Finding Aurora

by Rebecca Langham

  “What is it?” he called out, as he rolled to avoid another blow. Fatigue invaded his limbs. I could see the dull, throbbing blackness of it clouding his body.

  “You need to stop.”

  “Stop?” My prince hissed as Black Eyes slashed at his belly at the same time Orange Eyes punched him in the side. He’d not been able to avoid both attacks, and a thin line of red bled through the front of his tunic. “That’s a good way to get me killed.”

  “Then, run!” I shrieked. I needed him to get away. To let me see all three goblins at once. There could be nothing between them and me. Incantations are one of the most powerful, yet most dangerous forms of magic. If my words encountered any physical barriers, the force with which I imbued them might be distorted. The results could be disastrous. “Head for one of the doors. Anything. Just get out of the way.”

  “I hope you know—” He kicked at a goblin, knocking its small blade to the ground. “—what you’re doing.”

  I hoped so, too. Amir twisted his body in an impressive evasion, withdrawing from the fray and running towards the column I’d been hiding behind. The three cursed princes snarled and huffed as they gave chase.

  With nothing between myself and the goblins, I pulled my arms in to my chest, drawing every scrap of the divine in the air towards me. As I spoke, I laced each syllable with the energy I’d collected, as well as the innate magic that’d always lived within me. It was a warming sensation that never ceased to make me feel both energised and terrified.

  “Memoriala Mandetis!”

  The collective howl released by the brothers reverberated through my bones, as though they experienced ecstasy, torment, and release all at once. They each toppled over as their memories raged within them, clawing through their bodies, fighting for purchase in their discoloured minds. Amir watched in disbelief, his mouth hanging open in a demented sneer. I’d never seen him appear…ugly. So, he was as imperfect as the rest of us, after all.

  “What’s happening?” he yelled, hunching over.

  “They’re fighting to find their way home,” I replied. “We can do no more.”

  The wails of the goblin brothers grew deeper but quieter as they writhed on the ground, the pebbles crackling beneath them adding to the unnatural cacophony. Their skin changed colour as though it might turn back to stone, yet it did not harden.

  “Enough!” Orange Eyes called out in a human-sounding voice, thrashing his arms to the side. His fingers elongated, his legs reached outward, the marbled complexion melting away to expose a milky cinnamon tone. The changes seemed to cause him no pain, nor did his bones creak or crack as they rearranged. No, the reformation of the Oldpass prince didn’t hurt because he wasn’t being broken. He was being repaired, his essence refilling the mould to which it belonged.

  “By the goddess,” Amir said as he fell to his knees. “They’re people.”

  Silver armour fell away from the restored prince’s body as his two brothers continued to struggle nearby. Their memories swarmed troubled minds. Traces of the images and thoughts seeping through their muscles were visible like a cleansing misty cloud. The problem was that they themselves could not seem to decide what images were real and which were propagated by Tanit’s curse.

  Amir rushed forward, unfastened his cloak, and threw it about the now-naked body of what used to be the goblin with orange eyes. The fair-skinned teenager tapped Amir’s hand gratefully and then pulled the cloak tighter about himself. This must’ve been the twin of the boy lying dead on the ground across the courtyard, their thoughtful chocolate-brown eyes and smooth cheekbones identical. He rolled onto his stomach and pushed onto his hands and knees before releasing a horrid cough. A pungent, thick fluid fell out of his mouth and onto the ground as he continued to cough and gag. I could practically taste the bile in my own throat as I looked on, my stomach squirming.

  As though the disturbing expulsion were a signal, his two brothers flung their arms outward as he’d done moments earlier, their legs stiffening and lengthening as their own transformations began. Pus-ridden, angry orbs dissolved, replaced by humanistic brown eyes. Straight auburn hair pushed through the changing skin atop their heads, stopping short at their ears.

  These two were younger, perhaps fourteen or so. As their older sibling stood unsteadily, the younger twins coughed up the remnants of Tanit’s spell, their naked backs heaving with the effort. I wished I could help them somehow, help them erase the bitter, awful taste of dark magic from their mouths and their souls, but there was nothing more I could do. The eldest brother stood to his full height, though he was several centimetres shorter than Amir, who remained behind him, sword still in hand.

