NeverSleep

by Brindi Quinn

  I am startled by his claim. When speaking to Awyer, Pedj made his upbringing in the Bloődite Rusticlands sound enjoyable. Was it nothing more than showboating?

  “Anyhoop, my days as a kipper was nothin’ more than being reminded of how much weaker than Mael I was. Guess that’s why when I got the letter from her on the wind, tellin’ me she was at Secret Mountain, it was finally my chance to be stronger than her. Then that turned out to be sham, too. So I offered to go with Awyer to save the world, thinkin’ I’d have my chance to do somethin’ what wasn’t planned. Can see how great that turned out. Guess there really is no escapin’ fate, eh? – Then the sleepness came and everythin’ changed. Been unsure what to do ever since.” At the end of his tale, the ex-zombie gives off one impressive sigh.

  I did not know. For Pedj, our journey has had meaning. All the time, I have thought of him at most as a companion to Awyer and at least, a pawn, and for that, I have underestimated his depth. Suddenly, I am all the more grateful for his desire to become my confidant – a desire that has seemingly passed in lieu of my domineering nature.

  “I am sorry, Pedj, that I did not think to understand you.”

  Through the whole of the Bloődite’s story, Feligo has listened with grace, showing concern at the appropriate moments. For all of his flaws, he is just. “Knaves!” he cries. “If you were born an Azurian, you would never have been forced into magick! Our laws spare the ungifted from its influence!”

  “Yes, your kind only forces its talented into premature use of magicks,” I say, thinking of Techton’s tortured upbringing.

  Pedj does not hear my comment, but he hears Feligo’s, and he does not react with favor to being labeled ‘ungifted’.

  “Now that you’ve heard all that, I’ll tell you just what my family’s book says, and we can decide what to do from there.” So he suggests, but his eyes dart about with anxiety. “Keep in mind that you need me, Mistress, to get on carryin’ Awyer. Think about that before you suggest we go on a-marchin’ to my death.”

  His . . . death?

  “Tell us,” says the Maestro. “I may be sworn to protect the people of Azurian, but I will not let any civilian be cast into fire! Not on my watch!”

  “Not what you said back in the Rusticlands,” Pedj mutters under his breath. His disdain over Feligo’s prior crusade against his people has not entirely faded. “Aaaaanyhoop,” Pedj changes gears. “You still there, Grim?”

  I bob my shadow, but in the coming of black night, it is nearly lost. When darkness falls, I really will be nothing.

  Pedj takes a breath, deep and slow. And then he takes another. Only after the third breath does he continue, “This is what my family’s purpose is, accordin’ to the ancient Amethyst necromancers:

  ‘In the days of Bloőd,

  The boy and his felion will surpass the colors.

  The boy will be filled with sun.

  And the felion, upon seeing his might,

  Will follow him, o’er the course of days.

  He will be her quarry, and she will be his pain.

  With his sacrifice, the draggar will rise,

  And the felion, birthed in sun,

  Will be Queen of the colorless age.’”

  Pedj ends his tale with a flinch, and as Feligo begins to barrage him with questions, I float away to a space clear of distraction.

  Mael will . . . kill Pedj? Then how has he stayed in proximity with her all of this time?! And what is a . . . a draggar? Beast, being, spell? The word alone makes me shiver. Nay, it makes me do more than shiver. Deeply, my stomach drops. The very taste of the word is alarming.

  I am quick to push it from thought.

  And while I am intrigued over the lesser part of the prophecy, I am struck by its end: The colorless age.

  I have thought on it long and hard, and unless this world is somehow rid of Void and Gold completely, you will remain as you are until death.

  The words I spoke to Techton – never did I think them possible! I believed that we would find a way to restore the world, but I did not foresee a way to rid the world of color completely! True, without Gold, Awyer would awaken, and without Void, Techton would be cured. But what of the Mother Colors, Bloőd and Azure? And what of their daughter, Amethyst? Can a world function without enchants? Can people and mythics advance without the usage of magicks? This prophecy of Pedj’s – the possibility is great that it is the same prophecy my resting pactor spoke of. Awyer instructed me to take them to a place he had never been.

