by C B Samet
The room was tidy with baby blue shimmering drapes and bed cover. Closing the doors behind me, I turned and walked toward the bath. I walked past the bed and ran my hand along the silky cover. Pausing, I thought of the sensual sensation of Joshua’s hands and amazing caress of his lips. In a few weeks’ time I had fallen completely in love with him and then thought I’d lost him twice—twice I was wrong.
Once in the bathroom, I took a quick shower and slipped into clean leggings and a tunic. I brushed my teeth and hair and pulled on my boots.
There was a loud rapping on the door. “Queen in company!” a man bellowed.
“Mother Moon,” I sighed, inaudible to those opposite the door. I hadn’t been back more than ten minutes and I was already being bombarded.
“Enter,” I barked.
The doors swung open and the Queen stood expectantly. She wore a pink, billowing gown with gold embroidery.
I bowed slightly, wearily.
“You arrived at the island?” she asked, only partially concealing her impatience.
I wondered if she was more worried about our survival or the completed mission. Either way, she was probably in a state of suspense ever since I dropped off the drenched captain. Kale would have told her we were shipwrecked.
I nodded.
“Joshua is well?”
“Yes, mum,” I replied.
After a brief look of relief penetrated her mask, she straightened. I waited for her to ask me how I was, but that conversation didn’t come.
“Let us proceed to the vault.”
To the vault! she declares!
No pleasantries, no genuine concern for me, and most importantly no offer of food or drink.
I pursed my lips and followed her henceforth. We wound through the castle and then down a stone spiral staircase to the basement level. Damp and cool air chilled my wet head. Bioluminescent torches lighted the way. The guards had thinned down to just two, leading the way through a maze of passages. The sound of our footsteps reverberated along the stone.
At the end of a hallway the guards stopped and each took post aside a large stone door. Ornate decorations of dozens of leaf designs in clusters of three were carved into the door. The Queen stepped forward and pulled an iron three-pronged key from somewhere in the folds of her dress.
So those fluffy dresses do have a purpose after all.
She pressed it into one of the leaf clusters and turned the key. Grinding gears echoed through the hall as the door slowly opened. There was a spark and then fire erupted along the walls, illuminating the room. I smelled the scent of kerosene—it must have been the fuel for the fire.
The room was expansive and filled with various treasures. Vases, paintings, jewels, and chests containing probably more of the same spread from wall to wall. I took in the wealth of it all.
Was it trust or foolishness that she would let me stand in the vault? She was many things, but not foolish. Surely, it had occurred to her that once in here I could come and go undetected at any time. I was not a thief, but such easy access could corrupt a righteous person. On the other hand, if something did turn up missing, perhaps by one of the staff, I would be the first suspect.
I lingered outside the doorway, not crossing the threshold, as I mulled this over in my mind.
The Queen walked over to a decorative iron stand atop of which rested the scepter, the amber Che stone calmly dormant. I cringed to remember the pain of electrocution that had coursed through me.
I realized that the Queen was looking at me expectantly. I looked around at the threshold to the door once again and ran the toe of my boot along the exterior threshold.
“It is ready to be returned,” she insisted.
Swallowing, I replied, “If it is all the same to you, my Queen, I’ll remain outside of the vault.”
She picked up the scepter and perceptibly looked around the room. “You are quite infallible, Abigail.” Walking out, she handed me the scepter.
I kept silent, deciding to let her think mine was a virtuous decision rather than the avoidance of any future speculation of guilt.
The guard closed the door behind her.
Spinning the scepter in my hands, I noted that it was not as heavy as I remembered it. Although the last time I had grasped it, I had ridden a horse into battle, fought my way to Malos, had my arm filleted open, and was struck with the combined lightning of six Chevorik Ambrias, so a feather might have seemed weighty at that time given my state of fatigue.
I lifted my eyes to the Queen. “I need to return with more than just the scepter.”
She arched an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Andonius saved us,” I explained. “The serpent that lives in the sulfurous waters around Mulan. I promised to repay him.”
She stood impassive. “You promised you would repay him? Or you promised I would repay him?”
I returned her gaze without flinching. “I promised he would receive a token of gratitude of his choosing.”
“Of his choosing,” she echoed cautiously. “What did he choose?”
I hesitated, probably longer than was necessary, enjoying her angst a bit too much.
“Coconut milk,” I said as somberly as I could.
“Coconut milk,” she said, relieved, as though she thought I might say “twelve virgins.”
We began the walk back through the passageways. “How much coconut milk?”
“All of it,” I stated emphatically. Though I wasn’t sure how much that would be, it seemed reasonable to try to get as much for Andi as possible. He was, after all, quite a sizable serpent.
As I waited for the cargo to be prepared, I packed a few items, such as food and clothing for Joshua and me. My mind dwelled on my parents, now that I had seen their island of doom. I thought if I saw it and said good-bye then I could make peace with their death. Unfortunately, now there were more unanswered questions.
I walked with my pack to the courtyard where twelve barrels of coconut milk were being secured together. The Queen was overseeing the production. I walked to her and bowed slightly.
