“No,” said Bloom. “You saved only yourself! Back in the clearing, you left me for dead! I know all too well how much you value life. You didn’t let me fight the wolf because you knew that I would win.”
“Too clever for your own good!” smiled Maddy. “My friends say you’re a wizard.”
“Your spies,” corrected Bloom.
She looked closer at his face. “Where did you get those markings?” she asked, suddenly frightened. “You did not have them when I left you.” She leaned toward him, her eyes racing across his face as she hovered before him.
“I made a friend who gifted them to me,” said Bloom carefully.
Maddy Alamore looked as if she may cry. “It cannot be…” she whispered. “You cannot have it! No! I won’t allow it!” Voices could be heard murmuring in the space around them. “Kill him!” commanded Maddy to the mist, grinding her ghostly teeth together. The mist obediently moved in on the wizard.
“You leave me be!” said Bloom, “For I could cross you over without the aid of magic, since I remember well Henry’s last words to you! I need but utter them, and you would vanish as though you never were!”
Her eyes growing wide, Maddy disappeared into thin air with a pop. The mist around Bloom drew back, recoiling from his last words.
Bloom found himself alone again. He breathed in the air, and felt his head clear as the mist withdrew. From somewhere nearby, he heard a bird singing for the first time in months. Bloom searched the branches of the tree above him, until he spotted a little gray and white bird with a small orange beak. He whistled, imitating the birdcall he had heard. The little bird looked at him, cocking its head to one side. His palms lighting up, Bloom quickly spoke a simple incantation, and the bird fluttered to a new branch a few yards away. “Take me home,” said Bloom. Before following his tiny winged guide, the wizard knelt to the ground and took a handful of soil. He whispered to it as if making an agreement, and then let it slowly crumble through his fingers. When he rose once more and moved on through the woods, the footprints that he left behind began to slowly swell, refilling perfectly with leaves, plants, and soil until there was no trace of which direction he had gone.
Chapter 41
Accused
Amelliea got out of bed and quickly bathed, peeking several times into her bedroom. She worried that the Prince would use the trap door once again, but he did not. Although she missed him, she dreaded seeing him again, for after refusing his proposal she did not know if he still saw her as a friend. Amelliea dressed, and brushed out her hair. It was still wet and dripping on her dress when she heard a ding announcing the arrival of a letter. Her blood went cold. Was this a letter from Galvan? Did he dislike her so much now that he no longer wished to see her, or speak with her in person? She went to the letterbox. Inside was a folded piece of parchment tied with silver ribbons at both ends and sealed with red wax. The seal was stamped with a foreign-looking royal imprint and was addressed to Amelliea Leonora Bravenheart. The girl loosened the ribbons and unfolded the letter. To her surprise, the letter was not from Galvan at all. Instead, it was an invitation from the Citrulene region. The slanted calligraphy on the parchment read:
Queen Eleanor of the Citrulene region does hereby cordially invite Amelliea Leonora Bravenheart to participate in a renowned tournament. Only a select few warriors are chosen to compete for the title of victor as well a grand prize of the Citrulene Heart, a stone worth more than all the gold in the Citrulene kingdom. The tournament is to commence on the seventh day after the winter solstice. The competition is fierce, and the Queen and her court urge any and all warriors who have been deemed worthy of the upcoming challenge to carefully consider whether or not they truly wish to participate. Queen Eleanor can neither guaranty warriors their safety, nor promise that they will survive the contest. Looking forward to witnessing your fine-tuned skills and talents in the arena.
Signed, Edgar M. Danson,
—Senior Talent Scout and Combat Expert—
Amelliea was confused, but excited. The Citrulene region was the next location she and her father aimed to visit. The competition was likely to overlap with their stay, and Amelliea wondered with a rush of excitement if her father would permit her to compete. She was, after all, in the best shape of her life! If not now then when? Amelliea sat back on the sofa, and let her hand fall on the seat next to her. What if she won? No, she would not win, she was not that good, but it would be an honor even to compete! Surely she was good enough to at least stay alive, reasoned Amelliea.
