Bastien bowed, one hand over his heart. “May they rest in peace.”
Jovi disagreed, not about them resting in peace, but about the place they had been buried. Bad, terrible things had happened here. People had died and Belisandre had been kidnapped. To Jovi, this place was tainted. The beautiful scenery could never erase the things that had happened here.
But, she didn’t speak her fears and instead kept them buried deep inside. Her uncle didn’t need to hear any of that and neither did Bastien. Not when they had lost two of their closest friends.
Meical touched her shoulder, which made her jump. “Niece, are you ready to make the cure we need to end this thing?”
Jovi nodded. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“Then, follow me and we’ll get started.” He tucked his arm around her and helped her walk.
Meical stopped to grab the bag he’d stored all the ingredients in and pulled the recipe from the pocket, carrying them both inside the cabin. Jovi, Bastien, and Cappa all followed him, and they cleaned some of the broken glass off the floor and scooted the debris so they could walk.
Even though the cabinets were a mess, the stove hadn’t been touched, so they lit the wood inside to heat the oven. A black pot laid on the ground by Jovi’s feet; she picked it up and placed it on top, then waited.
“Okay. Let’s see. The recipe is very specific,” Meical said as he held the paper in front of him. “Jovi, grab the milk of a nursing fairy and dump it in the pot.”
Jovi found the milk and poured it in.
“Next, add stone Giant tears and water from the fountain in Delphinium Woods.”
Jovi added both. “What’s next?”
“We wait. It has to boil before we can add the ground mammoth bone.”
Jovi focused on the liquid in the pot. No bubbles yet. She waited, watched, tapping her foot on the floor. She leaned back against the counter and then peeked again.
Finally, bubbles started rising to the top of the liquid. She waited a couple more minutes until the sounds of a rapid boil indicated the time had come, then she tipped the ground mammoth bone into the mix. “Okay, now what?”
This would be a lot easier if he would have just let me hold the recipe, she muttered to herself
Meical eyed the paper and squinted. “The liquid needs to turn milky white then we can add the mushrooms.” Meical peered into the pot. “Wait, it’s already milky white. Quick, throw them in!”
Jovi and Meical gathered up the mushrooms and tossed them into the pot.
Meical smiled. “Okay, now we wait and let it boil until it is deep purple. Dark blue is bad.”
Jovi nodded as she crossed her arms over her stomach. Then, she realized the sun was mostly gone and it wrapped the inside of the cabin with darkness. She grabbed a candle and lit the flame, then held it over the pot.
They stood there for what seemed like forever, the potion stayed milky as it continued to boil, at least until the mushrooms disintegrated. Then the liquid steamed, groaned, and turned deep purple.
Meical, with his bare hands, grabbed the pot and took it from the flame as Jovi set the candle on the counter. The cabinets above the stove were untouched, so Jovi fiddled through them, and found some containers. They dumped all the potion in and sealed them with flimsy lids she hoped would hold until they made it to the castle.
From her calculations, they had less than twenty-four hours to make it in time. Scooping up the containers, she piled them into the bag and stacked them so they wouldn’t spill. She would carry it herself, on her lap. No need to risk a spilled container.
“Well, now that’s done. We can take this to the castle and get the Frost Mages out of here, save your parents and everything will go back to normal.” Meical’s sad eyes met hers.
She could guess what he thought. Going back to normal meant he would no longer be part of her life.
She placed the bag down on the counter, and took his hand in her own. “Uncle, things were never normal. Part of us has been missing. And that part was you. My father will realize it too, but even if he doesn’t, I have no intentions of never seeing you again. You’ve come to mean so much to me.”
Meical wrapped his arms around her and squeezed so hard she thought her insides might pop out. “I’m so glad to hear you say that.”
“I’m glad you’re glad, but—uh—I can’t breathe.” Her voice broke.
He loosened his grip, took a few deep breaths, and then released her. A pleased smile covered his face and reached his eyes. “Sorry about that, but…you don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that, to hear someone say that.”
A realization struck her. Uncle Meical was just like everyone else. He wanted to be loved and accepted. He wanted to be part of a family. She’d make sure he received all of that, and more.
Never would he feel alone again.
Jovi picked the bag back up. “Okay, well, the faster we get this to the Mages, the faster I can tell Father that you’re staying, that your warriors are moving in and will be our new guards.”
Every feature on his face brightened. “Really?”
She gave a firm nod. “Absolutely.”
He hugged her once more, this time for much shorter, and she returned the embrace. “We don’t need to rush, though. We need sleep before we go into the den of the beast, so to speak. We will stay and get some rest before we leave for the castle.”
Jovi couldn’t help it, she stomped her foot. “No. We are almost done with this. We need to end it now.”
“We will end it once we have our wits about us. None of us can fight well right now. Not when we are barely able to keep our eyes open.” Meical pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry, but there is no negotiating this. We rest first.”
Jovi sighed, long and hard, but spun around and followed her “orders.”
When she woke, she was in the tiny cabin alone.