  “I’m Callum. The firstborn prince of Oldpass.” The young man’s lips trembled, his eyes weary. Callum’s words projected confidence, though the rest of him did not. “Who are you?”

  “This is my prince.” I pointed. “His Highness Amir of Grimvein.”

  Callum turned from me to Amir and back again. “I know of no Amir in Grimvein. Their rulers have only daughters. I am to marry their eldest in four years, should we still wish to do so.” Oh, no. Another person he has lost. Were we rescuing these people or damning them?

  “Talia tells the truth,” Amir said calmly. “My parents are the king and queen of Grimvein. The princess you were betrothed to, Rima, is my great-grandmother. She lived a long life but has been gone for almost ten years. A great deal has happened since you were last here.”

  “Yes.” He looked about the dilapidated courtyard, his gaze detached and discerning at the same time. I couldn’t begrudge his stoicism. If I’d received such confronting news, I would have switched off my feelings as well.

  The young man looked to his brothers, who sat awkwardly on the ground, attempting to cover their bodies with their hands. Before I could speak again, Callum rushed through the doorway the four goblin statues had been guarding.

  He returned moments later with cloaks and passed them to the boys. “Where is Anton?”

  I took a step and pressed my palm to Callum’s cheek. He flinched but did not pull away. Poor man. He had not been touched in nearly a hundred years. Though he might not remember exactly what’d happened, he would sense his isolation. He felt it.

  “I’m sorry. We…we didn’t know.”

  “He is here,” Amir said as he stepped aside, revealing their fallen brother. Anton. “It was me. I did this.”

  Callum’s younger brothers half ran, half crawled towards Anton’s body. One stopped a few feet short and fell back again, unable to close the distance entirely. The other gingerly touched his fingertips to Anton’s grey face. Callum looked on, stoic and still.

  After a few tortuously long moments, he spoke in a deadpan voice. “He’s dead.”

  Amir and I both nodded.

  By the goddess. If only I could change it. If only I could rewrite the rules of magic, drag Anton’s spirit back through the veil, and restore it to the lifeless vessel that now rested in a pool of its own blood. If I’d left them as goblins, they would have never realised what had happened. The time that had passed. The people they’d lost. They’d never have known Amir had killed their brother.

  Faster than I could register what happened, Callum lunged and slammed Amir into the ground. The younger twins shuffled farther away and looked on. Callum seemed unstoppable as his fists flew through the air, back and forth, hitting Amir, who tried to shield his face with his arms.

  “No!” I screamed as I ran. My feet fell out from under me, and I slid along the pebbles. My skin burned hot, my chest grew tight, and my lips dry. “Stop it!” I yelled from the ground. “I don’t want to hurt you, but…but I-I…” The two men in front of me blurred as I struggled to speak, to control my tongue, which felt as heavy as stone. “Amir…” My voice sounded wrong. Weak and hollow. My skin flushed hot again as the side of my face hit the ground. Everything went black.

  Chapter Five

  I’VE ALWAYS HATED dreams. They have a way of fooling us into think
ing we are something we are not. Safe. Not safe. Loved. Not loved. Whatever the case, dreams—unlike visions from and of the Other World—leave an acrid taste in my mouth. The courtyard fell away, and I was left only with illusion. Faces. Words. Feelings. My mother and father, their shock as I cast my first spell, a moment I couldn’t possibly remember. Red lying on a bed of silk, alive and corporeal. Amir in a library, lost in an ancient tome. These images (and others I found indecipherable) melted together like storm clouds.

  “Talia.” Amir’s voice sliced through the dreams and reminded me of where we were. What we were doing. I tried to open my eyes, but a searing pain shot through my head from ear to ear. Large hands prevented me from sitting up. “Slow down, caster,” my prince said.

  Someone pressed a cold, damp cloth to my forehead, cheeks, and neck. I delighted in the coolness, having not truly realised how hot my face felt until that moment. I licked my dry lips and swallowed the sandpaper texture that coated my throat. The stiffness in my fingers and toes faded as I wriggled and stretched them.