  If I take Pedj to Yel’ram, what will we find?

  Pedj is most likely thinking on the same thing. I understand now why he presented me with a disclaimer before disclosing. I will stop at nothing to awaken Awyer, and the zombie has just offered me something in the way of a solution. It lines up with what Ark said. It lines up with what Awyer said. Now, more than ever, I know that I must take the necromancers to Yel’ram if I hope to awaken my pactor.

  But in a colorless world, will my pact with Awyer be broken? If he is no longer able to see me, to hear me, to touch me, then it will all be for naught! Without a supply of power, I will fade! Or . . . will I only ‘drift’, as Ark claimed?

  When did it become wise to trust in Ark!?

  There is too much to ponder on. But we are with limited time. There is no telling how long Mael’s ‘head start’ will last.

  “Gwim?”

  It would seem Pedj has again taken the crystal into his mouth. He calls for me through the near-dark.

  “I am here.” I flit to where he is and he jumps in startledom.

  “Do not be fearful,” I bid him. “I am not prepared to make a hasty decision. What does the fox think we should do?”

  Removing the crystal, Pedj whispers. “Ugh. ‘Course he wants to march right on to Yel’ram. Says he’s not buyin’ it so hot. Thinks there ain’t no way Mael’s changed that quick. Says he won’t let her get me, but when it comes to choosin’ me or the rest of the world, ain’t hard to guess who the croop’ll pick.”

  Speaking of whom –

  “Did you find her?” Feligo approaches, searching the ground for my no-longer-visible shadow.

  “Yup, she’s here.”

  “Mm. I sense her now. And?” Feligo prods.

  Pedj replaces the crystal. “Yeah, Gwim, AND?” he asks circumspectly. “What’re you finkin’?”

  It all comes down to one thing.

  “Do you truly believe Mael capable of hurting you?” I say.

  “Cwank yeah I do! They been dwillin’ that bawoney into me since we was kippers! You see how somefin’ in her clicked the minute I used Gold!? Not to mention I ain’t never seen a light so bwight. If that ain’t the power of the sun, I don’t know what’s is!”

  He makes a point.

  “I cannot say that I believe Mael would exhibit violence toward you, but you know her better than either Feligo or I. What is more, we have witnessed her under coercion before. If you think that you are in danger, I will comply.”

  “H-hoo!?” The zombie is taken by surprise. “Phoo. Was sorta hopin’ you’d tell me I was overreactin’ . . .”

  “Are you overreacting?”

  “Well . . . no.”

  “Then why should I waste words on false consolation!?” After a burst of fervor, I reclaim my bearings. “I spoke the location Yel’ram neither to Mael nor to Techton. It is my belief that they will stay together and come after you. While I admit that the prospect of your sacrifice to wake the world is appealing, I do not yet know the consequences of such action. My bond with Awyer might suffer, and that is not something I can chance.”

  “Wow, fanks for your concern for my life,” he mutters with sarcasm.

  I choose to ignore him. “All the same, I believe we should travel to Yel’ram. We are at an advantage. The others do not know of our destination, and we are with a head start. If we find refuge, I will attempt to enter Dimensia again and converse with Awyer. With luck, I will have more time with him to find what he knows and ask his adv
ice regarding your prophecy. If there is anything that I have learned it is that destiny is not easily escaped. If you and Mael are meant to follow this course, there is naught that can be done to stop it. Our best chance is arriving at Yel’ram ahead of them and inspecting what it has in store. Do not forget that Techton commands the spirits of darkness. They will find you, and he will follow. We must do what we can while we can.”

  My new confidant conveys the gist of what I’ve spoken to Feligo, but Feligo remains unconvinced.

