by K Fisher
Once they were settled for the night and their pets were bandaged and taken care of, Zakir made quick work of sending Anita word of what had happened at the shore. His words held some variance of truth but in the many years they had been hired killers for those willing to pay for their services, not a single soul had escaped their grasps. When he saw the injuries and depths his prey had fallen, there was no question in the brothers’ minds they had done their job.
The dragon and two warlocks have been dealt with.
We await your promise.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Castle Herrick
There was a hard knock on Anita’s door that made her jump up from her position at the edge of her bed. She had been deep in thought, thinking of the pawn she had sent to finish off Dora that night. Her gaze snapped to the door and she almost raced to answer it, certain it was Phillip on the other side ready to report.
She would act the part of a grieving family member beside Phillip as he told the others of the intruder that had killed their young Queen. Her tears would turn into words of strength as she took the throne rightfully with the essence of Mallor at her side, his energy and words always with her. Together they would finish his quest. She would force the remaining warlocks of Desin to create a Control Stone for each race. In Mallor’s name, Anita would be Queen of all creatures.
Her heart was racing wildly, a bright smile on her face as she threw open the door to her bedroom. When she saw who was on the other side, her smile faded quickly and her heart stopped.
Queen Dora strolled into Anita’s room, passing the woman at the door with a wide smile. She wore a long, black dress that matched the hue of her dark hair, which was pinned back away from her face. It was so unlike the Dora she had observed the previous week and although the dark rings still remained beneath her eyes, there was an energy there that had not been before.
There was a cloak around her shoulders, shielding her from the chill of the castle and Anita’s room. It flared out around her, dragging lightly against the floor as it hid her hands from sight. Dora made her way over to the large window aside Anita’s bed, looking out to the courtyard below before turning around to look at Anita once more. There was no anger on her face, nothing to make Anita suspicious.
“My my! How late you’ve come to my room… Is there anything I can assist you with? Perhaps you have taken me up on my offer to speak of what has been troubling you?” Anita started, nervously looking out into the empty hallway before slowly closing the door to her bedroom.
No guards had followed Dora, but she had been known to run rampant once in a while. Anita only prayed the young woman had been too exhausted and come to her room to speak… That Phillip was still primed at the ready when the Queen returned to her bed.
“You are absolutely right. I am here to discuss what has been troubling me,” Dora said absentmindedly, fingers pinching the edges of Anita’s sheets before she released them, walking around the bed to a small wooden table and chair. “I don’t have a window in my room, you know. I’m jealous of your view.”
“It’s only to keep you safe. The only entrance into your quarters is protected by your most trusted guards,” Anita insisted, wringing her hands together before her chest.
“Of course.” Dora took a deep breath and flashed Anita another smile - this one dry and forced. “I have been plagued by dreams and Mallor’s presence, that is what has been keeping me awake all these nights. It’s silly, really. He was such a pathetic excuse for a worm. Useless and evil on the throne… Did I ever tell you about the look on his face when he was thrown into the fire and killed?” her voice was soft, drifting through the distance between them, each word a dagger into Anita’s chest.
Anita made a soft, pained noise before regaining her composure and shaking her head. “I don’t wish to speak of the past. It seems these are only dreams of the former King, nightmares stirred on by the trauma you endured.” There was a fire in the pit of her stomach that burned upward into her throat like bile.
Hatred, it was pure hatred. Anita wanted to strike the words right from Dora’s mouth and ensure the little wench never spoke another ill word in regards to Mallor.
“It’s something I will remember forever.” Dora’s eyes were calculating, looking to Anita to note the effect the words took.
Anita’s hand was shaking at her side, curled into a fist. The other rested at her hip as she tried to keep herself under control. “Such cruel words, my Queen,” she forced out.
“You know, dearest auntie. There’s no window in my room, so I wonder how you were going to explain the intruder away. Or were you planning on throwing Phillip under the bus this entire time? Mallor may have been pathetic, but even he wouldn’t have tried something so stupid.” The words were said with a soft chuckle, Elladora’s golden eyes twinkling.
Anita exploded from where she stood, running over to her dresser as she grabbed for her rusting knife. She knew it would protect her to some degree and knew she would have to kill the Queen before the young woman ended her. Turning to face Dora, the knife was waved before her body madly, running at the Queen wildly. Her rage had completely taken over, her aunt hellbent on burying the knife as deep as it would go, her only fighting chance.
Never once did the smile on Dora’s face dissipate, especially when she dodged the stab sent in her direction. It only appeared to fuel her, dropping to the ground as her aunt swiped the knife through the area where her torso had been only a moment before. She rolled to the side, jumping to her feet as she faced the maddened, angry woman once more.
Anita’s long brown hair was frizzy and wild around her face, a wildness that matched her wide, frantic eyes.
“You call that a weapon?” Dora purred, hand escaping into her cloak as she unsheathed the sword at her side.
Anita screamed, the sound enraged and guttural as she held the knife firmly and raced toward Dora once again, not caring what weapon the Queen harnessed. There was no intelligence in the woman’s gaze, only a need to kill and tear Dora apart by any means necessary.
