“I don’t want the spiders getting into our room!” Raaheel sat up. She held the bed sheet under her chin. Her eyes were wide open, and scanning every corner of the room.
Sarah shot up, and sat beside her sister. Raaheel wrapped an arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “Are there spiders in here? Are there more inside the castle? I think they might already be in here, they’re already in our bedchamber!” Sarah pulled blankets up under her chin as her eyes wildly scanned the room.
Cordillera pressed thumbs against his temples. “No, child of mine, there are no spiders in the bedchamber, or anywhere else in the castle, for that matter. The spiders are gone. We’ve searched the everywhere, everywhere. There are no more. You have nothing left to fear from those pesky bugs,” the king said. While he was impressed with Ida’s creativity, he wondered if she could have chosen a different way in which to carry out the plan. Effective, however, the spiders had handled the execution perfectly. He’d not heard a single murmur of a suspicious death or foul play.
“But how can you know for certain? Spiders hide very well. They live in the walls. There could be a nest of them somewhere, and we won’t even know until they next attack,” Raaheel said.
This was the point where he was certain expectations as a father came into play. He just was never good at them. He blamed his wife for that. The fat cow had turned his children against him. Soon he’d have a son, and then the daughters cowering in front of him would become inconsequential. Until then, parental responsibilities were his, he supposed.
Cordillera sat down on the side of the bed. He poised hand over the covered leg of his daughter, and patted the air once, twice, before his palm actually touched the sheet, and her knee beneath it. “There, there,” he said. “I know for certain the spiders are gone. Those involved with the extermination have assured me there is not a single arachnid inside the castle, poisonous or otherwise. They wouldn’t mislead their king, now would they?”
The princesses shook their heads.
“That’s right. And do you know why they wouldn’t dare lie to their king?” Cordillera said.
“Because you’d have their heads chopped off,” Raaheel said.
King Hermon Cordillera smiled. It had been some time since he’d felt any sense of pride toward his children. The warmth that now filled his heart was an unexpectedly pleasant sensation. “Lay down now,” he said.
They did, and he covered them with both the bed sheet and the blanket.
“It’s time for the two of you to get some sleep,” he said. Somehow he’d managed to conjure up a calm and cool tone of voice. He impressed himself. Was it possible some of the emotions running through him were genuine?
It didn’t seem likely, but then, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d ever had one-on-one time with his girls. They’d always been with their mother.
“Father?” Sarah said.
Cordillera stood up. “Yes?”
“Will you sit with us, just until we fall asleep?” Sarah said.
“Please, father, would you?” Raaheel said.
“I have so many things to do,” he said.
“But father, we don’t want to be alone. Not tonight,” Raaheel said. “As soon as we’re asleep, you can leave.”
“Are you really telling your king what he can do, and when he can do it? Enough of this foolishness!” Cordillera spun the knob on the oil lamp, and the flame went out. He stomped his way out of their bed chamber, slamming the wood door behind him.
He heard his daughters crying, even as he made his way down the hall. Damned rock walls. Everything echoed. Ida waited for him in the dungeon. He had no time for foolishness. No time to spare for it at all!
***
Galatia woke up… under ground.
Only that wasn’t exactly right, or accurate. She couldn’t remember having been asleep. She was standing, too, not lying down. She didn’t wake up down here. She opened her eyes and was down here, under the ground. That still didn’t feel correct, but it was closer to truth. Closer, but not exactly correct.
Large tree roots surrounded her, like texture in walls of dirt. More severed or dangling roots, protruded from dirt above her head. They were everywhere, thick, and intertwining, like petrified anacondas. All around was a maze of tunnels branching off in different directions.
The dirt walls were alive with insects. Spiders and roaches ran here and there. The roaches hissed like cats, and were big like rats. Fat worms wiggled as they burrowed into and out of the dirt. She saw juicy white bugs with hundreds of legs scurry around on the soft ground, and on the soft ceiling above her. Her entire body itched in a way that was impossible to scratch. She pictured insects crawling over her skin. She shook her head; certain bugs fell into her hair.
There was something familiar about the surroundings, though. Something she thought she should know about where she was, and yet she couldn’t figure it out. It was there. Right there, only just out of reach.
She rested a hand on her forehead. It throbbed slightly at the temples. Her eyes ached. Everything around her was just slightly out of focus; was more than a bit blurry. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with her. Her vision was clouded over, as if fog covered her eyeballs, and she’d be able to see more clearly if she could just swipe the fog away.
She couldn’t remember how she got here. Worse, she wasn’t sure where here was. Or could she? It was familiar. There was no denying that. She continued looking around, hoping she might see something which would spark her memory, explain why she was here, and how she’d gotten here. So far nothing did the trick.
The answer was there, as if actual words ready to be spoken just inside her mouth, but she couldn’t speak them, and was inexplicably unable to pronounce any of the words. She knew her thoughts were jumbled and confused. None of anything she thought was making sense. It was just her way of working it all out. The only way she’d find answers was to keep searching. This was how she always searched. Thinking, and overthinking.
Her memory was like her vision, she realized; a little blurred, a bit out of focus.
