The Coin of Kenvard

by Joseph R. Lallo

  “As many tend to be, but among wizards it is frequently a matter of debate as to whether Entwell was created specifically for isolation. In looking into this, I have become quite convinced that it is straining the bounds of the imagination to suggest that it is not a place crafted precisely for the purpose of giving people a sheltered harbor from the rest of the world. The cave, we have established, is complex and floods regularly. Even the mechanism of the flood is downright baffling. Then there is the fact that the mountain has a confounding effect of mystic focus. Then there is the matter of going over the mountain. To date, only the Great Elemental has succeeded. I believe you called her Ether? Lovely name. Perfectly suited. But the same horrid convolution of mystic focus combined with biting cold and astounding winds make passing over the mountain nearly impossible. The oceanside cliff has the same problem and leads to a sea that could chew the best of boats to splinters. Thus, there is no benefit in speed or safety in facing the mountain or cliff. The cave remains the best option. And that is when it dawned upon me. The cave, while flooded, is not impassable. A would-be traveler simply needs to satisfy certain vanishingly rare criteria.

  “The first, they must be capable of spending days completely submerged in water, and that ability must be either nonmystic in nature, the result of an intrinsic mystic quality, or the result of a spell simple enough to escape the effects of the cave. Second, they must be able to exist outside of water for days at a time, for similar physical or nonmystical reasons. Third, they must be able to survive the cave’s hazards. And fourth, they must be able to navigate the cave. There is no single person here who satisfies all these requirements. But it is possible for us to assemble a team who could.”

  She put her palm to her chest. “As you might imagine, I am speaking principally of myself. I can swim the flooded cave. I arrived here in that very manner. And though it will require repeated applications and a fair amount of effort, I know from experience that the air-for-water spell will slip past the cave’s influence. Lamentably, I will not be able to conjure legs for myself. Again, experimentation has proved that a shapeshift spell will unravel in moments in the cave. A shape change might work, so long as it is applied outside the cave, but doing so would strip me of the intrinsic connection to air-for-water that would allow me to survive both the flooded and dry portions of the cave. This means I will be left with my arms and tail when the time comes to make the trek through at least the last third of the cave. It won’t be pleasant, but I am confident I could survive a few days of such travel. But this is where I fall short. The cave is still a terrible maze, and I don’t know the way. I could find my way, perhaps, but I doubt I could do so reliably as a mermaid dragging herself along stone.”

  “You came here from the sea, did you not? Couldn’t you return the way you came?”

  “I could. It would be difficult, but not impossible. But it would leave me in the Crescent Sea. I would then have to travel far enough north or south to escape the mountain’s influence, then climb an entire mountain. It would take ages, even with my skills, and time is of the essence.”

  Desmeres sighed. “I suppose, if you could cast the same spell you’ve cast to bring me here, I could lead you back and help you traverse the dry portion of the cave.”

  “But I can’t. Water-for-air is a far more complex spell to cast on a non-mer creature. The cave would unravel it. But there is another group of residents here who can make the trip with my help.”

  “Who?”

  “Fairies. A fairy alone couldn’t cross the flooded portion of the cave. Not even a water fairy. But once clear, they could absolutely navigate the remainder. Most of them found their way here precisely because of their ability to flawlessly and efficiently navigate anyplace with an unbroken connection to the outside world, thanks to their intrinsic mystic connection to wind. And that same connection allows them to survive for ages without the need for fresh air. So if I could carry one in some sort of airtight container until we reached the dry portion of the cave, they could help me and direct me to the exit. Once clear, I would be able to conjure a set of legs and carry any message or equipment to Myranda or the other Chosen. It can work, Desmeres. I am certain of it.”

  “You would be willing to risk your life, dragging yourself through a cave like that?”

  Calypso flashed a smile. “I relish the challenge! Even if it wasn’t to help a friend and potentially save the world, I think it is long past time Entwell had an ambassador to the outside, and a chance to see your world is not one to be missed. I’m embarrassed I didn’t take it upon myself to attempt it ages ago.”