  By the goddess, what happened? My body felt as though every ounce of hydration had been siphoned from it, whilst a herd of mice had been pulling at my hair, making my scalp throb. The rigid tip of a flask touched my mouth, and I invited the water in. It was stale, but I didn’t care. It could have been mud and I would have accepted it, as long as there was some moisture to deliver to my shrivelled limbs.

  “Slow down, slow down.” Amir pressed his hand to my cheek as he spoke, and I forced myself to stop drinking before I drowned. The warmth of his touch was comforting, and for once, I didn’t wish it signified anything other than concern. “Do you want to try and sit up now?”

  I gave a heavy nod and tried once more to open my eyes. I did so more cautiously than before, prying them open gradually so I might better adjust to the influx of light, colour, and detail. After blinking away the hazy film that impaired my vision, I found myself inside a large, dust-ridden room, lying on a chaise, surrounded by young men. Had I been three times stronger, five years younger, and ten times more irresponsible, it might have even been a good position to find myself in. As it was, it felt awful.

  Amir knelt next to me and held my hand, his normally kind features distorted by worry. Behind him, the three brothers Rose paced about the chamber, each one looking through the glassless window as he passed it, as though someone or something might be upon us at any moment.

  “Can she move yet?” Callum stopped pacing to stand by Amir. He ran his hand back through his unkempt hair before folding his arms across his narrow chest.

  “Give her a moment,” Amir replied sternly, his eyes set on me. He’d changed his bloodstained shirt. I hoped that meant his wound had been cleaned and bandaged whilst I’d been asleep.

  “It’s been hours,” one of the younger brothers said. It was the first time I’d heard either of the other twins speak, and the deep tone of his voice surprised me, given the boyishness of his face.

  “I know!” Amir whipped around to face them, releasing my hand as he did. The absence of his touch was palpable. He sighed as though disappointed by his outburst. When he spoke again, he lowered his volume and softened his tone. “I know, Sebastian. We will be on our way soon.”

  The boy, Sebastian, huffed, walked to a nearby wall, and slid down it to fall into a defeated heap on the floor. A trail of cleared dust marked the movement of his back along the wall.

  It had been hours? I needed to get up. They needed me to get up. I swallowed again, braced my hands against the chaise, and pushed. I expected the movement to hurt more than it did, but instead of pain, there was only weakness, similar to the sensation after a particularly taxing spell. I breathed my way through the discomfort as I moved into a sitting position. Amir turned to me to help.

  “It’s fine. You don’t need to rush,” he told me.

  “It sounds like I do,” I croaked. “I’m fine.” Well, perhaps fine was too generous a description, but I was improving quickly.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I took another sip of water, emptying the flask. “The fog is clearing. What happened?” I held my hand to Amir’s chin. Though I tried to be gentle, he winced. His jaw was swollen, his lip cut. That’s right. He and Callum. They were fighting.

  “You were poisoned,” Sebastian said from his position on the floor.

  I touched my fingertips to my earlobe and instantly regretted it when a sharp bolt of heat shot through the side of my head. “The dart,” I said when the pain passed.

  Amir nodded.

  “I’m not dead, though. I imagine it was pegrarus.”

  “That’s what it smelled like.” Callum joined Amir and looked at me, his eyes empathetic. “I’m sorry I attacked your friend. After we found somewhere for you to rest, he explained what happened to my twin.” He sucked in a breath and hardened his face, trying to push down his grief. I couldn’t blame him. There was so much for him to process, much to mourn. Had I found myself in his position, I doubt I could have coped even half as well. “I know it couldn’t be helped.”

  I shook my head tentatively, partially due to a fear of setting off that horrid pain again, but also because the moment felt somehow sacred and fragile. “No. We had no idea who you were. If it helps at all, I can tell you that Anton crossed the veil in his true form. He knew who he was. Who you were.”

  Sebastian’s twin, whose name I still hadn’t learned, sat down next to Sebastian and took his hand in a gesture of comfort.

  Tears slid down Callum’s stubbled cheeks. “Thank you,” he murmured. “It isn’t your fault. It’s Tanit’s.”