Her sense of smell wasn’t impaired. Above ground it must have rained. The wet worms distinctly smelled like dead fish. The putrid odor was intensified under the trees, and walking through worm homes didn’t help the situation any. The ground was very soft and moist. Her feet left deep impressions in the dirt. She felt the mud squish between her toes, and only then, when she looked down, did she realize she was barefoot. The earth was cold and so damp against her skin. She didn’t like being under the trees. There must be a way out, a way up.
Under the trees.
That was familiar. It touched off on something inside her mind, triggered a memory.
Mykal.
Mykal had gone under the trees in the Cicade Forest with Blodwyn.
She spun around. Where were they? Could they still be down here?
“Mykal?” No one answered. Her voice echoed. There was no reason it should echo down under the trees.
Where did the light come from?
“Mykal?”
Still nothing. The boy didn’t respond. She knew she was lost. There had to be a way out. It was almost as if she had been buried inside a giant grave. She would die if she didn’t find what she was looking for.
Why had she thought that?
Was she looking for something?
What had Mykal been looking for? He and Blodwyn had crawled under the trees for a reason. Something had been hidden beneath the ground.
There was something down here for her. Finding it was essential.
The mirror!
She was looking for a small hand mirror.
A wave of memories came upon her. The surge of images filled her mind. She saw the mirror clearly. It was oval-shaped, with a hand-chased beveled floral design, and rope twist border.
It wasn’t her mirror. That wasn’t why she was looking for it. The hand mirror once belonged to Pendora.
Pendora was a wizard.
A wizard in hid
ing.
She thought of mermaids, but no. That wasn’t right. Mermaids had nothing to do with Pendora.
Her hand touched her chest. More of her was missing. She wore a piece of jewelry. It was gone. She closed her eyes. She saw it in her mind: an amethyst, which had been given to her by the mermaids.
The mermaids.
How did she know the mermaids? They were not a friendly school.
The necklace was a gift from them; had been a gift from them. She had lived with them. They had taken her in. Galatia remembered living under the Isthmian, in a cave. The mermaids protected her, and fed her.
They left piles of dead fish on the seashell shore.
It smelled similar to being under- ground. Dead fish.
She lived with the mermaids because she had been hiding.
She spun around. Her vision cleared some. It was right… there.
The mirror called Pendora. That was why the sorceress had hidden the mirror. It was in case the others needed her.
Others?
One thing at a time. Focus, focus.
She held the mirror in her hand. Had—had she been holding it the entire time?
***
The Mountain King stood over Galatia’s body. She was shackled ankles and wrists on the table. Ragged and tattered garments barely covered her body. Her skin was scarred with cuts and bruises. Infection had set in on her left leg. Curers worked the wounds, fighting the fever. They covered the gashes with a thick paste that smelled like dung and vomit, and then set palm leaves onto the paste. He had complete confidence in the royal curer. He knew if he failed it was his head hanging in the balance. Literally. He didn’t want Galatia dead, or worse, missing a limb.
He watched Ida do her magic. He wished he knew what was going on. Once she had explained the plan for summoning the wizards in hiding, he instructed her on how to guide Galatia from one talisman to the other. When Ida set the mirror in Galatia’s hand, he knew they were much, much closer. His mouth filled with saliva, and if he didn’t swallow it, he’d begin drooling with anticipation.
He wasn’t sure how, but Ida had placed Galatia under a simple enchantment. It wasn’t difficult. The sorcerer was mentally broken. The torturing had taken a toll on her spirits, and now she was spiritually dry. The limited food given left her physically weak, starving and unstable. The witch suggested Galatia sleep, and Galatia’s eyes closed. It was nearly instantaneous.
Once under Ida’s control, it was easy for the witch to maneuver through the woman’s mind. It came down to creating, or re-creating memories. Ida wanted Galatia to believe she was safe, somewhere far from Cordillera’s dungeons. That might prove the most difficult part of the magical challenge. However, once Galatia accepted her surroundings, Ida would give her the mirror, and have her summon a wizard. One by one, until all three were secured in cages Cordillera had specifically spell-casted, preventing the wizards from escaping, or using powers to harm either of them.
He wished he could be inside their heads, and see the dream Ida planted into Galatia’s reality. Her incoherent chanting meant nothing to him. Instead he was forced to use his imagination.
“Your Highness,” Ida said.
“Yeah, what?”
“I said, the first wizard is Pendora. The mirror was hers. I am convincing Galatia that she needs the other wizard’s help. This might take a little more doing. Her brain isn’t as mushy as I suspected. Her willpower is tougher than I thought,” Ida said.
Cordillera waved his hand. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can you do this or not?”
Ida looked over Galatia’s body. Her eyes started at the toes and traveled up to the mirror in Galatia’s hand. “I can do it.”
“Then get to work. Do it.”
Ida lowered the hood on her cloak. It was like she knew the sight of her face unnerved the king. “I just want you ready. I have no idea how this will turn out. Pendora might show up right here next to us, or outside the castle, or over in the Grey Ashland for all I know.”
“You never said that. That’s a new wrinkle,” Cordillera said.
