by R Cavanaugh
The beads of water had become little beads of light that, while emitting enough light to see where they were going, weren’t bright enough for seeing much else.
“Sir?”
It was Draco, and Exotius knew what the question would be.
“We will stop for a while.” I suppose, he thought, if these foolish Aquamarinains really need it.
As was custom to such an announcement, sighs of relief and some various forms of snoring followed, disturbing an otherwise empty and silent tunnel. As he was sitting, a single bead of water caught his eye. It was one of the more brilliant ones, and as he watched, its brilliant light was extinguished as the root absorbed it.
I must be under the Forest of Magus, he thought, for nothing else could explain the strange occurrences in this tunnel.
Then there were voices. As he heard them, he noted that their voices seemed muffled, making them seem very distant. He started to move toward the tunnel entrance when he heard a crunching noise that merged into a rumble. It was low, then it was louder, and then louder than that.
“Get up, all of you!” he ordered, practically yelling himself hoarse over the noise of the collapsing tunnel.
“Don’t just stand there—move!” As he said these words, one fell behind them, and with a cry for help, he was silenced by the thunderous roar of earth and trees.
Exotius only stopped when the thunder stopped and turned to see that they had run quite a distance back in the direction he started in. He could tell because it was lighter, and the beads were gone. He had only a few men left. Then there was the irreversible knowledge that he would have to return and tell the king that a cave-in, of all things, had stopped him in his tracks.
In reading the sign closest to him, he saw it led to a building in HawThorns.
“This way.”
It took almost a day to get aboveground in HawThorns and for the animals to readjust to the light. Exotius hadn’t allowed the animals to stay behind and become a sitting target for an enemy, yet the animals seemed to be suffering because of his decision. His men and their animals were wrecks and were now complaining. Why, he didn’t know; they were still alive. Draco had died in the collapsing cave, and Yaven was his new head.
“They look unfit to be led by you,” Wildfire whinnied. His black mane rippled in the wind, his bloodred form stood tall, and his ash eyes stared at Exotius.
“I don’t get to choose who follows me—completely,” he sighed.
“Where to now, master?”
“Back to the castle,” he said with reproach. “And hope that the king hears our story before he passes judgment.”
At these words he and his men began their day-long trek to the city of Decorus Regnum Corset, and hopefully the king wouldn’t be there waiting for them. It was as they approached the city’s spectacular gate that two figures reached the front of the city as well.
Constance was clearly visible from a distance, due to her white body and red spots, and therefore it must be Jonathan on the horse beside her…
“That’s your story, then,” Constance mused, “I would have thought there would have been more killing in it.”
“Shut up, Constance,” Jonathan groaned.
“That’s enough,” Exotius growled as Constance was about to make a retort. “We haven’t time for this petty, pointless bickering.”
“Yes, Constance, why don’t you try to keep that toothy trap of yours shut?” Wildfire said in a sharp, high voice.
Exotius was tired of all the stupidity in this world and wondered if the planet Earth was different.
“Let us go to the castle,” he said firmly and looking straight at Jonathan. “There we can make a plan of action and lay out our explanation for the king.”
“How,” said an exasperated Jonathan, “are we to explain this?”
And with that they entered the city and prepared for their destined fate.
Chapter 16
The Task at Hand
In the Bejeweled Garden
Igneous sat on a rock in the center of the bejeweled garden and was staring at the rose bush that had, at one time, produced emeralds for the true ruler of Aquamarine. The bush was said to produce flowers of emerald green, and at moments the blooms would be made of solid emeralds, each petal more brilliant than the other.
It was this particular bush that was thought to have produced the famed Tiara of Emerald Thorns. No one knew what it looked like or if the legend was really true; no one except him. He had seen it only once, when the bush had been growing it; though at the time he had thought nothing of it.
The tiara was simple and elegant, set in a white-gold frame with emerald thorns on the frame. But when it had been finished, it disappeared off of the stem, magicked to some hidden location. He knew that by having a general idea of how it looked, he had the advantage of finding it, but where to look had always been another story.
“It could be anywhere,” he said aloud, almost hoping the plant would tell him where it had been sent.
He stood up and began down the only path that led out of the room. As he reached the door, it swung open without him even touching it, and he passed by the sapphire and aquamarine bushes. As he passed by them, his anger burned inside of him at the thought that both of them hadn’t bloomed, like all the others, since his rule began.
As he exited the room, the door closed behind him, and he began to walk up the stairs. These stairs were narrow, winding, and actually led to his private quarters on the third floor, so it was a long climb.
The climb always gave him time to ponder what was going on and to plan a course of action. Even after being put through his torture methods, that Dathen boy had not been any more helpful than he had been the two nights and single day previous. Not only that, but the boy didn’t even survive the methods and died before he could become of any use.
“It is so hard to find good help,” he voiced, frustrated.
This, however, didn’t help, and he continued his trek up the stairs with only torches to light his way. Then there was the matter of his brother, who was more useless than that boy and hardly as loyal. With Constance by his side, there was no way he could be trusted.
