Below the Moon

by Alexis Marie Chute

  I have suspected for many sunsets the ill fate I have set in motion for us all. Within the shell of me, the struggle is like twisting ropes, and I weep for my soul’s companion, my Maiden. I did this to her, to us, and I fear there is no way to undo it, except for death.

  If my body dies before Telmakus assumes full control, then all will be saved from a terrible fate. If not, he will rule through me, and I will be prisoner along with my Maiden. Telmakus must be stopped.

  My mind is going crazy. With this all-consuming headache, I can’t process what I’ve read. Do Dad and Grandpa Archie know that the Lord is out to get us? Is his possession by the evil Lord complete? Which Lord is fighting right now, Dunakkus or Telmakus?

  A new thought creeps in and hurts more than the migraine. Why did Luggie not share the Olearons’ history with me? Why would he keep it a secret? My cheeks flush with fury. What is love if not honest? Maybe he doesn’t care as much as I thought.

  Then I remember the fancy metal key around my neck. It tingles against my skin, even now, beckoning to me. It was hidden in a covert pocket in one of King Tuggeron’s books, inside the decorative leather and metal cover that bound pages meant to be filled with the king’s exploits. I didn’t tell Luggie or his sister; I wasn’t convinced I could trust them back then or even after our bond grew deeper. Still, I kept my secret, as guilty as Luggie is with this glass history.

  The fight is loud—crashing rock, howls and wails, the crackle of fire—and smells like death—burnt bodies and blood. If I had anything more than green birds in me, I’d be sick. Too many questions ram my brain. Too much is at stake all around me. Pushing my hands (covered in Mom’s blood) against my temple, I apply pressure.

  My life doesn’t make sense, and it’s not fair. I need a minute to myself, for pity, before I take to heart Grandpa Archie’s words—about finding my inner courage, or whatever—and choose to be strong.

  I think about Mom and Dad and the mess they’re in. Our family is together but broken. I decide to tell Luggie about the key. Since the adults aren’t fixing things, that leaves it to me.

  The throbbing in my head careens down my neck where the cancer poisons me from the inside out. It makes me woozy. All I know for certain is that everything is getting worse—much worse.

  Needing an immediate outlet, I begin to draw. In a continuous stream of consciousness, I paint until I’m surrounded by curling vines covered with inky-wet pages and a river of tears.

  Chapter 39

  Tessa

  How is it we can communicate at a level beneath my consciousness, Finnah? I can only speak with Ella telepathically when awake and eavesdrop on the Bangols with all my effort, but here—wherever here is—I easily find you.”

  “Oh, Tessa.” Finnah laughs, and it is bells and wind chimes and echoes and raindrops. “You are unconscious right now; that is true. You will learn to harness your power, in time. Do not fret.”

  “Will I survive?”

  “If I answer that, will it not spoil the fun?”

  “You have a strange idea of fun …”

  “When you are awake, Tessa, your inner voice tells you what is true and what is false, which is not always accurate. It does this to protect you, though I do not believe you are a woman who needs protecting. You see, I am incomprehensible to that voice, and so our conversation is rejected before it has begun.”

  “How do I quiet myself so I can hear you? When I’m awake, I mean.”

  “Surrender. Welcome belief and disbelief as sisters, without judgment. You are not of that world, Tessa, but, indeed, there is magic on Earth; it is the derivative of Jarr, but not lesser than it. Its magic is different, hidden more deeply, harder to find, yet just as powerful. Fortunately, something even greater dwells inside of you.

  “Embrace that which you are, that which you have always been,” Finnah continues to chirp happily. “It is not faith to say that you claim your power. It is faith when you choose bravery in the face of terrible odds and cling to hope.”

  “Who are you really?”

  “You already know, Tessa. Look inside yourself and you will see.”

  Chapter 40

  Archie

  Archie’s legs move like a shooting star. He covers ground quickly, smoothly, and leaps over debris and bodies alike, never slowing. On all sides of him, Jarrwians fight the Millia. Olearons combine efforts with Bangols, surrounding the stone monsters in fire so that with each thunderous punch, sand is melted and the Millia are beaten back. The Steffanus warriors and sprites also unite, attacking from the air, from above and below, from in front and behind, trapping and thwarting many great golden flyers.