There was a knock at the door. “Just a minute,” called Amelliea, rushing to unlock it. Galvan stood in the hallway. He would not meet her gaze. “Galvan? What’s wrong?” asked Amelliea. Another hand pulled the door the rest of the way open. It was the King. He moved past Galvan and Amelliea into the chamber followed by two of his guards.
“It has come to my attention that you have become rather disenchanted with my hospitality,” the King said coldly.
“Your Royal Highness,” said Amelliea with a deep curtsy, “In no way is this the truth.”
“It is no good? The food, the training, the lodging?” shouted the King, knocking down a vase from the table to make his point. The beautiful stone vase was one of Amelliea’s favorites, and it was carved so finely that one could see daylight shine right through its pink and white marbled walls. It smashed on the floor with a loud crash. “Never in all my years have I met so ungrateful a child!”
“What in Windiffera would give you this impression?” asked Amelliea in astonishment, backing away. Her heart raced in her chest. She looked at Galvan in confusion. The Prince remained standing in the doorframe without entering the room. His face was grim. “What did you tell him?” asked Amelliea.
“The truth! He told me the truth!” shouted the King.
“Yet all these things are nothing I have said!” cried Amelliea.
The King shook his head. “You play a dangerous game, my little minx,” he said.
“What game?” asked Amelliea. “Never in all my life have I been more grateful for such generous hospitality as I have received here in the Gator—”
“Your lies don’t fool me any longer!” interrupted the King. “Take her to the dungeon!”
The guards moved in on Amelliea. “No!” she yelled, pushing them back. “What is all this about? Galvan stop them!”
“I can’t,” said the Prince helplessly, as the guards came at her again.
“I don’t understand, is this about the proposal?” she asked.
Everyone froze.
“What proposal?” asked the King, his eyes as sharp as lightning.
“Your son proposed to me last night,” said Amelliea.
“Did he?” asked the King, shooting his son an angry glance. “As if I would permit such an arrangement!”
“Well, the marriage is not to be,” said Amelliea.
“You mean to say that you refused?” demanded the King. He laughed cruelly, “Oh that is too much! You’ve cost me three of my prized gators, an enchanted mirror, my favorite portrait of my great uncle Gelden, and the moral of my entire court, but no—that’s not enough for you! Even the hand of the Prince himself is not enough to satisfy your lavish tastes!”
“You’ve got it all wrong!” cried Amelliea. “It would be more than enough, and I do love him true!”
“Then why did you refuse?” demanded the King.
“You only just found out of the proposal, did you not? What do you care for reasons if it is a union you were certain to forbid?” asked Amelliea, realizing that she was being provoked. “And since when is a fictitious ungratefulness reason enough to justify imprisonment? You don’t even accuse me in words Galvan would have used! I don’t believe he said these horrid things about me in my absence.”
“You dare call me a liar?” roared the King. “You shall not speak this way with me again, for I will not forgive it twice! ”
“Then take me to your dungeon, and find out how my father will react when
he learns of my whereabouts!” shouted Amelliea, letting the guards bind her.
“Amelliea, it is not time for threats, since you may well be dead long before he gets here,” said the King coolly.
“If he finds me dead, I do not envy the punishment you shall then face.”
The King stepped closer to her. “And why is that? Is it because your father is a wizard?”
“It is because he has a well developed sense of justice!” said Amelliea.
“Let us not play these foolish games. I know you understand more than you say. Pray, tell me why you broke the mirror?”
“It was an accident,” said Amelliea. “I will replace it. Please—let me go!”
“I cannot risk you foiling my plans,” said the King. “Take her down,” he told the guards.”
“Father, no!” shouted Galvan. “I cannot let you do this.” He barred the door.
“You disappoint me Galvan,” said the King, pushing past him. “You are as loyal as a rat!” Amelliea was led from the room. She was chained around the waist and shoulders. She looked at Galvan as she passed him. His green eyes wore the expression of intense suffering.