Cappa, Bastien, and Meical must have disappeared outside, probably to get some fresh air. The sour, potent smell from the potion still lingered in the air, and even outside, Jovi felt it would stick with her, encircling her, caked inside her nostrils.
The price to pay for freedom.
With a smile, Jovi limped outside into the crisp morning air. Her ankle had stopped hurting as much, but soreness still shot through it when she put her full weight down. She managed to climb Horn, straddling him. When she’d settled, she placed the bag between her legs, and rested against her uncle’s back for protection. No way would she let anything happen to this cure.
Sunshine wrapped them in a warm blanket as they began the short journey to the castle.
Guards still lined the walls surrounding Kingsperch when Jovi hopped off Horn and stood in front of the gate. The brown bag that held the cure, the hope for her parents and for the Frost Mages, hung on her chest with the straps hunkered over her arms backwards. Even still, she secured it further by swathing her arms around it, as if she held on to a baby growing inside her stomach.
Not that she wanted that right now. Or ever…
She took a few hobbled steps toward the closed gate.
“Halt. Who goes there,” one of the guards asked.
“It is Princess Jovi.” She pasted a smile on her face when she looked him over. He didn’t look like a usual guard, but he wore the King’s armor as if he were. “I’m not sure we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”
He smirked, making his pale skin almost glitter in the light of the bright sun. “Smart. I never took you for a smart one. But, alas, you are correct. We have not met. Although, I’ve seen you, sitting on your inconsequential throne next to your father when my King begged for his help.”
Ah. A Frost Mage, she assumed.
“Well, I’ve righted my father’s wrong today. I hold the cure in this bag.” She jiggled it, but only enough to point his attention to the bag she carried. “If you’ll let me and my group in, we will take the cure to your King and end this.”
A clanking sounded as the gates shifte
d, looking ready to swallow her whole as they opened. She gulped, but raised her chin. With a deep breath, she took calculated steps through the door, mindful of her hurt ankle. Cappa’s heat drifted through her skin as he came up behind her. Meical and Bastien were right behind them, tugging their mammoths along.
To be honest, it surprised Jovi that they’d let the Mammoth Riders in, although she wouldn’t complain. Anxiety pulsed through her chest and constricted her throat, but the feelings lessened with her friends, family even, by her side. Perhaps if she made it out of this alive, then everything would be righted by the time the sun set.
For some reason, her stomach flopped at the thought. She had another bad feeling. She’d had a ton of these along this journey, so perhaps it wouldn’t lead to anything worse than she’d already seen.
Fire Mages, death, and a kidnapped sorceress, sure, they were all horrible things that had happened, but she wouldn’t have traded this journey for anything. She’d seen Central Orendor as it was meant to be seen, in all its splendor. She’d met the people and creatures that resided within along the way, like Fairies and Kobolds and Giant children. She’d seen the stone Giant and the tears flowing freely from his unblinking eyes.
So much she’d missed out on, being imprisoned inside the castle, she now had seen. And now she’d come full circle, back to her home, her jail. The place she loved most and hated more than anything all at the same time.
Regardless of how she felt, she followed the Frost Mage as he led her through the village. The dirt slipped under her boots, but she paid no attention, only stared at the shops that had lined the street. All were vacant. An eerie quiet had settled over the town. No one sold anything, and no one stood at the shops looking to buy either.
Where did everyone go? Did they kill them? Or did they get away? she wondered.
Her heart thumped so hard she felt it in her temples.
Her eyes fell on a familiar table that was empty now, but she raised one hand to encircle her necklace. The one the shopkeeper had given her and told her was magical.
But no magic pulsed within the pink jewel, even though the Fairies had told her different. Magic had to have a keeper and a necklace could never be that. Sure, it was pretty, but it held nothing inside. She let it go and held on to her bag once more. It thunked against her chest, as if angry for her thoughts.
Or perhaps my imagination is running away from me, Jovi chided herself.
The dirt road disappeared as red and gray bricks stretched to the castle. The smell of baking bread and stones smacked her in the face and made her feel like she was home. It was all so familiar, the sounds, the smells. Although, now, it also hinted of distance and something foreign. Perhaps it stemmed from the frost lining the outside walls, or maybe from the smell of the ice, clear and cold, that struck her lungs.
“We will tie the mammoths here.” Meical pointed to a post right where the dirt road had met the brick walkway. “But know this, if anything happens to them, I’ll know who to blame.”
The Mage stopped and his long, bitter blue hair swayed over his shoulders. “We would not harm your animals.”
Jovi wished she could roll her eyes. Good to know that even if these people might hurt us, they won’t harm the mammoths, she thought.
But, Jovi had a feeling, if it had been any other animal, they wouldn’t care one bit about them. Mammoths were rare, and Meical controlled them all, as far as Jovi knew. She bet a lot of people would die to get their hands on one, but if they tried to take on the most feared warriors in the land, dying would be the best thing to happen to them.
The Frost Mage led her not to the main gate, but to a side door instead. He stepped aside and held his arm out in a gesture for her to pass.
She bowed. “Thank you.” As she grabbed the handle, coldness seeped to her palm and she yanked it back as she rubbed her hand down the side of her pant leg to warm it. “What did you people do to the castle?”