  “Yes,” Amir spat as he looked heavenward. “Her curse is so much viler than people have believed all this time.” I could see he was hurting, my dear Amir. As he was both exhausted and exasperated, the reality of what we’d discovered in Oldpass clawed at his face like a rash. He’d taken the life of an innocent boy. He had probably thought I was going to die when I passed out. He still needed to find Aurora and, as his parents wished, marry her. His choleric tone was most certainly warranted.

  “I still can’t believe it’s been a hundred years,” Sebastian said, rubbing at his knee caps. “I don’t remember being a statue. I don’t remember attacking the two of you. Yet I feel weary somehow, like my bones know they’ve been frozen in place.”

  “Yes.” His twin stood as he spoke, eyebrows drawn together in dismay. He held his hand out to Sebastian and dragged his brother to his feet.

  “We need to keep ourselves together, Elias. We still have each other,” Callum soothed. He had the confidence of a young man who knew he’d be a trusted royal adviser—perhaps even a king—one day. He seemed to accept responsibility without hesitation.

  I looked to Elias. I finally knew the third brother’s name. Third brother. When he should have been the fourth. How could I have not seen who they really were from the moment their stony skin flaked away? I should have. It was my fault. The dead boy. Amir’s injuries. The crestfallen weight hanging upon their backs. My failure as a caster had brought it all to pass.

  “We lost Anton,” Callum said, “but we don’t have to lose Aurora. Or anyone else in our kingdom, for that matter. They’re all still here. Somewhere.” As the eldest brother spoke, Amir guided me to my feet, and Elias handed me another flask of water. I thanked them both wordlessly. “You two believe she is in the north tower?”

  “You seemed to wake when we got closer to the north wing entrance,” Amir replied. “I think it reasonable to assume you—the goblins, rather—were placed there as guards.”

  “I agree.” Callum looked to his brothers. “Our sister needs us.”

  “Then let’s go!” Elias’s face reddened as he barrelled toward the door. I couldn’t help but smile softly. The genuine love and concern radiating from his soft features touched me. Surely, it was a sign Aurora must be a good person, that she could be worthy of Amir. Did I want her to be? Would it be easier if she were unkind? Or unintelligent?

 
; Sebastian and Callum wasted no time in following Elias as he disappeared through the doorway and into a dark passage. Amir slipped one arm around my waist as an offer of support, but I shook my head. My strength returned to me quickly, and I needed to distance myself from him as much as possible. Each step closer to the princess pushed him ever further out of my reach. I was surprised to find the thought a degree less painful than the last time I’d lingered on it, though I still felt I was headed in the right direction, finding my destined path. Was I finally accepting the situation for what it was? Or was something else going on?

  “Don’t go that way.” Red’s voice tickled the back of my neck like a benign spider. “They must find another route.”

  “Where are you?” I said. Amir looked at me, confused. “She’s here. My friend. My guide. Red…why can’t I see you?”

  “Something holds me.” Her voice was quieter, the distance between us increasing. “I can’t stay.”

  I wanted to chase her, to find her, to see her sterling-green eyes and know for certain she was all right. But I knew she wasn’t. Something was pulling her away. I could sense it, an icy chill tracing its way down my spine. It had hurt her to reach out and speak to me. I couldn’t be sure how I knew, but I did.

  “What did she say?” Amir asked as he stepped through the doorway, his dark tunic and leggings swallowed up by the dankness of the corridor.

  “Don’t,” I blurted. “She said not to go that way. Stop!”

  A thunderous growl echoed all around us. A tormented beast’s yowl shot through me like electricity. What had those boys rushed into?

  “We have to help them,” Amir shouted as he ran toward the sound. It was like nothing I’d ever heard before: guttural and deep, yet piercing at the same time. The animal making that noise could not have been of this world. I dropped the flask Elias had handed me as I raced after Amir. It made no noise as it hit the ground. There was no sound to be heard but the creature’s wails.

  Mould and damp accosted my nostrils and the back of my throat as I chased after the four princes. My heart raced and my chest ached at the exertion I wasn’t truly recovered enough to cope with. I nearly lost my footing on a smooth stone and braced against the wall before continuing on.