by J B Cantwell
The end. He may have left his people, but the doctrine of the Solitaries had remained with him. My stomach gave a hollow twist as I realized that, zealot or not, he could easily be right. If Cadoc had had his way, he would have obliterated every beautiful, wonderful thing he could lay his hands on. And if Erod believed that a world like Cadoc’s was what lay ahead, why not go home? Why not spend your last moments among those you love?
It had been many nights since I had thought of my own home. On Earth my mother and grandmother, maybe even my father, awaited my return. Surely they thought I was dead by now. I had been gone, disappeared from the old lady’s attic, for many months. I wondered, if I had been away for years instead, would I still long to return?
My old life seemed so far away. My mundane existence of schoolwork and hospitals and the ever difficult task of keeping air moving in and out of my lungs, all now abandoned and forgotten by me as I jumped from planet to planet like some sort of cosmic superhero. On Earth the kids at the city school were probably back in classes by now. They would sit in stuffy, pale rooms, their noses pressed into books, learning about the decline of our world and how it led them to be in that very place. What did they say about me? Maybe nobody even noticed I was gone.
But Mom noticed. Mom would be there, waiting. Always.
After the agonizing hours of night, the faint glow of morning revealed itself through the misty fog. Twenty minutes later, with the sun finally threatening to rise in earnest, we saw it. A thin strip of land sat stable amid the waves. As the stone raft drifted nearer, a giant granite structure rising up into the clouds came into view.
“Ah! Boy!” whooped Erod, clapping me on the back with his massive hand. “I can’t believe it!”
I couldn’t believe it, either. My enormous gamble had paid off.
Jutting up from the hard mountain, the castle of Riverstone towered high, awaiting the return of its princess.
Chapter 5
The stones beneath us fell back to the depths of the ocean as soon as Jade saw the towering structure.
“Father,” she called out softly, and then sunk quietly into the frigid water, her magical raft forgotten.
I splashed and sputtered in the swells. Erod tread water and plucked Jade from beneath the waves, her wet hair clinging to her face, her eyes lost in a blank stare. Then he grabbed for me, and I felt the power of his large, muscled arm rescue me from drowning yet again. He turned onto his back, floating, and held each of us under one arm. His feet kicked expertly at the water, propelling us towards the shore. As the waves rocked us up and down, he began to sing.
Tell the mothers to hold their babes
Darkness comes bearing wicked blades
Through the night past the stars’ retreat
Children dream of a swift defeat
‘Cross the meadow he’ll bring his tribe
O’er rock and sand, nowhere to hide
We will wait and not mark the score
He brings us death, we bring him war
“What does that mean?” I asked through chattering teeth. “Are all of your people like that? Always looking for war?”
“We do not seek war. The song is about our lives, and about what awaits. We sing what we know.”
“And you really think that war is what’s coming?” I asked.
“I don’t think it.” He breathed hard from the effort of the swim. “I know it.”
I rolled onto my back, staring at the sky and trying to forget how cold I suddenly was. How awful it must be to have a war song be the tune that calls you home. But Erod didn’t seem to mind that blood and death made up the song of his people. From what Jade had said, the Solitaries had expected war to erupt at any second for a very long time.
After twenty minutes or so, Erod suddenly turned his body upright. His feet had found the sea floor, but he continued to carry us along, my feet still kicking helplessly beneath the surface, Jade’s body limp as a wet rag. When he was so far out of the water that only his knees remained submerged, he finally released us.
I wobbled as I began walking towards the beach, exhausted from the effort and stiff from the intense cold. The sun on the back of my neck was the only part of me that began to warm. It was the hunger for more heat that kept me moving forward, resisting the force of the waves in the shallows to keeping myself standing.
As I finally reached the dry sand, I turned to look for Jade, expecting her to be right beside me. But what I saw instead was that she hadn’t moved at all. She stood staring blankly up at the castle, the waves crashing around her knees. Erod looked back and, seeing her pushed down by one of the waves, waded back in to fetch her. He picked her up in both arms, cradling her, and carried her to shore as he might a small child at bedtime.
All three of us sat on the sand, shivering in the morning sun as the water lapped at our boots. I took off my pack and jacket, spreading them out over the beach to dry, and then lay back, heaving. Erod sat with his arms resting on his knees, breathing hard, looking up at the enormous tower before us.