“I think Stic died in the shipwreck,” I said.
She nodded.
“Someone will need to tell his mother.”
She nodded again.
I was quiet for a moment before asking, “Do you remember telling me about how my parents died?” I turned so that I was standing next to her, watching the barrels being roped. I was careful to avoid touching her pink gown.
“Of course,” she replied.
“You said they succeeded, but it cost them their life.”
She nodded.
“So did they shipwreck delivering the scepter? And if so, they couldn’t have died before replacing the scepter. So they either died on the island or they didn’t shipwreck until after they disembarked and returned the scepter.”
She thought carefully before she spoke again. “I sent a ship out when they had not returned in two months’ time. The ship found the scepter in its rightful resting place and found wreckage from your parents’ ship on the beach.”
Swallowing, I asked, “And their bodies?”
“Not found.”
So they delivered the scepter and then vanished? “They searched the island?” I asked.
She turned to me and placed her hands on my shoulders. “Abigail,” she urged calmly, “please do not dwell on this. The island was searched, and your parents were not found. There are many possibilities ... another storm could have taken them, animals could have gotten them, or,” she hesitated, “they could have chosen the volcano over starvation.”
I looked into her eyes, searching for some sign of insincerity.
“We will never know what happened to them, but we can know that they have peace.”
I walked away from her intense stare and lay a hand on the bound barrels of coconut milk.
We may not know what happened to them, I thought, but there was someone who might.
I closed my eyes and transported back to Mulan. The gras
s and dirt beneath my shoes changed to the fine black gravel of Mulan, but the transition was slow and I had to struggle more than ever. Twelve barrels of coconut milk was more mass than I had ever attempted, but I wasn’t going to let the Queen and castle staff see my toil. I concentrated harder.
Opening my eyes, I saw Joshua and Andi were there waiting for me. Joshua had been lying on the ground, but sat up when I arrived. My vision blurred momentarily with the strain of the transport.
“Oh, a clean shower!” Joshua commented. “How nice, for you.”
I tossed him his bag with his change of clothes with more force than necessary in lieu of a verbal response to his quibble.
He smiled and winked at me.
I turned to Andi who was staring open-mouthed at the twelve barrels of coconut milk. A pink tongue rolled lazily out to one side. He paid no attention to the scepter in my hand.
“As promised,” I said.
He approached cautiously and sniffed at the barrels. His large eyes sparkled with delight.
Joshua changed his shirt and began to devour the food I had brought him.
“All of them?” Andi asked.
“All are yours,” I confirmed.
It took some time to cut the barrels from each other, roll them to the beach cave and stack them horizontally so Andonius would be able to drink straight from the tap.
By the time we were done with his beverage arrangements, we decided to take a break and all partake of the coconut milk. We sat on the beach, Joshua and I on a piece of driftwood with cups in hand and Andi with half of his body in the cave drinking and his back end hanging outside of the cave. His serpentine tail wagged happily every few moments.
Joshua nodded toward Andi. “It’s going to be difficult for him to move the tap to the next barrel when that one is empty.”
At the rate he was drinking it, it would be empty by the end of the day. But Joshua was right; Andi couldn’t move the tap. With his might and a crack of his tail, he could probably break one open, but it would spill half its contents onto the sand and ocean.
“We could come back here.” I shrugged, sipping the sticky, sweet milk. “Open a new one for him every few weeks.”
Andi spun around and looked at us with surprise. “You would do that?” he marveled.
“You have amazing hearing,” I remarked, “and yes, I would be happy to come back.” It must be very lonely being a one-of-a-kind creature confined to the underbelly of the most desolate, undesirable island on the planet.
“I must ask you something, though,” I added. I hesitated, almost afraid to ask. He might know nothing; in which case, I had hoped in vain. Then again, if he did know about my parents, it could be some- thing horrific and haunting that I didn’t want to know. “My parents were marooned here. It would have been about ten years ago.”
The corners of his mouth dropped and his large eyes saddened.
“I know they made it to the island—at least one of them did, because they returned the scepter,” I added.
He began sadly, “Then I know why you chose to risk your life to return it ten years later.” He shook his head slowly. “You search for your parents.” He paused. “So many have shipwrecked over the years, so much suffering. So few survive.”
“I search for closure,” I said, wanting him to understand that I didn’t expect to find them alive ten years after a shipwreck.
His eyes grew distant as though searching memories. At last he said, “If they survived and made it to the shore and if we met, they may have signed the wall.”
“Signed the wall?” Joshua asked.
Andi nodded. “The cave wall.”
Joshua and I both looked toward the cave and simultaneously stood up.
Andi turned and headed toward the ocean. “I will fetch some glow algae and we’ll have a look.” He waded into the water and then vanished beneath the foamy surface.
I turned to Joshua and felt my heart alight. My parents’ last handwriting could be on that wall! Even if it were only a scribble of some initials, it would be something tangible, something from them. Handing my empty cup to Joshua, I turned and dashed to the cave. As I came to a halt, the little pooling of dark water I had nearly fallen into earlier rippled as sand and rock flew off my boots.