  “But what about the fairy you need to help you? I wasn’t aware they could forgo fresh air for so long, but I seem to recall they are not fond of being cooped up in small spaces.”

  “Heavens, no. It is torturous for them. It would take a very, very dedicated and brave fairy to willingly subject themselves to such a thing. I have precisely the one in mind. And we won’t even have to ask her.”

  #

  Later that afternoon, Calypso stood in the shade of a large tree not far from the elder’s hut. Desmeres leaned against the tree with his arms crossed. Buzzing filled the air. One by one, the many fairies of Entwell flitted into the shade of the tree. Most wore yellow robes, signs of their place among the discipline of wind magic. A few blue- and red-robed fairies appeared as well. There were even a handful of fairies in simple petal-like dresses, those who had forgone training or had yet to choose a focus. All told there were fifteen fairies, nearly the entirety of Entwell’s fairy population. One rather notable figure was absent.

  Calypso thanked them for answering her call. She laid out the plan she’d discussed with Desmeres with her usual speed and enthusiasm. Fascination and excitement rippled through the group of fairies as she explained why they needed to leave the place. That excitement died away at the very moment she held up the accommodations for the flooded portion of their voyage.

  “I know it is a great deal to ask of you, but if you are to survive the cave, you will have to be sealed inside this jar for at least a day. Possibly three or four.”

  The canister she held had been whipped up by Solomon. It was just a bit more spacious than the sort of jar that would hold preserves during the long northern winters. The sides were crystal clear, and the top was stopped with a dense black bit of cork. The fairies peeled away, one by one. The thought of being contained in such a way, sealed away from their precious wind in such a tiny space, was more than they could bear. Only three of the fairies remained when all was said and done. Two of the wind fairies and one of the fire fairies. They whistled and trilled their way through a discussion about who, if any, might be able to endure such a trial.

  They’d yet to reach a conclusion when the wind around them began to whistle with a gale force. Calypso shot Desmeres a knowing grin. He shook his head.

  “Unbelievable…” he muttered.

  “Calypso, this is nothing short of an outrage,” Ayna screeched, darting into the shadow of the tree. “This is precisely the sort of underhanded, condescending act that you would stoop to.”

  “Ayna, please. Calm down.”

  “Do not tell me to calm down. I will take this to the elder herself. You propose an unprecedented act, something that will forever etch the names of those who would achieve it into our history books, and you do not contact me? You propose a trial that requires a fairy, a fairy who by any measure is the key to the trial’s success—and you do not immediately bring it to me for assessment?” The fairy pointed at the now departing fairies in yellow robes. “You insult me by seeking out my own underlings? Those fairies haven’t even reached mastery. They haven’t even earned the right to study under me, but you would allow them the honor of this mission rather than me?”

  “You are the highest master of wind magic. You are an indispensable part of Wizard’s Side,” Calypso said.

  “Hah! You attempt to soothe me with your praise. While this is, of course, p
lainly true, if you believed it, you would disqualify yourself as well.”

  “I am our only mermaid. I have no choice but to volunteer. But there are many fairies. You can, and should, remain.”

  “Enough! I forbid any but myself to have this honor. Entwell’s first ambassador to the greater world? The first to traverse the Cave of the Beast in its entirety while flooded? Not to the comparatively effortless seaward opening of the cave, but to the Melorn Woods entrance? It is crime enough that I would have to share that right with you. I will not be passed over.”

  “Very well, Ayna. If you insist. I will understand if you need time to prepare.”

  “I can be ready within the hour. I need only a quantity of nectar or a few drops of honey. I shall collect it directly and select a master to take my place in my absence.” She darted forward and poked a finger in Calypso’s face. “I do not want to waste my time waiting for you, so I suggest you gather your things as well.”

  She darted off again. Desmeres stepped forward and leaned close to Calypso, so as to avoid being heard.

