly at first, but got stronger and stronger, and the water seeped up through the branches and leaves where he lay. He tossed and turned for a while before finding a somewhat comfortable position, then fell into a restless sleep.