A huge breath of relief whooshed out of my lungs as the whale sped away, presumably to find a less troublesome hunting ground.
A second later, Gladius appeared behind me on Fyrian’s back and placed the Lighting Rod in my arms. “Thank you.”
“Thanks for saving us from having to fight our way out of a whale’s stomach.” I twisted around and hooked the Lightning Rod onto the hilt of my sword belt.
He chuckled and hopped off Fyrian’s back. “I knew it would work. That blast of magic was extremely painful.”
Guilt clutched at my heart. Two days before, I had shot Gladius on the shoulder with the lightning rod. I swallowed hard. “Sorry about—”
“No need.” He held up a hand. “I should have spent more time listening and learning than judging others. Fosco has done a tremendous job with Mount Fornax, and I was foolish to think the dragons were being enslaved.”
Moments later, my stomach churned, and an unpleasant tingle formed in the roots of my teeth.
“Alba, what’s wrong?” asked Fyrian. “Did you eat some spoiled fish?”
I leaned back and rubbed my belly. “I don’t think it’s anything I ate.”
“It’s the fairy iron,” said Gladius. “I feel it, too.”
I stared down at the pale-haired dragon. “The Forgotten King made you out of fairies, didn’t he?”
“I don’t remember much about my earliest years, but he injected me with everything he could to give me the strength needed to kill his wife. He had many high fairies imprisoned and under irons, it would not surprise me if I contained the essence of several.”
“That might explain your shape-shifting abilities,” I said.
The bubble stopped at a huge rock that stretched up to the surface of the sea. This was likely the island. At its base was a hole so deep, it pulled the surrounding seawater into it like a vortex. I frowned. “Was this where the Forgotten King had been banished for a thousand years?”
“Why else would anyone dig a hole that big?” said Fyrian.
“If I were going to banish a fairy, it would be underneath a mine of fairy iron where his followers couldn’t reach him,” Gladius said out loud.
King Magnar leaned down and stared in the direction of the hole. “Have we lost?”
“Not yet,” I said. “They might not have pulled him out, or even if they had, they still might not know how to wake him.”
“M-master Roopal said calling out his name might be enough to summon him,” said Evolene.
I chewed my lip and thought of my little, golden-haired cousin, Chrysus. “Powerful fairies always hear their names being called.”
“But I thought he’d been forgotten?” said King Magnar.
“I know his name,” Gladius said through clenched teeth. “Mare-raeda, take us to the surface.”
“How could you possibly remember?” I asked.
Gladius scowled. “The fairies banished me deep into the earth before they had thought of wiping his name from history. Like the King Who Must Be Forgotten, I slept for a thousand years. My cocooning and transformation must have somehow broken the banishment.”
“Did you wake up as a man?” I asked.
“Everything was a haze.” He shook his head. All I remember was the feeling of being crushed by a world-full of earth. I tried using my ability to shift the earth to dig my way out, but it continued to pile onto me, so I willed myself to the surface and flew to the nearest cave.”
“When did this happen?” asked King Magnar.
“A decade ago, I think.”
“Around the time the spriggan appeared in my dream,” he whispered.
I stared down at Gladius. “Do you think your awakening freed the spriggans?”
His brows furrowed. “It’s possible.”
I bowed my head. That had to be a terrible burden to shoulder. We continued through the sea along the rock until the pearl broke through the surface of the water. By now, the afternoon sun shone in a cloudless sky, reflecting off the waves like molten gold.
“If preventing his rise means that I have to return to sleep, I’ll do it.”
My throat thickened. Poor Gladius had lived on his own without the company of dragons for so long. Why did he have to give up a potentially happy life of friends because of wretched spriggans desperate to resurrect an evil King? I shook my head. “The spriggans are awake, and even if they went back to sleep, the little ones might not. Master Jesper’s poison should be ready soon. We can pour it into the foghorn and kill all the spriggans before they act.”
He nodded, but the lines that etched his face reminded me of the expression of someone facing the gallows. I saw that look on Evolene the day we visited her in the Magical Militia prison.