The Mage chuckled and his wintergreen eyes glowed. “Made it a little homier.”
Cappa pushed his way in front of Jovi when she tried to reach for the door again, covering his hand with his shirt as he held it open. “After you, milady.”
She mouthed the words “thank you” and stepped inside. Meical and Bastien came next, followed by Cappa and the Frost Mage, who’d been the only one who had spoken to them.
Her boots skidded across the icy floors as she passed Frost Mages at every turn. An ache settled in her ankle. She’d all but forgotten about her injury, but it hadn’t hurt at all until now. Maybe it hadn’t been as bad as Meical had thought at first.
The Mage took her elbow as she slid around a turn and stabilized her. “Careful, Princess. The floors are slick. We can’t control where our ice grows. It is our defense and when we feel threatened, it notices and launches.”
Jovi nodded. “Noted.”
His frosty touch made her skin crawl, but she clenched her jaw and let him help her, while she wrapped her other arm tighter around the bag. Every step shook the contents of the containers and the liquid jostled so much she stopped, as if rooted in place by an unknown force. She couldn’t risk a spill, no matter what. Too much time and energy had been invested in this mission. Too much hope. If something happened now, after all this, and her parents died…she’d never forgive herself.
Never.
The Mage took her to the throne room. As she entered, her eyes landed on her father, who was tied to his throne. Her mother sat beside him, strapped to her seat as well. Both their eyes widened when they saw her, and even though she didn’t see their mouths open, she could tell they wanted to speak to her. Instead, they pressed their lips together in a tight line.
Her fingers curled and her nails bit into her palms, but she kept them around the bag. Seeing her parents like this, she knew what they must have gone through. It sickened her to the point she tasted something sour at the back of her throat.
The only thing that stopped her from lashing out was the fact that this ended today.
A clap peeled her eyes from her parents. Malador stepped in front of her—from where she had no idea since she hadn’t paid attention.
His gaze fell to the brown bag against her stomach. “What do we have here?”
The Mage who’d brought her here jutted his chin out. “The Princess has returned and held up her end of the bargain.”
Malador covered his mouth with his hand. Several seconds passed and he said nothing, which caused Jovi to shift her weight. His scrutinizing stare didn’t leave her the whole time, until finally, he dropped his hand. “I suppose we’ll see if she succeeded with her part or not. Give me the cure.”
Jovi unstrapped the bag from her, and instead of placing it in his outstretched hand, she laid it gently between them. “It’s all yours. I’ll be happy to be rid of it.”
Malador crouched down, unzipped the bag, and removed the clear containers. He took in the purple liquid that laid inside. “Hmm. Looks interesting enough.” He set the container on one of the benches behind him, then his gaze met the Mage’s who’d directed her here. “Zander. Go. Bring the women here. We will see just how well this cure works, here and now, while our guests remain. And if it doesn’t work, then…” He sliced a finger across his throat.
Could he be any more dramatic? Jovi snarkily thought.
She scoffed. “How, exactly, will you know if it works? Unless you magically have a way to sense the exact moment a woman becomes pregnant.”
Malador glared at her. “Our magic isn’t only defensive and offensive. It has protections built within, as well. And a part of the protection is the ability to sense if our women are carrying a child, which then gives us the ability to keep them safe while they are.” The sarcasm drumming through her head helped her keep her wits, but inside his words crumbled her heart, her stomach, and everything else. Of course they had the ability to know if their women were pregnant. They were walking doctors who never had to perform the exam. Jovi didn’t know how she hadn’t guesse
d any of this.
Finally, the moment of truth had arrived. The sorceress had given her the recipe, though. She hadn’t been there to make the potion herself, but the instructions had been detailed, and Jovi and her uncle had followed them to a tee. Everything would work and when it did, this would be over.
Or she would die.
Either way, it still ended today, one way or another.
Jovi glanced at the doorway as a group of women entered. They all looked different, some with long hair, some with short, some heavy, and some so thin she could see the bones of their face. But they all had one thing in common. They were pale with hair colors dulled to an icy haze.
She clutched her hands in front of herself and attempted to bounce from one foot to the other, but the movement made her feel her injury so she stopped. Cappa took her hand in his and exuded his calmness into her. She met his eyes.
He smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Meical hovered behind her and leaned down toward her ear. “So, I don’t think your father is happy to see me.”
Jovi peered over her shoulder. “Why do you say that?”
Meical pointed with his forehead. “Just look at him.”
King Ryan glared past Jovi, although she hadn’t been sure he stared at her uncle. Frost Mages surrounded them. It seemed every one of them had filed into the room now that the show was about to start.
“He might not be looking at you.” Jovi spoke over her shoulder. She couldn’t meet Meical’s eyes, not when she had a feeling she might be lying. Not intentionally, but a lie was a lie all the same.
Meical came around and stood in front of her. He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows.
Jovi looked away. He might be right. The King might not be happy to see Meical, but the father in him had to be. A part of him had to know the only reason she still stood here, alive and unharmed, was because of the help Meical had given her.
Land of Strength and Sorrow Page 19