Dora gripped onto the twisted silver of the handle, taking a step forward as she aimed for the knife brandished in her aunt’s hand. There was a loud clang as both weapons smashed against each other, the knife going flying across the room. Anita was yelling in rage, holding the hand that had been gripping the knife close to her chest. Her face was twisted in pain as she rammed forward, using her body as a weapon against the close proximity to the Queen. Her shoulder hit against Dora’s, swinging the young woman to the side as Anita’s good hand grabbed for the hilt of the sword and made contact.
The two were struggling over the hilt, yanking the sword back and forth as they fought to be the one in control. But the struggle did not last long at all, Dora whipping her head forward when Anita was right in front of her face. Blood spurted from Anita’s nose as Elladora’s face hit her hard, the stunned elf releasing the sword and taking two staggering steps back as she moaned in pain, cradling her wounds.
Suddenly, the sword hummed in Dora’s hand, the hilt glowing a bright golden hue as the magic crawled up the blade. She didn’t have time to think about what was happening, certain Anita would waste no time before she tried to attack again - not that she stood a chance.
Looking to Anita, her eyes widened. The woman was moving in slow motion, a shimmering gold of power surrounding her as she took one crawling step in front of the other, trying to get to Elladora.
Time was slowing down right before her very eyes.
With a slow smirk, the Queen walked around Anita quickly, the surprise on her aunt’s face registering at a sluggish rate, any attempt at escape far too late. Raising the sword, Dora brought down the hilt, knocking it across the back of her aunt’s head.
Anita fell to a crumpled heap on the ground, the golden mist of magic around her disappearing when the sword made contact with her body. Looking at the weapon in her hands, Dora could not help but be excited and impressed with the sudden turn of events. Al
though she was certain she would have won, the only reason she insisted Atair stay out of the affair, it was nice to find the certain perks in her sword to be desirable.
“Aeon,” she named the sword, holding it in both her hands as she watched the golden magic trail back into the hilt and out of sight.
“That’s a really silly name. I don’t approve of it,” Atair murmured at the door, leaning against the wooden frame as he observed the scene before him.
“Don’t be mad because I didn’t let you in on the fun,” she shot back, pointing at the crumpled body of her aunt upon the ground. “Now take her down to the dungeons, I have big plans for these two traitors.”
“Could have just killed her, you know,” Atair said, but he was beaming and proud of the outcome as he approached Anita and roughly yanked her from the ground by one arm, swinging her body over one broad shoulder.
She opened her mouth to respond, stopping when her eyes looked to the window. A dark raven soared through the opening, wings beating at the air wildly as it held something large in its talons. There was an unnatural speed in which the creature moved, darting around the room like a hummingbird before the item was dropped upon Anita’s bed and it soared out the open window just as fast as it had come.
Dora slowly approached the bed, reaching out to grab the parchment and unwrap the leather string that held it tightly rolled. She slowly read the words, allowing the message to register before her fist tightened, crumpling the parchment in her hands. Dropping it to the ground, she turned to look at Atair, her face registering fear and grief, two emotions he had never seen before. Dora’s knees buckled and Atair dropped Anita to the ground in a heap, racing over to her in a panic as the Queen’s strangled voice spoke out.
“Dead… Dead… She killed them.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Alni and Bethinium tried their hardest to keep calm and collected as the giant ship hit the waves below and continued on towards the island. The waters were rough and although there was some worry Taber and Eve were harmed during their journey to the island in such weather, both knew they were facing people more powerful than that.
“How much longer?” Alni inquired softly, looking down to the waves as his stomach lurched, the seasickness something he had not been aware he possessed until he was on the boat for an entire day and night.
“We have to be close. They know these waters even better than I, Alni - don’t you fear,” Bethinium responded softly, an old hand extending as he pointed to a dark shape in the water.
Several additional dark shapes appeared next to the first, large beings leaping from the water aside the ship as they traveled onward. The merpeople were following them, eyes lifted to the side of the boat as they wordlessly splashed along and kept up with their speed. “There are a great many beings in Desin, Alni. These ones are some of the worst.”
“Bloodthirsty,” Alni murmured, shaking his head as another wave of nausea fell over him.
Behind them, the female pirate that had spoken to them earlier and vouched for them arrived with two cups in hand. Bethinium and Alni exchanged glances before Alni flashed her an apologetic smile, “I don’t think we should be drinking so close to the end of our quest.”
“It’s water, ye flutterin’ dwarf,” she shot out, shaking the cups in their direction before the two eagerly took them. “Don’t have too much fresh water left, at the end of our sail. It’ll be good timing to make port along the Elven lands with ye to fill up on supplies. And gold.” She nudged Bethinium’s shoulder before peering down over the side of the boat at the merpeople. “AH! Desin’s core they’re parasites.”
Suddenly, the ship started to slow, the merpeople disappearing as they outswam them and rushed onward. As shouts behind the three rang out and the anchor was dropped, Bethinium took a deep sigh and peered out over the fog and waves.