The bubble rolled to the shore of the island covered in orange-red sand littered with shards of metal that glinted so brightly in the sun, they made me squint through the darkened walls of the bubble. Dozens of humans ran to us through a thick grove of dwarf coconut palms. My hand twitched toward my Parched Sword in case they were thinking of attacking.
Evolene said a few words to make the bubble shrink and return to its usual size. I helped Evolene down from Fyrian’s back, and she picked up the bubble and slipped it into the pocket of her cloak.
A middle-aged man with cauliflower-white hair jogged up to us. Unlike the humans we had met at the dragon facility, he looked clean and well-fed. “Are you here to take us home?”
I peered between the trunks of the palms to find glimpses of huts built from blocks of metal and thatched with dried palm leaves. “Don’t you live here?”
“We’re from Savannah.”
I glanced from the man to King Magnar. “Don’t you mean the Savannah Empire?”
“There’s no such thing.”
“How long have you been here?” asked King Magnar.
The man rubbed the back of his head. “I’m not sure. When I left home, it was the month of Junus in the fifteenth year of King Calder’s reign.”
“Five years,” said King Magnar through clenched teeth.
The man reared back, and the humans around him muttered. “What?” He reached into his pocket and pulled a miniature helmet, which expanded to full size. “This was supposed to help us survive underwater. Do you think that’s why our time here only felt like a few months?”
I opened and closed my mouth, not knowing what to say.
A taller man rushed toward us, with a mane of straw-like hair flopping in his face. “We’ve got to get back to Savannah. Can you take us home?”
King Magnar sighed. “How many people are on this island?”
“About two hundred.”
My mouth dropped open, and I looked up and down the beach. In the distance, two men pushed a fishing boat out to sea. Perhaps the spriggans had employed people to look after these workers.
“I’ll have to send a ship,” said King Magnar.
“What was your task?” It was callous of me to change the subject when the men had clearly been misused by the spriggans, but I had to find out whether they’d unearthed the Forgotten King.
“Mining,” replied the new man. We traveled down in magical contraptions in search of a sarcophagus.”
“Did you find it?” asked Gladius.
“We brought it up a few hours ago and loaded it onto a ship.”
Panic exploded across my chest, making my heart gallop. They’d found the Forgotten King. I spun toward the ocean and placed my hand over my brow to block out the glare of the sun, but there was no sign of a ship. “To where?”
“Savannah, of course.”
My stomach dropped. I was about to ask another question when something tinkled from within Evolene’s cloak.
Her eyes widened. “Oh! That’ll be Master Jesper.” She pulled out a pocket mirror and peered into its surface. “H-hello?”
“Madam Evolene.” The troll’s voice rang out from the device. “How goes the search?”
“Th-they’ve unearthed the Forgotten King!”
&
nbsp; Master Jesper paused for several seconds. “Is he awake yet?”
“We don’t know,” she replied.
“There’s no time to lose. Hurry back to the laboratory. I’ve completed the spriggan poison.”
Chapter 11
It took a few moments for everything to sink in. The spriggans acquiring the sarcophagus of the Forgotten King, their possession of pearls that could hold the combined power of his descendants, and the poison becoming ready. Master Jesper’s message was a spring of hope in a desert of what seemed like defeat. I stared from Evolene to Gladius, to King Magnar, mind brimming with conflicting thoughts. How were we going to return to Mount Fornax and reach the spriggans before they awoke the Forgotten King?
The afternoon sun emerged from behind a cloud, blazing down on our backs and turning the sand a disturbing shade of blood-orange. My throat dried and I closed my eyes, trying to think. The humans crowded around us and gaped. They were probably concerned with going home, but if the Forgotten King woke, an island made of fairy iron might be the safest place for them to hide.
“Fyri, we might have a bit of time. The spriggans couldn’t set foot on this island.”
She dipped her head. “If the fairy iron was strong enough to affect you and Gladius, it would probably kill them.”