A watchman passing in the hallway saw Amelliea wearing the chains. “Why is she chained?” he asked. “There must be some kind of mistake, I’m certain she is innocent, for no one has a heart more pure!”
“You see?” said the King to his guards, “You see how she affects my staff? Take her away, and make it quick!”
Amelliea was escorted to the damp basement of the palace. She did not try to run, knowing she had to work out a plan that included her father. The guards unchained her before locking her in one of the empty, dirty cells. Amelliea stood in the dark for a moment before sinking down in one of the dark corners, and hiding her face in her skirt.
Chapter 42
Return of the Wizard
Bloom saw the Gator canyon up ahead. He waved his hand and the little bird he had been following flew off, released of its charm. The wizard proceeded cautiously. Seeing that there was no way around the guards up ahead, he sighed and cast yet another spell, this time upon himself. It was a masking spell to make himself appear as a trusted and familiar friend to any person who saw him. The down side of this charm was that everyone would view him as someone different, and this could lead to trouble rather quickly. Bloom decided to chance it. He put away the new crolackrolite stone he had made, and walked up to the pair of guards standing at the entrance of the long stairway that led down to the Gator city.
“Hello there!” waved one of the guards with a smile. “What brings you to these parts, my friend?”
“Business as usual,” replied Bloom.
The guard snorted, “I’m sure it’s really urgent!” He winked, “Welcome back!”
“Um—thank you,” said Bloom.
The second guard unexpectedly smacked the wizard on the back with the palm of his hand, making Bloom trip forward. “It’s good to see you, brother! Be sure to stop by my house before you leave town. My wife will bake for you your favorite pie!”
“You are too kind,” muttered Bloom with a bow, and hurried past them. “Its—ah—great to see you again!” he said vaguely, not making it clear whom he was addressing. Both of the men waved goodbye to him.
“How do you know him?” one of the guards asked the other.
Bloom clenched his teeth, nervous he would be discovered. He rushed down the steps that led down into the canyon as quickly as he could.
The second guard shrugged. “I’ve known him forever.” This seemed to satisfy the first guard and the two men turned back around to face the desert once more.
Bloom rushed down the many steps until he found himself down in the busy street below.
“Good morning, stone mason,” smiled a man pushing a vegetable cart. Bloom responded with a cheerful wave. Everywhere the wizard looked, people were glad to see him as though he were the most popular person in town. They took of their hats, bowing, waving, and smiling at him. Bloom reminded himself to keep moving and not linger in any one place for very long to keep them from figuring out that their impressions of him did not match.
“Garry, however have you been?” said a woman holding a bushel of flowers. She blushed. “Its been so long since we last spoke. Here, have a gardenia, I know how much you love them.”
“Thank you my darling,” said Bloom, playing along and accepting the flower. The woman sighed and watched him leave with longing.
“Gordon, hey—over here!” yelled the baker.
It took Bloom a moment to realize he was the one being addressed.
“I’m here you fool, surely you would not forget your old teacher!” said the man, his apron dusted in flour.
“Never in a million years!” cried Bloom, fondly embracing him. Suddenly, three people moved in on Bloom simultaneously, surrounding him from all sides.
“Gaston, how are you old chap?” laughed a man with a sword strapped across his back.
“Gaston? No-no, you must have him confused for someone else! This is my uncle Gideon,” said a young lady dressed in a lacy green dress.
“Whatever do you mean?” demanded a woman in her mid thirties standing beside Bloom. “He is none other than Gondorean, my brother in law!”
More people rushed in from all sides. “Galloway! Gilson! Gregory!” they called to him, all reaching out to shake his hand or pat his back.
“So good to see you all!” shouted Bloom, “I’m in an awful hurry, do pardon my rush!” He pushed through the mob, and ran down the street as fast as his legs could carry him.
“Is it you, Gandy?” said a woman, dropping a platter of fruit as he passed and pressing her hands to her cheeks.