  “Can we stop and consider that maybe you’re reading too much into this prophecy of yours? Heaven knows the Bloődites are superstitious. Your sister didn’t say she was going to kill you. I find it hard to believe that that small girl is capable of aggression.”

  “Coufin,” says Pedj, mouth yet full of crystal. “And she got you, didn’t she?”

  Feligo falls silent. Mael’s fierceness speaks for itself.

  “Nevertheless, don’t you think we should make sure before jumping to wild conclusions? If someone told me that my sister had suddenly changed into a bloodthirsty hound, I’d question their sanity.”

  “Nobody said anythin’ ‘bout bwoodfirsty!” Pedj comes to his pursuer’s defense. “And do you even have a fister?”

  “I! . . . Don’t.”

  Pedj gives out a groan.

  “Tell me more of this ‘draggar’ Mael is to rise,” I say with a shudder. “What is it, exactly?”

  “How the heck should I know?”

  “YOU SHOULD VERY WELL KNOW!” Again, I lash out when there is not time for it.

  Pedj holds his hands up in defense. “All I know is it’s somefin’ evil. I mean, cwankin’ A! Don’t just the word make you spooked?”

  Indeed it does. I swallow in apprehension. “Ask the Maestro if he knows of it.”

  Though Pedj passes along the message, Feligo does not provide clarity. None of our shrunken party has knowledge, past or present, of draggars, but we all agree on one thing: The word itself is harrowing.

  . . .

  After much coaxing, Pedj agrees to make Yel’ram our new destination; and although Feligo does not buy into Mael’s sudden wickedness, it comes as no surprise that he, too, is all for traveling to Yel’ram and gaining fresh insight on how to wake his people. If only my new confidant were so willing. In Pedj’s wide eyes, there is real fear. In his filled cheeks, signs of gauntness return. His skin, naturally peach, reverts to pale. He plucks at his discorded hair with angst.

  He fears Ark, the prophecy, but more than those, he fears Mael, his kin. ‘Flesh and blood’ does not stand for much if mind and soul are corrupted.

  But to think of Mael as corrupted is not accurate. More so, she is awakened to a destiny out of her control. Again, fate leads us, and we can do nothing but chase after it. Unfortunately, this time it is Pedj who is made to suffer. Seeing the uneasiness upon his face, I cannot help but wonder:

  What would I do if Awyer suddenly sought my death?

  I picture his hands upon my throat, the only hands that may touch me in the absence of enchants. I imagine that they squeeze, accompanied by an expression of duty interrupted by remorse. Those eyes, ancient and primal, stare me down, unwavering as he is driven to do something out of his control.

  Ache. The thought of it is too, too much!

  “For her sake as well as yours, we will not allow her to sacrifice you!” I say with boldness. In relating to Pedj, I move beyond faeriedom and into unexplored territory. In Awyer’s absence, I will be a friend to Awyer’s friend. “It is Mael we are speaking of. She has been broken out of influence once before and she can be broken out again. Once we know more of the prophecy, we will know how to fight it. I know that worry plagues you, my friend, but without magicks, I will no longer be seen by my ward. If you cannot have faith in Mael, have faith that I will never allow myself to be cut off from Awyer. I will never, ever dare to let that happen.”

  It is only on my promise that I will not do anything that will jeopardize my bond with Awyer that the chary Bloődite at last makes the first step.

  Chapter X: Lochie

  How quickly friend may turn to foe. I did not realize before how rapidly relationships could change. . . . Then again, I have never before had relationships to speak of.

  Ours is an unlucky group, for we lost not one but two friends in a matter of minutes.

  The mood hung over us is sullen. Sulking. Lugubrious. Dismal. A myriad of heavy emotions floats over Pedj – enough to count for us all. Feligo does not grieve in the way Pedj does, for his bonds with the others are not deep. Instead, he keeps quietly to himself, practicing his sword skills and grooming his trailing hair.

  I stick near to my pactor, understanding for the first time that friendships are fragile. Even familial bonds can be easily broken by fate.