  “In a lifetime of manipulating people to achieve my goals, I have never seen a creature so easily bent to one’s whims,” he said.

  “We all have our weaknesses. And I’ll tell you something. I truly believe if we’d had more time, she might have volunteered herself for the mission even without the appeal to her contrariness. I’ve butted heads with her endlessly over the years. She can be all the things people accuse her of, but beneath it all, she has as fine a heart as any in this place. She just takes pains to protect it.” She clapped her hands. “But if you will excuse me, there is much to do. I’ll need to inform my temporary replacement, I’ll need to gather some supplies. There are still the Deacon pads to be created, and…”

  “And there is this,” Desmeres said. He tugged the sheathed blade from his belt and handed it to her.

  “What is this?”

  “One of the points of discussion that you were not privy to involved the precise assessment of how best to cure Deacon. Perhaps of the affliction he came here to be rid of, perhaps of Epidime’s influence. This blade is it.”

  Calypso slipped it from the sheath. She gently touched the blade and shut her eyes. “It is heavily enchanted… I’m… I’m not familiar with one of the enchantments. It feels… necromantic in nature. You aren’t suggesting Deacon be killed, are you?”

  “I am not suggesting anything, but Azriel seemed satisfied that this weapon was a solution, and so I present it to you.”

  The mermaid resheathed it and clutched it tightly. “Then I shall deliver it. But let us all hope it never tastes blood.”

  #

  They’d prepared themselves as quickly as they could. Now Calypso lingered at the base of the falls, basking in the cool mist as she prepared for the journey ahead. Ayna had yet to appear. A lesser fairy might be having second thoughts, but Calypso knew Ayna would never dare do something that would even imply weakness. She would turn up. It was just a matter of when.

  Because the falls had begun, no one was on lookout at them. Calypso was alone with her tail drifting in the basin of the falls as she checked herself over.

  The ways of mermaids were largely a mystery to the people on dry land. Thus, the gear she wore came as a surprise to the handful of students to whom she’d said goodbye.

  This was hardly the first time a mermaid had been called upon to brave dry land and a cave without the benefit of magic. There were outfits designed specifically for such challenges. It had taken a visit to some of the other mystics, but she’d been able to assemble the proper ensemble in little time at all. In place of her artful red and blue bodice, she wore a sturdy leather chestplate. Her glorious emerald tail was hidden by an apron of sorts, belted in place along its front. That would protect her tail and torso when the time came to drag them across the stone. Stout leather mitts with metal barbs at the fingertips would give traction and protection when she was beyond the edge of the water. A strong but light stick with a curved end would help her steady and haul herself upright if she needed to, and plenty of rope would give her the means to cross gaps a creature who was nimbler on land could easily vault over. It wasn’t the most elegant of garb, but simply wearing it gave Calypso the feeling of adventure and accomplishment. It had been so long since she’d left her comfort zone, she relished the opportunity to test her limits.

  She pulled some cords tight on her pack. Mermaids mostly had to concern themselves with keeping things wet when they left the water, but the sealskin sack she’d bundled should do equally well at keeping the goods she was meant to deliver dry. She had everything she needed. She was ready.

  “Right on time,” Calypso said as a buzzing wove into the hiss of falling water.

  Ayna arrived. If Calypso had been given a week to dream up how her fellow master would have chosen to equip herself for the journey, she wasn’t certain she would have come close to what Ayna had chosen to bring. For as long as Calypso had known her, Ayna had dressed in one of two ways. When she was particularly dedicated to making an impression, she would wear her yellow master’s robes. All other times she was almost lost inside a fancy blue and white dress that looked to have been made from flower petals. Now, Ayna was dressed in something quite different.

  A tiny jacket, too expertly tailored to her size to be anything but the handiwork of someone similarly tiny, had been laced shut with tiny threads. She wore leggings made from a sort of thin but tough material, and even had little booties on her typically bare feet. She almost had the look of a rogue in her snug clothing that balanced maneuverability with stealth and protection. She carried a pack about the size of Calypso’s thumb.