I searched the dark walls, waiting for my eyes to adjust so I could see the writing. It was too dark. Pacing in and out of the cave, I waited impatiently for Andi to return. Perhaps I could get back to the castle and grab a torch, which might be faster.
“Abbey,” Joshua began in a soft, cautioning tone.
I shot him a glance that silenced him. I continued pacing. I would not have him telling me not to hold false hope.
Then I heard the heavy shuffle of Andi on the rocky shore, half walking, half gliding toward us. He walked into the cave. With his tail out to one side, he walked around the circumference of the cave, slathering the algae he had gathered on his tail around the base of the molten rock walls.
The cave came to life, bathed in a blue and purple bioluminescent glow. It was amazingly beautiful. All around, white script seemed to burn on the walls.
I sucked in a breath.
There were so many—hundreds, no, thousands. Tall, slender script; short, stocky script; bold, block letters; slanted, shaking script.
Andi shook his head slowly. “It might take a while to search the names. So many names,” he added in his slow, deliberate voice. “Most of those who survived would take the time to write the names of their fallen as well.”
I stared at the walls and the glowing writing from base to ceiling, stretching and angling up the cave. This was a tomb, I realized—a tomb full of names—one soul for every name. I was surrounded by a thousand glowing white souls. I felt the hair on my neck stand on end and swallowed back the rising lump in my throat.
Beginning on one side of the cave, I started to search for the name “Cross.” Joshua took the opposite wall.
Half an hour later, Joshua called my name. I spun around and was by his side in a few rushed steps. My eyes followed his index finger. With bated breath, I stared at the wall. I felt tears swelling, but tried to choke them back.
“Nadine Cross,” I finally said in a soft whisper. My fingers traced across her name.
Nadine Cross. There was a curious asterisk at the end of her name. Beneath her name was my father’s name, but written in her same cursive hand.
Adair Cross. I
stared, immobilized. A pang of disappointment made me realize I had been half hoping for some sort of farewell note. Why would she have suspected that I would ever come here? She had no reason to write me a loving message. It was foolish to have thought that was a possibility. I decided I could settle for their names. I could find peace standing in the cave of white souls, nearest where she breathed her last breath of life.
Andonius joined us, lifting his long head to look at the letters. “Oh,” he commented, surprise in his deep voice. “Your mother is starred.”
I blinked away tears and waited for an explanation. I was too afraid to ask what it meant.
“And?” Joshua prompted the serpent on my behalf.
“Oh. Yes. I ask everyone I take to the Misty Isle to star their names.” He lowered himself back down to the sandy floor. “Just in case someone comes for them. But they never do.”
“Misty Isle?” I demanded. “You take them away from Mulan to Misty Isle?”
“No one can survive here,” he explained. “Misty Isle is the only place I can travel before I weaken. I cannot wander far from the Serpent Volcano. Misty Isle is an island chain north of here—”
I knelt down and stared at him. “You are telling me my mother might be alive on an island north of here?”
He looked back and forth at Joshua and me. “Might be,” he said slowly, but optimistically. “It’s a small community. They hunt and fish and have freshwater streams. The conundrum is that all of the currents and winds sweep down this way. Anyone who has ever tried to leave just ends up maroon
ed back here again.”
“Andi!” I exclaimed. “My mother could be alive!”
“Yes, yes.” He nodded.
I turned to Joshua, stupefied. He took me into his arms and we hugged fiercely. Gently, he kissed my forehead.
“Thank you,” I said. I stretched up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for coming with me and enduring my fits.” I kissed him on the other cheek. “And marrying me.” I stepped back and held his hands in mine. “I know she may not have survived there, but I must go and find out for sure.
I turned to look at Andi. “Can you take us there? Won’t you, Andi? Please. Then I can take the three of us back to Marrington.”
I turned back to Joshua. “I can rescue her!”
Joshua squeezed my hands and nodded. “We can rescue her.”
13
I wondered if she was still alive and what it would have been like to be trapped on an island for ten years. Ten years of purgatory. Whatever she might have become, if she survived, it would not be the same woman I had known as my mother. I needed to be prepared for that. Then again, I was no longer her twelve-year-old daughter. If she was alive—if—we would have the rest of our lives to be reunited.
Nadine Cross. I stared at the writing on the wall. But my father had not survived.
While I had been lost in thought, Joshua and Andi were discussing the travel time to Misty Isle.
Joshua turned to me. “We can’t make it there by nightfall. Let’s return the scepter, get a good night’s rest, and meet Andi back here in the morning.”
I nodded, trying to conceal my disappointment. It was the logical plan—the right plan.
Andi agreed and led us up the shore toward the volcano. We wound around the base until Andi stopped. He helped us discern a path up the smooth black rock.
“It leads to the volcano cave,” he explained. “There is only one way to its resting place. Then you can come out the way you entered.”
“Any surprises?” Joshua asked.
Andi shook his head. “Not for a thousand years—give or take.”
Joshua nodded. “So we’ll see you after sunrise?”
Andi was already gliding away. “I’ll be the big purple and green serpent on the beach,” he called back jocularly.