But Jade did not sit for long. As soon as she had breath, she was drawn upward by the call of the great castle. She took a few steps away from us and then stood, transfixed and staring.
“Jade,” I called. “You should rest.” She ignored me.
She didn’t move except for the occasional uncontrollable shivering jolt of her body.
“What is wrong with her?” he asked.
The horrors that Jade had been subjected to over the past two hundred years could have filled a book. There was no easy way to explain this, so I said nothing. Instead I hoisted myself up and walked over to stand with her. I looked up at the castle as the last mist of morning was fading away.
“Do you think he’s there?” I said softly.
She didn’t respond.
The structure was unlike any I had ever seen. Once a cliff face, stoneworkers had cut into the solid rock, carving out the castle from the mass instead of building it from the ground. The outer face of the mountain was still rough and jagged with ancient stone, left untouched by the workers. But hundreds of windows were hollowed out, their edges ornately decorated by the master stonesmen. High atop the tallest spire a ragged, soiled flag fluttered in the wind. It bore Almara’s symbol.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I hadn’t heard Erod approach behind us, and I started. He inhaled a deep breath of sea air and raised his face towards the sun. “Good to be home.”
The steady beat of the waves on the shore were, at first, the only sounds of the morning. But slowly a humming began to creep into my ears. Thinking it was the noise of a bee, I waved my hands around my head, trying to shoo the stinging pest in a different direction. But soon the humming became so loud that I realized no insect could be making it. A few moments later, my ears began to throb with the vibration, and I clapped my hands over them. Erod followed suit a moment later. But Jade stood still in her trance as she took in the castle.
BOOM.
From the castle a tremendous blast radiated out in all directions, knocking all three of us to the ground. A shock wave thirty feet high glowed just brighter than the morning mist, and it rolled over the beach and raced out to sea. Beneath it the water was drawn upwards as if to a magnet, creating a low, powerful wave many miles long. I wondered if the crew back on the ship were prepared for another battering.
I shook my head vigorously back and forth, trying to clear the slight ring that the sound had left in my ears.
“What was that?” I asked to no one in particular. I was surprised when it was Jade who answered.
“Torrensai.”
Erod and I glanced at one another.
Jade got to her feet and began walking towards the castle. I grabbed my pack and started after her.
“Jade, where are you going?” I said, panting as I struggled to keep up. “Come on, we don’t know if it’s safe to go in there yet. If that was another Torrensai then it’s almost definitely not safe. Jade!” I grabbed her arm and swung
her around, forcing her green eyes to meet mine. They narrowed, breaking for a moment the haze that had overcome her.
“This is my home,” she said, her voice quiet and dangerous. “Whatever is going on in there, I want to see it for myself. It is my birthright.”
“Whoever, or whatever, is making the Torrensai isn’t going to care about your birthright.”
She raised her eyebrows and turned on her heels, striding towards a rough staircase cut in the steep rock face at the edge of the beach.
“Ugh!” I bellowed.
But I followed her.
“Jade, you’re not thinking clearly! We need to rest and regroup, talk about what we’re going to do next.” My begging only resulted in her speed increasing.
Erod caught up with us.
“Torrensai are most dangerous on the water,” he told me as we trudged through the sand. “It won’t be as bad on the land. You needn’t worry so much about an attack now.”
“It’s not the Torrensai I’m worried about,” I said.
It was whoever was behind them.
But, despite my desperate need for her to consider caution, I understood. Her home, magnificent and real and so, so close, drew her to it, promising relief from all of her pain. It could be another Cadoc up there. But she didn’t care. To her, it was worth the risk.
The stairs slowed her down, and both of us were soon too winded to argue. The top of the cliff was at least five hundred feet above our heads. On flat ground I could run, and fast. But climbing up a mountain took substantially more effort than racing across a level plain.
Erod seemed to barely notice the steep climb. He walked confidently up the steps as if they were no more than a slight inconvenience. Jade and I fell into step beside one another, slowly dragging our tired bodies upwards.
What seemed like hours later, we collapsed, our chests heaving, at the top of the staircase. I wasn’t cold anymore, that was for sure, but my clothes were still damp enough to feel cool on my body. Jade and I lay back for several minutes, catching our breath, while Erod stood impatiently over us. His eyes scoured the road that ran in front of the castle, and a look of great concern came over his face.
