by J B Cantwell
When I first began to feel sensation on my skin I started to awake in earnest. Below me a soft, gravelly, warm substance nestled around my fingertips. Above, a gentle breeze stroked my cheek. I could feel air moving in and out of my lungs, though it was a movement I had no control over.
Next came sound. It began not from a muffled place, like I had experienced when Cadoc had crushed me into death, but simply a quiet one. The beating sounds of water and earth mingled with that of my beating heart, and soon joined together as one deafening roar in my ears.
And then my eyes. On another day, in another place, I would have been sad to see the stars around me disappear, extinguishing themselves in little pops until there was nothing left but black emptiness. But there was that sense of urgency I was feeling, and as I followed it, desperate to determine why it existed, I barely noticed the vanishing of the cosmos. Strange blotches of dark and then bright red swam beneath my eyelids. Then, finally, a white so bright that its sting pierced my eyes. Soon I could feel my own arm, shielding my face from a blinding sun overhead.
I was gasping. I rolled over onto my side and took in enormous gulps of air as if I had never tasted it before. My hands gripped the ground underneath me as I fought to fill my body with oxygen, and I found that the ground slipped right through my fingertips. I had been lying on sand.
As my breathing slowed I became aware of a pressure on my back, and when I looked up the first thing I saw was those green eyes, the ones that had faded from view so long ago, looking down at me with concern. Jade knelt on the beach next to me, her hand resting on my shirt, supporting my weight when I couldn’t. As I slowly caught my breath, her face relaxed into a smile.
“I thought you were gone there for a while,” she said.
I tried to speak. I had been gone. But when I opened my mouth I found it so dry that only a hoarse croak passed my lips.
“Don’t try to talk yet,” she said. “Here, have some of this.” She held out a small stone cup filled with water.
Nothing in the world had ever tasted so good. The water soothed my throat and I quickly gulped the entire cup, wanting more. I sat up, determined to support my own weight, but I fell back to the soft sand.
“How—how long—” I tried to say, but she cut me off.
“Don’t,” she said. “You’ve been through a lot in the past few days. Best to let me tell you the story.”
I gave a slight nod.
“After Cadoc…well…after he left, I thought you were going to die,” she began. “In fact, I thought you were dead for a little while. He had all but broken you in two.” I nodded, remembering the blazing pain of my cracked ribs tearing apart my insides.
“Well,” she went on, “I panicked for a while. And after you stopped breathing I really thought there would be no hope. But as I began to accept that you were dead I sort of came back to myself. We were in a cave; a cave made of granite.”
I didn’t understand what she meant, though she was surely talking about something that I should find significant.
“Granite is the stone that I’ve used for centuries to make the elixir of life,” she said. “So, once I came to my senses again, I got to work. It wasn’t easy, mind you. There was no light in the cave by that point, so I could only see by what little light I was able to conjure myself. But I made do, and eventually I was able to make the draft.”
She paused here, and her eyes became glazed and unfocused as she looked over me and off into the distance. “It wasn’t supposed to work. I knew that it wouldn’t, in my heart. I had failed with it before. The elixir has only ever given life back to those on the brink of death, not to those who have already crossed over. And even then, not always. But I poured it down your throat anyways. Then I took up the pendant, grabbed tightly onto you, and brought us here.”
“How did you get us—” I began.
“I told you to shush!” she retorted with a smile. “Here, drink more,” and rolled me back onto my side and pushed another cup towards my face.
“When we landed here you were still as dead as any man I’ve ever seen,” she said. “But I didn’t give up hope. How could I? I determined to give you two weeks to respond before moving on. But after just two days and three nights you began breathing again. This brought me enormous joy, and I’ve been waiting close by your side ever since.”
“How long since?” I croaked out, and she glanced at me with mild irritation.
“Three more days,” she answered. “Today is the morning of our sixth day on the beach. I couldn’t—” she hesitated. “I couldn’t stay there in that place.”
“No problem,” I said hoarsely. I, myself, had seen enough of caves to last me a while.
She smiled at me, and a warm feeling of gratitude filled my chest. I lay back down on the sand, but my eyes still held hers. I stared into the eyes of a friend.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You are quite welcome.”
I slept then, but in an entirely different way from before. Images flashed across my vision now, and the strange dreams of a normal slumber filled my mind.
When I awoke it was late in the day, and I felt stronger than I had before meeting Cadoc in the cave. I sat up abruptly and looked around, my eyes finding Jade in the distance walking among the rocks on the far side of the beach. I got to my feet and set out along the soft sand in her direction.
I inspected the beach as I walked. Up above the rocky cliffs hung over us. Somewhere up there was the lair, the place of Cadoc’s, and my, death. I guess that, technically, I was now a murderer. But it didn’t feel that way. I had been defending Jade, for one thing, and was Cadoc even human anymore at the end? He had once been Zarich, but I doubted that any humanity could have survived inside that body, sharing the space with all that smoke. I looked down at my hand as I walked. Only the faintest outline of a long-healed burn mark was visible on my palm, the mark left by the jade dagger before it had left my grip.