Exotius was the other issue. He was powerful, and there was a chance, however slight, that he could overthrow the king. This was something he was always on the lookout for, and since the visit to the House Made of Trees, he was going to pay even closer attention.
His thought had carried him to the landing and the secret door in front of him. As it opened before him, he found himself in a grand bedchamber and watched as a framed portrait came down and the bookcase closed behind him. His room had gold-plated trim and a balcony that looked to the west, where the great lake of Veteris Spiritus resided, along with the ancient ruins of Aquamarine.
There was a grand fireplace across from his king-size canopy bed, which had drapes of red mingled with black. There was a set of furniture that the people of Earth would call chairs and a sofa; he just called them furniture. There were wood end tables with gold inlay in the shape of untamed flames. The door located directly across from the balcony led to the hallway to his private floor. The rooms on this level were off-limits to those without his personal permission.
There was a library, a study, a second bedroom that was never entered, and a dead-end with a balcony facing the north and the royal garden. The hall led to a staircase that took him to the second floor, where special combat training was taught. Then it continued down to the ground floor, where there was an entrance hall, a throne room, and a ballroom. Not to mention that there were several bathrooms on each floor. The second floor led to another staircase, where there were guests’ quarters and the larger and more public library. The dungeons and torture chambers were located below the ground level, and a hallway just to the right of the main entrance led to prisoners and people like them.
He
grinned to himself. He had just taken a mental tour of his own castle, but that was fine by him because he knew every nook and cranny in this castle: every secret passageway, major and minor room.
As his thoughts fell on the castle’s floor plans once again, a knock happened at the door.
“Sire,” the voice of one of his guards echoed, “Exotius and your brother, Jonathan, are in the throne room.”
Say what? he thought angrily. How could they be back so soon?
“Very well,” he growled.
With those words he heard the guard turn and leave to return to his position at the end of the hall.
Those two had better have a damn good reason for returning so quickly. After all, he hadn’t minced any words with them. They knew what was expected, and if they haven’t at least gotten the girl, there would be hell to pay.
Deciding he better go down, he pulled on a shirt and walked toward the door and opened it. As he walked down the hall and down the stairs, he was setting his mood for when he entered the room. He decided that he would pretend that he was curious before he lost his temper.At the bottom of the stairs, he arrived in the entrance hall, and here he veered right down another hall, passing a few minor rooms and then stopping at the door on his left.
When he entered the room, a man announced his arrival, and the two men performed a low bow as he walked past them. When he finally sat down on his throne, he turned his head in order to look at the men in the room. His fierce gaze practically told them that they had best have a good reason for showing up without Heartington’s daughter or the youngest son of Tungston.
“Well,” he said, putting on a false smile, “this is a surprise. Here you both are—”
“Sire—”
“I’m not finished,” he said, and at this point, he was on his feet and walking toward them. “As I was saying, I am surprised. And it seems that you two are the only company I’ll be having tonight.”
“Igneous.” Jonathan winced.
“Yet,” he pressed on, now only feet away, closing the gap fast and completely ignoring his brother, “I distinctly remember saying that neither of you were to return without bringing to me the last of the Heartingtons and the youngest Tungston.”
Here he paused, letting his words crash upon them like a storm-driven wave would upon the shore.
“So,” he growled, with all pretense of understanding and generosity gone, replaced only with rage, “I hope that one of you will have a very good reason for being here and disobeying every one of my very direct orders!”
His voice was now reverberating off of the walls and ceiling, making the last of his anger-driven words echo for a few moments after he had finished. As he stood breathing very heavily, he found himself looking into the eyes of both men. He found them to be displaying very different things.
In his brother Jonathan’s eyes were complete and utter terror and a clear wish that he was anywhere but in this room, which was just about normal. Exotius, on the other hand, was a much harder read. Igneous’s best friend and man had eyes that hid all thoughts and emotions, but his overconfidence sometimes gave away what it was he was thinking.
“Sire,” whispered Exotius, with an attempt at shame in his voice, “I admit to failing you.”
“Oh, I already knew that!” Igneous raged, “I just haven’t guessed how yet!”
“If you permit me, Your Majesty, I shall explain,” Exotius said calmly, “but know this beforehand: Jonathan and I plan to set things right, no matter the cost.”
With raised eyebrows Igneous walked back to his throne and sat down and waited for the story to begin. Exotius explained about the traitor in their midst that he had disposed of after he had found the escape tunnel. He learned of how the lion Jerard had been an explosive magical device that had led to the deaths of five men. Then he heard about the cave collapse that had stopped them in their tracks and ruined all. How getting back he had come out of a tunnel in HawThorns, and after heading to Decorus Regnum Corset, he had run into Jonathan and Constance at the gate to the city.
Here Jonathan explained his intentions to rendezvous with Exotius to help look for the girl. Jonathan admitted that he had seriously considered waiting for his brother to return up at the castle but had thought better of it and was about to set out toward HawThorns when he saw Exotius approaching him. That it was at the gate of Decorus Regnum Corset that both he and Exotius decided to wait for the king to return.