  “Where did you get an outfit like that?” Calypso said.

  “That is neither your business nor your concern. Are we prepared?”

  “I believe so. Are you not bringing your focus gem?” the mermaid asked.

  Ayna glanced to the glass jar beside her. “My travel accommodations will be cramped as it is. I am confident any mystic feats will be well within my power without it. If a gem is necessary, I shall make use of yours.”

  “Are you sure? I can carry it for you.”

  “That will not be necessary. Now”—she glanced to the jar again—“is there a plan?”

  “Not much of one. The first bit will be tricky. As I recall, the entrance of the tunnel might have a few air pockets before we reach a solidly flooded section—particularly so soon after the falls begin. But when we are into the submerged sections, things will be smooth until we reach the dry section.”

  “And how long will we be submerged?”

  “One or two days.”

  Ayna shut her eyes. “So be it.”

  She buzzed to the jar and dropped her bag through the mouth. After a steadying breath, she dropped down inside. Her little boots clinked against the glass. The enclosed space made the soft flutter of her wings take on an odd humming tone.

  “Be swift,” Ayna said, doing her best to not sound as though she were pleading.

  Calypso slipped the stopper in place and eased it tight. Ayna huddled down as the jar was sealed. Face stricken, she braced her feet against the side of the glass to keep herself steady and hugged herself.

  “Be swift,” she murmured again.

  Calypso slipped the jar securely into a netted harness and tied it to her wrist.

  “Here we go. Hold tight!”

  The mermaid exhaled and leaped into the churning water. Once immersed in the bracing, frigid pool, she took a deep, refreshing breath. From the first instant of being immersed, Calypso was reminded of just how invigorating a properly lively body of water was. She let the thundering current curl around her, working her powerful tail to tame it. She dove deep, pushed with her free hand off the glassy bottom of the waterfall basin, and surged up along the sloped tunnel.

  Darkness descended quickly. She touched her fingers to the gem about her neck and sent a twist of magic through it to pr
ovide some light. With each rhythmic beat of her tail, the influence of the mountain grew stronger and the light grew fainter. By the time Calypso was near enough to hear the slap and ripple of water in the first air pocket, the gem was already barely as bright as a candle. No matter. Her eyes were sensitive enough to make do with that for now.

  She gazed at the polished stone of the oft-flooded tunnel. It curled upon itself, dipping down. She remembered that section of the tunnel from her arrival many years ago. It was the only part of the journey that she remembered clearly. Assuming it hadn’t changed, it would be simple enough to traverse. A smile brightened her face.

  In fact, it would be fun.

  “This is going to be a little rough, but it’ll be over soon,” Calypso said.

  Ayna’s reply was a barely audible murmur of acknowledgment. Calypso redoubled her efforts. She pumped the sealskin-wrapped tail for all it was worth. When the moment was right, she tucked the jar by her side, streamlined her body, and launched from the water.

  Slick with the water as she was, her speed sent her gliding across the stone that had been scoured smooth by so many years of constant flow. She zipped along the glassy tunnel, side-to-side slaps of her tail keeping her speed up, and well-timed swipes of her clawed glove helping her maneuver. She crested the slope of the curved stone and began the rapid slide down the other side. Digging her claws in, she pivoted to take the slide tail-first, peering over her shoulder to navigate in the dim light. The journey to where the water again claimed the tunnel was a brief one. She plunked down into it, turned about, and continued her swim.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, holding up the jar.

  Ayna’s hands had joined her boots in bracing against the glass. Her glow was bright, brighter than Calypso’s own gem, and her expression was stricken.

  “Easy, Ayna. Easy. It will be fine. I promise you.”

  “Just swim. Just swim,” the fairy said.

  Even muffled by a layer of glass and some rushing water, the fairy’s voice had the near-shriek of unbridled anxiety. Calypso had known it would be a difficult trip for her, but it wasn’t clear until this moment just how difficult it would be.