  Accursed fate, again it plays a menace.

  By night we travel with lit torches; by day by way of the sun. Our trek is much less lively without Techton and Mael, and even talkative Pedj is quieter under the stress of leading Awyer’s bonemen. For long spells of time, he removes the crystal and ponders in silence. I draw small comfort from the fact that Feligo can sense when I am near – even in places lacking sunlight.

  Using one of the maps retrieved from the archive, we plot a course to Yel’ram – ancient city of pilgrimage, which I have crossed in the distant past. But what did Ark mean by Cascade? To my knowledge, Yel’ram does not cascade. No matter. We must reach it swiftly, before our powerful counterparts, and before Ark, who will eventually learn our path.

  From the Blue Capital the land is well traversed. Many threadbare paths cross through the hills and trees. Posts mark the way to cities and sights. “Arcania Drift,” Feligo reads aloud, pointing to the east; and then sometime later, “Commonwealth Crescent,” he says, whilst pointing to the west.

  The Azurian occupancy spreads wide, and it is almost impossible to keep from passing into some lesser Azurian city or another as we travel the country. The limits of each are protected by curved walls of metal. Shining roofs and rounded architecture – those are the physiognomies of the Azurian dwellings.

  The cities we pass through were not as fortunate as the Blue Capital. They were not left with a knight like Feligo to watch over them and transport their fallen into safer shelter. Sleeping citizens lie crumpled in the road, dressed in daywear and positioned without care for their necks and limbs.

  “Thought you said it was night when the sleepness hit?” Pedj whispers in the center of one particularly unfortunate town, tiptoeing around a resting businessman.

  “Why do you whisper?” I ridicule. “It is not as though you will wake them.”

  Alas, I am unheard, for the crystal is within Pedj’s pocket.

  “It was night,” the Maestro says. He tips his head this way and that, and nudges the businessman’s suitcase with his foot. “There shouldn’t be so many out. Unless . . .” First contemplating, he follows by thrusting his arm toward an unassuming waterwheel. “Someone warned them!”

  That may be the case, but what has the waterwheel to do with it?

  Feligo retracts his thrust hand, pushing it instead through his mane. “A mythic of Azuria probably fled to warn this city. Ah. We are a noble people.”

  “Coulda been a Bloődite, too, you know,” Pedj says bitterly.

  I zip ahead, and Pedj follows my shadow, but Feligo stalls.

  “You know we can’t stop to put thems all back inside, right?” Pedj asserts.

  Good boy.

  With the threat of Mael and Techton in our wake, even the Azurian understands the rush we are under. We have not even stopped for sleep since departing the Capital. “Then I shall return for them!” he sings. But as he continues on, his eyes linger upon the businessman. “D-does anyone need to use the lavatory?” he asks suddenly.

  “By anyone, you mean me, right?” Pedj wrinkles his brow. “Don’t think Grim could get on takin’ a piss.”

  Crass!

  “Then again,” he goes on
, absentmindedly. “I wonder if she could . . .?”

  Again, crass!

  “Why don’t you ask her?” says Feligo, speaking uncommonly rushed. “In fact, I insist that you do! I’ll be there in a dash.” Leaving Pedj no time to protest, he takes the zombie by the shoulders and steers him around the corner. The moment he believes us out of sight, he rushes back over his steps and begins to drag the businessman down the lawn and into a nearby dwelling.

  Predictable.

  When he is finished with one, he darts to lug another.

  Pedj pops the crystal into his mouth. “That croop’s somefin’ else.”

  “Aye.” I say, observing the Maestro openly while my shadow hides in a bush’s. At present, he seeks to heave a very large woman over a threshold.

  Pedj laughs. “It kinda makes you wonder if he’s all there or not.”

  “He certainly has a vast sense of self–” Before I may finish, I remember something, and that something causes me to spin rebukingly. “AHA! At last you choose to hear me! I wish that you would refrain from ignoring me so!”