“Looks like we have finally arrived.”
~
“So this is how it’s gonna’ go. My most fearsome fighter Ravin will take the two warlocks to the island to do… Whatever it is they need to do there. We keep the dragon ‘ere for healing. When yer both done, we take ye’ to the castle and will be given our gold. Ravin will go with ye’ to the castle to ensure we get our bounty. Any funny business and we kill ye’ all. Understood?”
Alni took a deep and controlled breath, eyes darting over to Silthia. She had awakened briefly, mixed eyes a swirl of dangerous crimson and amethyst as she observed the three men working on her wounds. She was weak, but it was clear she was awaiting whether or not they would continue to fight. Seeing Alni watching her with concern, she lifted her large head and eyed the captain, speaking slowly.
“Do not worry about me. I will burn the entire ship down if they try anything.”
“It appears we be at a bit of a stalemate,” the captain said, extending a hand and embracing Bethinium’s shoulder. “Take yer boy. Ravin will row you over to the island, we aren’t far from it.”
“We accept,” Bethinium said before either of his comrades had a chance to say anything to further endanger the good luck they had found themselves in. “I suppose we must meet your most valued and fearsome fighter. We don’t have much time to waste in our quest.”
“Ye already did,” the raspy voice of the blonde pirate spoke out, giving Bethinium a wink before taking a long swig from the bottle in her hands. “The name’s Rav. I’ll be escorting ya handsome gentlemen over to the island and emptyin’ yer pockets upon return.” She jerked her head towards a rowboat several pirates were lowering alongside the ship.
“Git on. I promise by the hairs on the bend of Desin’s big toe I’ll deliver ye’.”
There was no room for compromise, Alni and Bethinium giving Silthia looks of hesitation as they followed the powering Rav to the rowboat. Neither were certain leaving her behind would be beneficial and both knew she had been instrumental to whatever end game they played. Not having her power and assistance during the most vital hours was not only a disadvantage, but a loss they both felt long after they left the ship.
As Rav rowed them through the calming waters and fog, she remained quiet aside from the occasional burp and swig from her bottle. Neither of them questioned whether it was wise to travel with someone who was clearly inebriated, knowing the alternative was just as dangerous. Both Bethinium and Alni were still, bodies primed for what was about to happen.
Through the fog, the darkness of land came into focus, a small black outline of another boat in sight. It was tied against the shore, the waves crashing it wildly from side to side as their wake made contact. Taking a deep breath, Bethinium held his walking stick close to the cold fabric of his wet tunic. They had left the soaking bags of their belongings back at the ship, certain that their items would be rummaged through, but there was nothing of obvious importance and the only real things they desired to keep were journals; Items the pirates would have no need for.
No one needed to say a word, both Bethinium and Alni knowing what the boat at the shore meant for their situation. Looking to Rav, Alni nodded his head and spoke softly. “We will be back when this is done. Unless you wish to come assist us?”
“I came ta’ make sure ye blubberin’ magicfingers get here safely. Not gonna put my life on the line when I don’t have ta. Besides, still have tha dragon if ye both die! See ye when yer done.” Rav nodded her head, pulling up alongside the other boat before scraping the wooden oars against the sand below them, stopping beside the rowboat.
With the words of confidence from their new captor, Alni and Bethinium jumped out of the rowboat, shoes filled once again by the saltwater as they splashed to shore. The moment they reached the rocks along the coast they were on their way to the outline of dark trees for cover. Shivering in the freezing wind, Alni and Bethinium tried their hardest to keep quiet and close to the trees, listening for any sign of Eve and Taber on the island.
It was a small island and it was clear Bethinium knew his way around it, despite the time that had passed since he had pre
viously been there. The trees were bare and gnarled, wind-blown and scattered around the island with just enough density to hide the two of them as they weaved through the night, but still spread apart enough to not be good cover for long.
The smell of burning wood reached Alni’s senses, his head whipping to the left as he gave Bethinium’s shoulder a small nudge and nodded in that direction. Although they could not see the flames, it was clear to him that someone was settling in. If they could just get their hands on Eve and get her away from Taber long enough for Bethinium to explain and speak to his son, it would prevent anything worse from happening. Would hopefully prevent Ravena from ever coming back and Eve from being used.
She was just a little lost girl, Alni had to remind himself of that. This was not a battle to kill enemies, but a battle to speak and give the two of them a chance to understand the horrors they hoped to be released and the repercussions of such things.
Finally, the warm light of the fire came into focus, the flames shedding light on the ground and rocks scattered around it. The two warlocks stopped behind a tree close to the flickering flames, peering into the clearing at the shadow that sat beside them.
“It’s him,” Bethinium whispered softly, his eyes intent on the shadow.
“What’s he doing?” Alni inquired, his voice low and soft as he readied himself.
“Just… Sitting. He’s sitting.” There was confusion in Bethinium’s voice as he tried to make sense of the calmness of the situation and the absence of another figure aside his son.
“You know I can see you,” the voice came from neither of the warlocks, but instead from the dark shape sitting by the light of the fire.