  Archie monitors the battle as he weaves his way through it. The smell of smoke, carrying burnt flesh, lodges in his nose. Ardenal stands at the center of the sandstorm, a dome of fire encircling his crisp patch of earth. Golden grit pummels him from every side as he melts it to glass rain. Sweat stains his royal-blue warrior’s jumpsuit, damp despite his blazing heat as he strains against the Millia.

  In Archie’s peripheral vision, he notices Zeno and the Lord propel forward a massive boulder burning with the heat of the absent sun. It bounces twice before rolling toward the heart of the sandy storm in Ardenal’s direction. Archie follows it. As the molten boulder advances through the Millia, it melts a cylindrical glass passageway through the sand. The soles of Archie’s shoes reek of burnt rubber as he follows the boulder but finds himself protected within the smooth tunnel.

  From inside, Archie observes the blackened earth, burned of its shrubbery and vines, littered in grey and red bodies and scorched wings. There are human remains as well, though he cannot tell the bodies apart through the sheen of the glass.

  The boulder passes Ardenal, and Archie skids to a slippery stop. He smashes his way through the glass and to the edge of Ardenal’s fiery dome. “Arden!” he hollers as loudly as he is able, choking on smoke as the heat coats his throat. “Arden!”

  Ardenal cannot turn; all his effort is spent in deflecting the attack. Archie takes a gravelly breath and dashes through the fire. He envelops his son in an embrace so tight that it creates a heat all its own.

  “Dad!” Ardenal says, maintaining the shield. Wrinkles of confusion ripple his otherwise creaseless face. “How did you make it through my fire?”

  Archie only says, “I need your help.” He fills in his son on Tessa’s condition. Ardenal shifts the burning shield to the opening in the tunnel, then extinguishes it. They slip inside the rounded glass passageway and sprint through the battle toward the zucos field.

  The screams, crashes of stone, splashes of gold, and sizzling of fire become quiet in Archie’s and Ardenal’s ears, replaced by the thudding of their feet on glass. Ardenal touches Archie’s arm, slowing him. They peer through the shimmering tunnel once surrounded by pelting waves of sand.

  “Where’d they go?” Archie mumbles.

  “The Millia,” Ardenal answers, “are leaving.” He shatters the glass to their left, and they emerge into air devoid of silt and sand. The vibration of the silence is deafening, trembling through their ears. Junin and a bedraggled Lady Sophia appear beside them.

  Lady Sophia smiles through her sooty face and says, “Oh, wonderful! I’m so relieved to see you two up and about!”

  “Are you wounded, Ardenal? Archibald?” asks Junin. She offers them a glass vial of the silvery wryst drink to restore their strength.

  Lady Sophia adds, “Or vulai bread?” She gestures to her sack. “From my stash. I knew it would come in handy.”

  Archie spots the Lord and Zeno approaching the coastline where Jarr-Wya floats in the distance, a black blotch on the horizon. They are at the cliffs’ edge, some hundred feet away. Senior Karish twists in a writhing column, slowly shrinking into human form.

  “Can you ladies take this”—Archie gestures to the wryst and vulai—“to Ella and Tessa? They’re just past those first semicircular stone walls. Tessa is injured—she was unconscious when I left her. Ella’s … well, fa
ding …”

  “We’re off to help!” Lady Sophia says brightly, hoisting her dress where the stitching ripped and now brushes through the volcanic ash that covers one-third of Lanzarote. She and Junin head for the vineyard.

  WHEN Archie and Ardenal reach the coast, the sour voice of Senior Karish hisses through the air. “More trouble than it’s worth!” he says with a sneer. “More trouble! We will return once the Star is ours, the Star is ours. If I were you all, I would be far away by then. Perhaps in a new world entirely.” Senior Karish cackles—a twisted, wicked laugh through wide sandy lips. From his breastplate of unbroken shells, still containing their aquatic life form, he detaches a conch shell and blows.

  His golden shape begins to crumble, first his head and then his shoulders and torso, until he is a mound of sand. The shells containing crabs and other creatures scurry away. The Millia, taking with them every fleck of ash, grain of sand, and tiny shard of lava rock from the eastern coast of Lanzarote, funnel into the air in a black-gold tornado. A rumble of disgruntled voices emerges from the sparkling vortex. Archie cannot make out their words, but the bloodthirsty tone is unmistakable.