The sand pushed up between my bare toes as I crossed the beach towards her. I had questions, but I didn’t know if she, or anyone, would ever be able to answer them.
“Hi,” I said when I was twenty feet from her. She was collecting stones into a small pile between a little grove of trees. She spun and smiled.
“Hello,” she said. “You are up.”
“Yes,” I said. “I feel pretty good.”
“That’s not surprising,” she replied. “The elixir of life is extremely powerful.” She fell into step with me as I continued walking on the sand.
“Will I live for centuries now? Like you?” I asked.
“No, I doubt it,” she laughed. “I only lived for centuries because I took the elixir for centuries. I suspect that now I will have a somewhat normal lifespan. Though I can tell you that people can sometimes continue on in their lives with slightly more vigor than before. You may find health where you once lacked it. And perhaps a few extra years may favor you.”
We continued to walk in silence for a time. Jade fiddled with the long golden chain I had broken from Cadoc’s neck, passing it back and forth between her hands. We slowed and found a place to stop.
“I don’t understand something,” I said as we both sat down in the sand. “Why did he die?”
She didn’t answer me right away. We both looked out at the ocean as she thought.
“I do not know,” she finally said. “Maybe the jadestone was able to destroy him because I was so close to it. Maybe you have a power I do not know of. It has puzzled me over these days of waiting for you.”
I reached out and took the chain from her hands. Holding up the pendant, I flipped it over to see the carved symbol of Almara.
“What a treasure, don’t you think?” she said.
“I guess,” I said.
“You guess?” she said. “I never dreamed I would see so much gold in one place. The power in this pendant is enormous.”
I looked at her, surprised. Was she messing with me? But her eyes met mine earnestly. I smiled.
<
br /> “Jade, Cadoc said something while you were passed out, something that I didn’t understand,” I said. “He said Almara killed Amelia. What was he talking about?”
She tore her eyes away from the pendant and looked at me, and her brows knitted with confusion.
“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “Father didn’t kill Amelia, she just died. And why would he? He is no murderer.” She gazed out at the water as she said this, shaking her head slowly from side to side.
My eyes followed hers, and I stared at the glittering water.
“Well, he was insane,” I said. “But I wonder why he said it.” I glanced quickly over at her.
Suddenly, I realized that she had tears streaming down her face.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, alarmed.
A sort of choking sound came from her throat and she buried her face in her hands.
“Jade? What’s going on? Why are you crying?”
“I failed you,” she wailed when she finally raised her head.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I could not do it! I could not face him! It should have been I to kill Cadoc, not you! And you! You died because of my failure! It is only luck that has restored you to life. I am weak and undeserving of a friendship such as yours. I have disgraced myself, and in so doing both I and my family have failed you.”
This was crazy! I laughed. I couldn’t help it.
“Jade,” I said, snickering, “you are my family.”
She stopped for a moment, surprised by what I had said, and then she, too began to laugh. A few teary chuckles passed her lips and then she descended back into sobbing.
I didn’t know what to do. I went for a stern, older-brother sort of tone.
“Look kid,” I said, “I saved your life. And you saved mine. We’re square.”
“I just couldn’t—” she was hiccupping now, “I just couldn’t face him. I am a coward.”
I laughed at this, too.
“That is the single stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say. And that’s saying a lot, considering the list keeps on growing.” She didn’t stop crying. I let her carry on for a few minutes, and I put my arm around her shoulder until she settled down.
When both the sobbing and the hiccuping had finally ceased, I tried again, this time a little gentler.
“Nobody, not in a thousand years, could ever blame you for clamming up in front of someone like Cadoc. After what he did to you—” I broke off, not wanting to make her cry again. “Anybody would have been scared out of their wits, Jade. Anybody. In fact, I think you just might be the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
She didn’t look up at me, but her breathing slowed as she seemed to consider my words. Several long minutes later I spoke again.
“What will happen now?” I asked. Cadoc was dead. Almara was probably dead. And Kiron and the others, trapped in Stonemore.
“We will continue on,” she said, lifting her head. A hard glint shined in her eyes. She had almost composed herself. “My father is out there. Somewhere.”
“Jade, you know he might be—” I broke off, not having the heart to finish the sentence.
“I know,” she said quietly. “That letter. There are many new questions. What did he mean by saying I was the key?” She shook her head. “We have to try to find him. Don’t we?”
I nodded. Yes, of course we did. We had to try to find Almara, or at least to find out what happened to him. And what he had written in that letter was on my mind, too. What, exactly, had happened with my great great grandfather that resulted in him coming to Earth? I might never find out, but unless I tried I would wonder forever.
Then there was the issue of Kiron. Was he down in the dungeons, too? I told her what Cadoc had said about Stonemore and the prisoners.