“But what if they appeared on the boat and spirited the sarcophagus away?”
“They might if they had a way to communicate with the humans they deserted on this island.”
“Hello?” said Master Jesper from the enchanted mirror. “You’ve all gone awfully quiet. Has the magic thinned?”
“I will collect the poison,” said Gladius.
Before I could volunteer to go with him, he disappeared, making all the humans jump back and gasp. I frowned. That would have been a great opportunity to gather more people for the battle ahead.
Seconds later, Gladius reappeared, holding a rack of vials. Most of the humans disappeared back through the palm trees, leaving the pair who had spoken to us frozen with shock. King Magnar placed his hands on their shoulders, told them not to worry, and promised to send out a ship to bring them home. The two men shrugged and headed back down the beach and through the trees.
Gladius turned to Evolene. “The troll says you know how to use the poison.”
She pulled out one of the vials. “Splashing it on their skin is the most effective way to kill them. But let’s pour some in the foghorn now, so we’re ready for the spriggans.”
I unsheathed the horn from my sword belt. A stopper lay where some instruments kept their finger buttons, and pulled at it, exposing sloshing liquid. After upturning the horn, I held it up, ready for the poison. “The fin-man said it would work with any kind of elixir.”
Once she poured the green liquid into the foghorn, we both climbed on Fyrian’s back. King Magnar and his sisters mounted Byrrus.
Gladius positioned himself at the dragons’ tails. “Where is the next location, Magnar?”
“The spriggans are probably at my palace,” replied the King. “If you can send us three hundred and fifty leagues south-west, that will take us to the mountains behind the city, where we can mount a surprise attack.”
“Mountains?” I said. “Why not go to the palace courtyard or the port, where we can head them off before they reach the palace?”
Astri shook her head. “There are too many ports within traveling distance to the palace. If we go to one, we might miss our chance. Watching the palace from the mountain is our best chance. We don’t know what kind of wards they’re using. If we can land close, I might be able to perform some spells to find their weaknesses.”
Gladius growled. “This arguing is a waste of time!”
He transported us to the clearing of a lush forest filled with vines and leafy vegetation that reeked of rotting fruit. Warm, humid air seeped through my leather armor, making me squirm. Blocking the sun overhead hung a thick canopy of branches laden with glistening leaves and over-ripe mangoes. I tried coughing out the air, but its cloying scent stuck to my sinuses and lungs.
Evolene shifted on the saddle and pulled out her staff. “I’d better clear the air.” With a flick of her wrist, she removed the humidity and strong scent. “Aaah. That’s better.”
“There’s the palace grounds.” King Magnar pointed at a spot between the trees, where a white castle lay in the middle of a pristine courtyard of manicured lawns. “At least one spriggan is occupying my throne. Princess Alba, if you can blow your fog—”
He fell back onto the saddle, clutching his neck.
Astri and Botilda spun in their seats.
“Mag, what’s—” Astri clutched the side of her neck and froze.
My stomach flip-flopped. “King Magnar?”
Evolene threw up a magical bubble around our bodies. “Someone’s attacking!”
Four-foot-tall beings with tree-bark for skin stepped out from behind the trees, each carrying blowpipes. Fyrian and Byrrus sprayed flames over the edges of the clearing, setting them alight.
“What in the Known World are those?” I twisted in my saddle.
The creatures thrashed about, bumping into each other. Flames engulfed their small bodies, bringing up the hot, menthol scent of burning eucalyptus. A few of the bark-skinned beings exploded into embers that spread fire across the clearing. Moments later, they burned themselves out, and the embers reduced themselves to ash.
“I-I’ve never seen anything like them,” said Evolene. “Do you think there was an artifact making them attack?”
“They were just enchanted bits of wood,” said Fyrian.
“What makes you say that?” I asked.
“I couldn’t smell any life in them. They were like bits of furniture.”
“Can you see any more of them in the distance?”
“It’s hard to tell. Any piece of wood can attack at any time.”