  The sandstorm levitates toward Jarr-Wya. In the distance, across the Atlantic, Archie can see a hint of yellow. The tornado spins above the angry ocean, casting muted shadows on the water where the shellarks in their twisted exteriors can be seen ferrying sandy figures back to Jarr-Wya.

  “We must return our island to where it belongs, in Jarr.” Callisto is the first to speak.

  “All the boats are gone,” says Nate, his eyes on the marina.

  “It will take far too long for us Steffanus sisters to fly there,” Callisto says, pacing, “and till midday tomorrow for the sprites, if they make it at all.”

  Lillium shifts from one grasshopper-like foot to the other, whispering to her Wingies.

  “What about a Tillastrion?” Azkar suggests.

  Nameris shakes his head. “No, that will not work. A Tillastrion may transport us between worlds, but not from one place to another within the same world.”

  “What are our priorities here?” a voice says behind them.

  Archie startles at the sight of Tessa as she approaches.

  Ardenal runs to her and hugs her in an embrace that lifts her from her feet. He kisses her wounded forehead, where blood still glistens, though it no longer flows. His warm lips seal the cut. His hands cup Tessa’s face briefly before he grows aware of the eyes gawking at them, including Nate’s. Ardenal turns to Ella and lifts her weak body, returning to the gathering.

  “Our priorities, as I see them,” continues Tessa, “are, number one, find the Star, then return Jarr-Wya to Jarr.”

  Archie knows that when Tessa says “find the Star,” what she means is locate Ella’s cure.

  “No,” Callisto says. “Jarr-Wya must be returned first. Our battle with the Millia is far from over, and we cannot risk them remaining on Earth where this firm sea wind can scatter them to the farthest reaches. No.”

  “I have an idea.” The timid, boyish voice is Duggie-Sky’s. “I know it looks far but, well, I can get to Jarr-Wya with my gift from Rolace.”

  “That’s too far for you to teleport, little fella,” says Archie, stumbling over his words as he takes in Duggie-Sky’s new stature. “What if you don’t make it and end up treading water in the North Atlantic?”

  “I’ve done that distance before, Grandpa Archie.” Duggie-Sky smiles with gleaming white teeth. “Maybe not quite that far, but close.”

  Xlea steps past Callisto. Her face and arms are bruised from her imprisonment by Tuggeron, her wings blackened from the battle on Lanzarote. She still clutches her notebook, which, Archie notices, has a leather strap hand sewn to its binding. Xlea wears the notebook slung over her neck and around one shoulder. “I will help Duggie-Sky,” she says.

  Zeno snorts and the Lord shakes his head. “This is not an errand for children,” the Lord says.

  “I possess more bravery in my wing tips than you do in all your fire,” Xlea retorts hotly. Callisto hushes her with a firm hand on her back. Xlea takes a deep breath before continuing. “Please forgive me, Lord of Olearon—but let me explain how my size can be an advantage to our mission.”

  The Lord turns to Azkar, Islo, and Nameris, who nod. “How can you be of help?” the Lord says evenly.

  “Well,” begins Xlea, “Duggie-Sky can teleport me with him to Jarr-Wya. The added weight may make him fall short of the island, as you suggest, Archie, by how much I am not sure. Whatever the shortfall, I can carry him the rest of the way.”

  “You need to find the core of the Millia’s storm, which has not yet traveled half the distance in its return to Jarr-Wya. It made it there in a matter of breaths, so we have none to spare,” says Callisto. “The sandstorm is connected to our island, its golden teeth still firmly sunken into Jarr-Wya. If Duggie-Sky gets you close, then, Xlea, our best course is that you operate a Tillastrion midair, while surrounded by the Millia. This mission is perilous—you must be wise and careful. Xlea and Duggie-Sky, you two will transport yourselves, the Millia sands, and Jarr-Wya back to the world of Jarr.”

  “Then the rest of us will use a Tillastrion to transport ourselves to Jarr-Wya once we see the eighth island disappear,” says Lady Sophia eagerly.

  “And find the Star and Ella’s cure,” Tessa adds.

  Archie nods. Ardenal and Ella as well.

  “Lord?” Xlea inquires. “Do you agree?”

  “Yes,” says the Lord, standing tall and with steady eyes. “Jarr-Wya must be returned. We will await your success, then follow you.”