When they were done speaking, both men stood before him, waiting for him to pass judgment. He could most definitely tell Jonathan was speaking the truth and assumed that Exotius was mostly doing the same. If it was all true, the rebels’ hideout must be in the Forest of Magus or Promise. Wherein they would be even harder to find, and he had already decided he would rather defend his city against them than go and find them. As for not getting ahold of the girl, now there was no question of what would be done if she were found; she must be destroyed.
“Sire?”
Exotius had spoken first, clearly wanting new orders or some other form of direction. However, it was at this point that something distracted him from Exotius by walking into the room unannounced, and it was white.
Constance, he thought irritably, just what I needed right now.
“Welcome, Constance,” he said with a smile on his lips but with a tone as unwelcoming as his eyes. “I see you managed to miss my lecture on disappointment once again.”
“Oh, I am disappointed,” Constance said sarcastically as she came to stand next to Jonathan, “I was sooo looking forward to it.”
Igneous’s mouth twitched at this. Exotius had placed one hand over his eyes and was shaking his head.
“Constance,” Jonathan hissed, his whole body shaking, his face blotchy. “Shut up!”
At these infuriated words, Constance stretched out her front legs, extending her paws and claws, and she opened her mouth in a long, toothy yawn.
Igneous scowled and stood back up. There was much to do; he needed to start looking for the Tiara and had been in high hopes about having the girl out of the way by now. But that was not the case, and now it more critical than ever to find the headdress first.
“We need to move quickly,” he was saying more to himself than to the others. “If the girl finds the Tiara before us, we will be at the disadvantage.”
“Why?” Jonathan said ignorantly. “I mean, it’s just a piece of jewelry. It couldn’t possibly do anything for her.”
“Idiot!” Igneous shouted, his temper at full boiling point, sending Constance crawling for cover. “The headdress is an icon to these people. Whoever has it will be considered the rightful ruler of this kingdom.”
“OK!” winced a cowering Jonathan.
“Where would you like to start, my king?” Exotius said with fire dancing in his eyes.
“We will start by researching every possible place that it could be.” Here he paused to glare at them both. “Then you and I, Exotius, will go to search the most likely of the places while Jonathan stands guard over the castle and the city.”
“Igneous, I don’t think I could—”
“Where he will lead part of my army in defense of this city, or he will suffer my ultimate and unwavering wrath!” Igneous had shouted this last statement and had, in doing so, drowned out the rest of his brother’s sentence.
He was tired of his cowardly brother leaning on him for protection. What probably aggravated him even more was that his brother Jonathan’s animal, Constance, had more of a spine than his brother did.
“Now,” Igneous said in a very forcedly calm voice, “I want to see you both in my private library in one hour’s time and for you to be ready to work until we find all of the answers.”
With these final words, he looked at his brother and Constance who, at some point, had decided it was safe to come out from behind one of the many pillars. Both she and h
is brother looked weakly at him at the sound of the word “work.” For Constance it was simply a lack of drive; she just did not want to do anything that required her to produce an end result. For his brother it was for a different reason. Jonathan hated working with his brother because Igneous was a very hard man to please.
Exotius simply gave a small nod and began to walk around the room, looking at one of the paintings. For him it was just another day of serving the king.
Satisfied that he had been understood, he began to stride across the room. Just as he exited the room and was about to continue left, he heard Exotius start to speak to Jonathan and decided to lean on the wall and hear what he had to say.
“See, I told you that if you remained silent, he would believe both of our stories and not just mine.” It was with these words that Exotius began to walk in the other direction, slightly chuckling an evil chuckle.
“I don’t think,” Jonathan whispered slowly to Constance, “that my silence is why Igneous believed me, or him, for that matter.”
“Why do you say that?” she whispered and began to clean herself.
“Because I know Igneous, and he has never been fooled or been made a fool of.”
“He was both, twenty-one years or so ago,” Constance mused as she continued to clean herself.
“That,” Jonathan said in a tired tone, “was a onetime thing.”
And with those words, Jonathan began with Constance in the same direction that Exotius had gone. It was only as his brother’s footsteps had faded that Igneous went left down the hallway and began his trek back to his private wing. He made most of the journey back without thought. It was as he began up the second flight of stairs that he couldn’t help grinning to himself and saying aloud,
“At least you know me by now, my brother.”
Chapter 17
Training to Be Rose of RTET
Camp of RTET, Forest of Promise
It had been more than a week since Rose had arrived in the Forest of Promise, and some changes had come about in her. Some were noticeable, like her appearance. The clothes that she had been wearing since she had arrived were now torn, stained, and just plain filthy. She was now wearing a set of what seemed to be generic armor. It was all black, and man, was it hot and heavy. She was still wearing her boots despite many objections by the people equipping her. The armor was not the only addition she had to her appearance. She was now equipped with a sword, shield, and a bow with a sheath of arrows, all of which she was expected to master.