“Of course it is!” said Bloom as he hurried past.
“Grendon, I beg you to stop in for a visit!” said an old man, coming out of his shop and leaning on his cane.
“I will if time permits it,” said Bloom running passed him. The palace was only a short distance away. The street grew less busy, and Bloom slowed to a brisk walk.
“Good morning Gra—” said one of the guards at the palace gate.
“Its wonderful to see you!” Bloom interrupted before the man could speak the name.
“Come right this way, we are expecting you,” said another guard from across the way, gesturing to the palace.
Bloom stepped into the great hall just as a troop of soldiers marched passed him. Each of the ironclad men nodded to the wizard, respectfully acknowledging his presence.
Bloom hurried to the guest chambers.
“Your Royal Highness,” bowed the bishop as he passed Bloom in the hall. Bloom nodded to the man and turned into the next crossing corridor. Flooded with relief, he came upon the familiar door of Amelliea’s chambers. He knocked and the maid opened a door.
“Amelliea my dear, why do you knock? There is no need for this, my sweet. You’re too polite! I have already packed your things for you,” she clucked, indicating to the bulging pack laying on the sofa.
“Thank you kindly,” said Bloom, shouldering the pack. It was substantially heavier than he remembered.
The woman leaned in, “Are you quite well?” she asked, studying Bloom’s face. “I heard the King did throw you in the dungeon, though I cannot imagine why!”
“The dungeon?” asked Bloom in alarm.
“Why yes!” said the woman in confusion. She paused and put her hand over her heart, “I’m just relieved to see you are alright.”
“Goodbye dear friend,” said Bloom. “Thank you for all your kindness.”
The maid began to tear up, and waved Bloom away with a handkerchief. Bloom left the room and ran through the hallway once more, but he did not get far before he was stopped by a passing officer.
“Why are you not on duty?” demanded the man sternly, grabbing Bloom by the forearm.
“Well—um, I was just—” began Bloom.
“I’m only kidding,” laughed the man. “Come on, Grayson, I’ll walk you back to your post.
” Bloom followed the man, praying no one else would see them. They descended into the basement. “You have to respect a man who can hold his own in a fight like you can,” said the officer. “You sneaky devil, you!” he chuckled, and elbowed Bloom in the ribs. “I never would have guessed that you had so much fight in you, I owe you no less than my life!”
“It was nothing,” said Bloom bashfully. “Nothing you wouldn’t have done for me.”
“Well, can I buy you a drink sometime?” asked the man with a flirtatious smile.
“Absolutely,” said Bloom.
“Okay then. You’re over there, soldier.” The officer indicated to one of the cells along the left wall.
Bloom nodded and went on into the damp corridor of jail cells. Most of the cells had several dirty, hungry-looking people inside them. The prisoners entertained themselves with various activities, ranging from staring blankly ahead, ticking notches in the wall to keep track of time, or scraping at their shackles with a sharpened stone. The wizard spotted Amelliea in a dark cell by herself. The girl was slumped into a corner.
“Pssst!” whispered Bloom.
She looked up, “Galvan?” she asked, rising and running to the gate.
Bloom dispelled the charm, and Amelliea inhaled sharply as she recognized her father. She reached out to him, embracing him right through the bars.
“I’m so relieved!” she whispered. “But what happened to your face?” she asked, upon noticing the blue markings.
Bloom motioned for her to stay quiet, “I will explain all in due time.” He whispered a spell and the bars quickly turned to rubber. Bloom held them apart for Amelliea to pass through, and when he let go, they jiggled back into place, looking just as they had before. Amelliea plucked one of the bars, like the string of a harp, and it wobbled this way and that before growing still once more.
“We could have picked the lock,” protested Amelliea, not wanting her father to use magic on her behalf.
“There wasn’t time,” whispered Bloom. “I have your things,” he told her, “and I have stashed my own belongings not far outside the city.”
The Curse (The Windore Series Book 2) Page 26