I let out a long breath. She was right. It looked like spriggans had rigged the forest so that our only choice was to burn it down or leave. I pulled the foghorn off my sword belt. “Let me blow this. It might give us enough time to take Astri and King Magnar back to Mount Fornax for treatment.”
The ground rumbled. I leaned down to see what was causing the moment when the leaf litter moved. Hand-sized ants pushed themselves out of the ground. Some flew up into the air spreading gossamer wings the color of burned honey, and others crawled their way toward us.
I turned to Gladius, ready to tell him to get us out, but he lay motionless on the ground between the dragons’ tails. My stomach flip-flopped. What could affect a master dragon so badly? “Gladius?”
Fyrian twitched. “I can’t reach his mind.”
Byrrus threw back his head and roared.
“What’s happening?” I asked out loud.
“T-they’re getting underneath my scales.” Her entire body shuddered.
“Evolene, can you get rid of the ants?” I turned to where Byrrus tossed his head and set the forest canopy alight. “Botilda, any ideas?”
She shrieked. “They’ve penetrated my magical barrier!”
I turned around to take another look at Gladius. Ants covered his pale skin, making me shudder with disgust. “Fyri, you need to get off the ground. I’m going to set the jungle on fire and see if I can burn the ants off Gladius.”
“B-but they’re under my scales and tickling my under-skin. I can’t fly in those conditions!”
I withdrew my parched sword and turned the stream of fire onto Gladius’ prone body. The ants burned and fizzled and popped, releasing a bizarre scent of urine and burning coconuts. Their charred remains stuck to his hair and skin.
“Oh!” cried Evolene. “They’ve gone through my shield.”
I closed my eyes and breathed hard. How could I fix things? Setting my own skin alight would burn all the ants, but it would also burn Evolene. I could move further down Fyrian’s back, but I’d be saving myself and leaving the ants to consume her. “Can you think of any spells?”
She flicke
d her staff, and wind swirled around the clearing, making some of the giant ants swirl in the air. I shuddered at the sight of them. With their segmented bodies, long antennae, spindly legs, and transparent wings, they were as bad as the locusts.
Something sharp pierced the side of my neck. I flinched, clutching at the affected area. “Ouch!” An ant’s body cracked under my fingers, and I batted it out of the way. “Disgusting creature!”
Fyrian’s wings flapped. She stamped her feet and thrashed her tail. “The ants… They’re all over me!”
Another ant bit my earlobe, then the nape of my neck, then my scalp. I flailed about, trying to get the creatures off my body, but they were too fast, too numerous, too persistent. Cold, white panic engulfed my senses, wrapped itself around my lungs and throat, and cut off my air. The ants had gotten to Gladius. They’d gotten to the dragons. And now they’d gotten to us. Evolene slumped forward, her staff rolling down the side of Fyrian’s body. To our right, Botilda lay frozen atop her older brother and sister.
With arms that felt as heavy as oak, I raised the foghorn to my lips and blew. Before I could produce a wisp of poisoned mist, everything went black.
I floated in the darkness with my arms stretched out. It reminded me of the meditation exercise I had performed with Fyrian in her stall. “Fyri? Gladius?”
Nobody replied.
Pushing aside thoughts of what those ants might be doing to our unconscious bodies, I spun around, looking for the moon or some other target to fly toward. All I found was more darkness. This had to be the work of the spriggans. Ants couldn’t penetrate magical barriers. They must have known someone would use the mountains outside the palace as a vantage point to stage an attack and had set traps to incapacitate their enemies.
“What is this?” I shouted. “Show yourself!”
No smug voice or mocking laughter answered my call. Just more silence.
I growled. “Aren’t you going to fight me face-to-face? What kind of coward sets ants on people?”
The same kind of coward who would send poison through the fog horn, said a voice in the back of my head that was most likely my conscience. I clenched my imaginary teeth. There was no shame in poisoning an enemy that would torture dragons, enslave humans, attack my pregnant aunt, and manipulate a little boy into loving six imprisoned little girls, only to use their safety as bargaining tools years later.
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