  Callisto retrieves a small device from the fabric of her piecemeal gown and places it tenderly in Xlea’s hands. Archie can see the delicate objects that make up this Tillastrion. There is a small brass box, and on its top is fastened a fired-clay Banji blossom. Xlea opens the box. Inside is a tiny blue feather, a black pebble from Baluurwa, a tarnished pocket watch, and a pink plastic button.

  Archie remembers what he read in the secret history of the Olearons as the first company ventured east. The Steffanus sisters, being Naiu-born and part human, can operate a Tillastrion by drawing on both aspects of themselves. Most Tillastrions, however, as Archie learned from Zeno, must be created by someone in the world wished to be reached and operated by someone from the world presently occupied. A Steffanus is one and the same.

  “Set your intentions on home, my dear,” Callisto says. She slides her silver hand from Xlea’s back to her tumbling sugar and cinnamon-colored hair, stroking it kindly. “Your desire will save us. Now go!”

  Xlea and Duggie-Sky find the edge of Lanzarote with their toes. Xlea wraps her arms around Duggie-Sky’s neck. Turning back one last time, Duggie-Sky smirks happily over his shoulder at Archie before saying, “See you in Jarr, Grandpa!” The human boy and young Steffanus girl disappear in a blink.

  “Prepare yourselves to be transported,” the Lord commands. “But not you.” He is looking at Zeno with a bizarre expression Archie cannot read. The Lord’s shoulders quiver ever so slightly.

  “What do you mean, not me?” growls Zeno.

  “Of course, not you,” says the Lord, a nasty curve to the corners of his ruddy lips. “Only Bangols loyal to the rightful heir, Luggie, and loyal to me, may return.”

  “Loyal to you?” Zeno says. “Why would any Bangol be loyal to an Olearon?”

  “Life will be different upon our return to Jarr-Wya. I will oversee all races, ensuring peace by the power of the Star.”

  Callisto bristles. “The Star is for us to protect and aid, not to manipulate to our will.”

  “If that is your belief,” begins the Lord slyly, “perhaps the Steffanus sisters must remain here as well.”

  “You have no power over us, in this world or any world,” roars Callisto. Her eyes take on more red than blue, and her wings part with a thwack.

  “He’s not who he seems. The Maiden told me, and I believe her. He is the 29th Lord of Olearon,” announces Archie
.

  Chapter 41

  Archie

  He’s the 30th Lord, Dad,” Ardenal corrects.

  Archie shakes his head. “No, Arden. The 29th.”

  Tessa pleads, “Archie, be careful!”

  “It is true.” A soft, kind voice creeps out of the Lord’s mouth, but it is not the Lord’s. “It is me, the Maiden of Olearon, partner to the 30th Lord. When I died, I joined my love inside this shell but soon discovered, as I had feared, that we were not alone. Argh! No!” The Maiden in the Lord’s body clutches her throat. “My end … has come … Archie, you must … stop him!”

  Archie knows these words spoken by the Maiden are her last. As the body of the 30th Lord straightens itself, smoothing its royal robes, the wicked sneer returns to his mouth.

  “My Maiden rudely spoke out of turn,” says the Lord in a mocking way. “But she will not be doing that again.

  “Luggie join me—remember our agreement,” growls the Lord. “All Bangols loyal to King Luggie, to me, step forward and join us. The rest—Olearon warriors, ready!—shall be scorched into the black rock of this earth.”

  Luggie steps to align himself beside the Lord. “Ella, I am sorry. I promised to obey the Lord if he did not hurt you and your family. I didn’t know it would resort to this.”

  The Lord laughs, but the sound sets the hair on Archie’s arms and neck on end. “It does not matter what you think, Luggie, only that your actions have proven you faithful. You have spared the Wellsley’s. Now let us continue with those not so fortunate—”

  “Olearons, don’t move!” The command sounds weak from Archie’s lips, and he clears his throat. “This isn’t the Lord you promised to serve. Before you stands the 29th Lord of Olearon, Telmakus, who went mad with rage and killed his brother, Dillmus, and was corrupted by the evil desire for blood over peace. He grew so powerful and power-hungry that he burst into a thousand pieces, which were stored in a magic compartment beneath the glass throne, where I found the secret history of the Olearons.”