Jade thought for a moment. “We try for Father first,” she said. “Cadoc is gone. Perhaps the prisoners will be freed without him there to rule. But if not, and if we can find Father…”
Yes. If any chance really did exist that Almara was still alive, surely we would have much more success in a rescue mission to Stonemore with him than without him.
“Cadoc,” I said. “When he was dying he spoke of others like him.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think they know about us? Do they know what has happened to their ‘brother’?”
“I know not,” she said. “Some types of magic are connected, as I am connected to the rocks and the earth. Some are independent, not attached to one another. Perhaps they do not yet know.”
My skin was getting that tingly feeling again, the feeling of pent up energy. I stood up and stretched my arms above my head. Considering I had recently been dead, I was feeling pretty amazing. She stood, too, and together we started walking back to the makeshift camp she had arranged while I slept.
“Well,” I said, “we’d better be off then, don’t you think?”
“Let’s wait,” she said softly, “just long enough for the sun to set. I’ve really missed seeing the sun.”
When we arrived back at the camp, she handed me the gold chain and then sat down in the sand, watching the sun slip beneath the ocean. Jade’s face was warm with the last light of the day, and she dried the last of her tears with the sleeve of her ragged nightgown.
“We need to get you some better clothes,” I said. This brought the first smile since the crying had started.
“Ok,” she said, standing. “Are you ready?”
I slung the pack around my back and stood facing her.
“Ready,” I smiled.
The little, impossibly old, impossibly young girl looked up into my eyes. She pulled Almara’s letter from her sleeve, now uncrumpled and flat from days of her reading and rereading it. The link.
It struck me that we might not find Almara, or any trace of him, at all. The truth about what happened to him could be anywhere, lost in the maze of the Maylin Fold. We could be jumping into another snarled mess as we tried to find him.
But no matter. Whether here or on Earth, this was the only life I had. And every cell in my body was screaming at me to get moving.
“Time to go, princess,” I said, lacing the last word with sarcasm.
She glared at me. There she was, finally back again.
“Aster Wood, you are a fool,” she said coolly.
I laughed. “Ready for another adventure?” I asked.
In answer, she held out the letter again. I took it, and her hand, and held both up high above our heads.
The rocks around us burst away from the force of the link. Our insides were pulled and stretched as we leapt into the jump, our hands cemented together. I wondered where this jump would take us. Would we land in the center of a raging battle? Or find peace on an empty stretch of earth? Would the Corentin know where to look for us? Which planet lay on the other side of this link?
I looked over at Jade. My friend. My blood. Her eyes were shut tight, not seeing the whirl of color and light that spun us like a corkscrew through time and space. But I didn’t close my own this time.
My eyes were open now.
<<<< >>>>
Aster Wood and the Book of Leveling
Book 2
Chapter 1
This was the worst idea Jade had yet.
I was crumpled into a tight ball on the cabin bed, willing what was left of my dinner to stay in my acid-filled stomach, while the creaking, groaning ship swayed around me. With each cresting wave the wooden vessel rose up, tilting me dangerously close to the edge of the mattress, and then fell with a rush.
Couldn’t we have just walked?
The ship gave another jolt, and I buried my head in the pillow. Ugh! When would this rocking nightmare stop? I wished desperately for the end of the sea voyage, but I knew it was hopeless. It would be two more days before my feet would touch land again. Or so the sailors had told us.
The door to the tiny cabin creaked loudly on sea-salt rusted hinges. And then she was tugging at my arm, trying to peel
me from the bed.
“Come on, Aster,” Jade’s voice reached for me through my foggy consciousness. “Don’t be such a child. You’ll feel better on deck.”
“No,” I moaned into the musty mattress. “Leave me alone.”
“You need air, you fool,” she said with a particularly sharp pull on my arm.
I snatched my hand away from her grip and rolled over. I wasn’t ready to believe that relief lay anywhere but in the depths of this pillow.
“You’re being an idiot,” she said to my back. I had spent enough time with Jade over the past few months that I could easily imagine her face without actually looking at it. She was the type of kid who wore a look or superiority to express almost every type of emotion. She shoved my shoulder. “Aster, get up.”
I flung her tiny hands away and folded my body in half, warding her off, refusing to play.
She finally gave up, and her little feet stomped with all the ferocity she could manage against the wooden floor of the cabin. She banged the door on her way out and I covered my ears with my hands. The door missed its latch and squeaked back and forth on its hinges as it opened and closed with the rolling of the sea.
Jade had become, for all intents and purposes, like a little sister to me, though she was actually my senior by a couple hundred years. I was driven to protect her, my companion and friend, from the evils that lurked in the worlds we traveled through. She looked to me for safety and stability, and I to her for experience and knowledge. She meant well, I was sure of that. And we had been through so, so much together, our battles fought side by side joining us in spirit. But along with our friendship came the rivalries and irritations all brothers and sisters have. Most days, she just made me nuts.