“It’s not a wrinkle. I think I can control it. I just want you ready.”
“I’m ready.”
She pulled back on her hood. “I’m going back in.”
***
Galatia sat in a corner with her knees at her chest. She held the mirror in one hand, and the other held her legs closed. She shivered. It was terribly cold below the trees. The roots draped over her shoulders like groping arms. The spiders dropped from above and skittered across her shoulder and down her back. Worms protruded from the dirt; the head whirled around, silent screams echoed inside her head. She closed her eyes and wished everything away.
Everything, except for the mirror.
There was no way out. The light around her kept fading. Soon she would be surrounded by darkness; trapped, she would become food for the grubs and night crawlers. They would eat her alive.
She looked into the mirror.
She couldn’t believe the reflection she saw was her. Her green hair had turned white, and most of it was missing. Her skin was riddled with thick, deep wrinkles. It was as if her face was filled with ruts. Her lips had become thin and grey, and cracked.
How was this possible?
Something bit the bottom of her bare feet. She screamed, and kicked at nothing.
Something else bit her on the back. She moved away from the dirt, and the roots. On all fours she scurried toward the center of the tunnel.
The unknown light source continued to diminish.
She couldn’t handle the dark. She was suddenly afraid of the dark, afraid of being alone. She did not want to die down under the trees.
Scraping noises came from behind her.
What made scraping noises like that? She didn’t want to turn and look. She had no idea what was back there. She didn’t want to know, either. She just wanted out of there. There had to be a way out, a way back to the surface.
The scraping was closer.
She cried, tears streamed down her cheeks. The teardrops fell onto the back of her hands. She turned the mirror over. In the reflection she saw the dangling straggles of her hair reach down toward the glass. Her eyes were like black balls inside knuckled sockets. “Help me, Pendora. Please. I’m afraid. I’m so afraid!”
Chapter 18
Mykal stumbled on the rocks, and fell.
“Don’t move,” Eadric said. “Stay perfectly still.”
They had been walking in a line ever since they left the valley and started on a trail through the lowlands of the Rames. To the southwest was the fjord, and to the southeast Cordillera’s castle. They were clearly inside the Osiris boundaries.
Daylight was hours away.
Basin insisted they move through the night, despite the dangerous drop-offs along the mountain trail, to prevent giving away their location. A line of torches, he warned, would look suspicious even to the most incompetent sentry.
Mykal laid flat on his belly, and held his breath. He couldn’t see the nose on the end of his face, it was that dark. Once his father warned him, he heard the danger.
Something hissed.
“It’s a spitting cobra,” Eadric said. “The venom is harmless enough if it hits your skin.”
“Keep your eyes closed,” Blodwyn said.
Mykal shut his eyes. If the venom sprayed his face, there was a chance he’d be blinded forever.
Even with his eyes closed, Mykal saw behind his eyelids a zap of brilliant light.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Quill said. “Magic will warn the Mountain King we’re close.”
“I wasn’t going to let my son go blind!” Anna said.
“You can open your eyes,” Blodwyn said.
Mykal felt rough hands grab his shoulders and pull him onto his feet. When he opened his eyes, Eadric was brushing crumbled rock dust off Mykal’s clothing. “You all right, boy?”
“I’m fine.” Mykal wouldn’t admit his heart hammered away inside his ch
est. Everyone was so silent he was certain they could hear it beating anyway. “How did you know it was there?”
“I could hear him,” Eadric said.
“I thought I sensed it slithering,” Quill said. “These things are a bit of a problem in the Cicade. Or were. Not big on killing wildlife, but the danger they possess outweighs the good they do, at least when it comes to the safety of my men.”
Mykal wasn’t sure what good a venomous snake did. He was on his feet, and could see, so it wasn’t worth discussing further. “Mom, are you okay?”
She hugged her son. He felt her hands tremble.
“I haven’t used magic in so long, I forgot what it felt like,” she said. Her voice was a whisper in his ear. “I didn’t think about it. I just did it. I could have put everyone in jeopardy, if the use of my magic was detected.”
She was right. They didn’t want the Mountain King tipped off about their arrival. “You saved me,” he said. “Thank you.”
“I should have been with you, Mykal. I didn’t know you had magic. If I had, I’d have taken you with me. I never would have left you,” she said.
Everyone was walking again. Basin led the way. Coil and Blodwyn were close behind him, and Quill and Eadric walked just behind Mykal and his mother. They all kept close. With the exception of Basin, no one was sure what to expect. The night was less than half over. The clouds kept the moon covered. The darkness was like an entity pressing its weight onto them from every direction.
“Until a few months ago, I didn’t know I was a wizard,” Mykal said. He almost cringed using the word. It was one of those things that still he still needed getting used to. As a kid he remembered thinking he’d do great things. Most kids did. Then, most kids worked family farms. Some became squires with the aspirations of becoming a knight. It was the long hours repairing fencing around grandfather’s property when his imagination tricked him into daydreaming. Of all the things he thought on, being a wizard never crossed his mind. The king’s decree, and the royal Watch, instilled in him an almost loathing for all things magic.
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