“There’s nobody here,” he said, pacing. “Where have they all gone?”
As my breathing steadied, I pushed myself to my elbows and looked around.
The granite road was deserted, and it looked like it had been for a long time. Down the road in the distance, I saw the gates of the city swung wide. Whoever had fled, or arrived, hadn’t thought it necessary to lock up.
Jade stood up and trained her eyes on the towering mass of stone above us. One window in particular seemed to dominate her gaze, and a moment later her little feet were flying across the stone towards the nearest entrance to the castle.
Like the gates, the great wood and iron doors to the castle were open. She slipped between them and vanished into the mountain. I ran after her, willing my exhausted body to keep up. Erod’s enormous feet plodded the stone as he followed us.
“Jade! Wait up!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice quiet. This place may look empty, but until we knew for sure there was no need to broadcast our arrival. But she continued on, ignoring my request.
I pushed through the door and stopped, unable to keep myself from gaping at the magnificent hall I had just stepped into.
The interior of the castle was colossal. The ceiling stretched several hundred feet above our heads, and as each pebble that flung out beneath Jade’s flying feet found the floor again, a shower of echoing taps bounced off the smooth walls. Every surface was the same cold, blue stone of the mountain, just as it had been cut so long ago. Sunlight shone in magnificent beams from what seemed like a thousand windows overhead, and as Jade ran, thin plumes of dust raised in her wake, swirling in the morning light.
Erod stood in the entrance, a combination of relief and worry on his face. He knew this place, but had never known it like this.
Across from the entrance, a great, curving staircase was carved into the stone, each spindle in the railing a masterpiece of strength and art united.
Jade made for the stairs, too far away to bother or care about my protests.
I shook myself. I had to stay focused, to follow her. I went after her as fast as my spent body would allow. I climbed to the top and stumbled into the hallway she had disappeared into.
It was darker up here, the rooms less grand than the entrance hall, but all still ornately, lovingly carved.
“Jade!” I called out in a tense whisper. I poked my head into each room as I searched the empty caverns of what was once her home.
It didn’t take long to find her, her flight halted. She stood in one of the smaller rooms and stared out the window. The sound of the wind whistling through the hall and my labored breathing were all that filled the space. I walked to her side.
“Don’t do that,” I complained. “You can’t just run off like that. What if something—”
But I stopped abruptly when I saw the giant tears that were streaming down her face.
I sighed.
“Jade,” I began.
“This was our family’s home,” she said softly. “Father always told me that I would find him here. One day. That here we would meet.” She gestured to the empty room.
All that remained here was the great stone fireplace. I imagined their little family, before the sickness began to spread. Maybe they had sat on that very hearth, planning out the day’s adventures. Jade would have been small, maybe five. Brendan just becoming a young man. Almara, in my imagination, had always been old.
“He’s not here,” she sobbed. “What are we going to do now?” The haze she had been moving beneath seemed to release her, and her emotions spilled out of her.
I put my arm around her shoulder, still taking in the details of what was once her home. A large picture frame hung empty on one wall. A single, tattered curtain hung from one of the windows.
“One thing at a time, kid,” I said. “We just got here. We need to search around and see what’s left. And maybe Erod’s family can help us. Maybe they know something.”
“I don’t trust him,” she shot, moving away from me. “He’s one of them. Father always said to stay away from the Solitaries.“
“He saved our lives,” I said.
“That proves nothing,” she said, crossing her arms. Her tears of sadness were turning angry. “You’re wrong about him. Whatever he told you was lies.”
“You don’t know that,” I said, starting to get angry, myself. “And anyways, I’ve trusted you this whole time. I got on that stupid boat and came here because I believed that you were right, that you knew what you were doing. And you didn’t even bother to tell me about the threat of the Solitaries until it was way too late for us to turn back. Well now I’m the one who has the information, and I say you’re wrong. I don’t know about all of them, but I trust him.”
We each stood there, glaring at each other, when a scuffling sound came from behind where we stood. Erod must have heard us arguing and was coming now to find out what was going on.
“We’re in here,” I called, my eyes shooting Jade a warning. The last thing we needed was her offending him. He had saved our skins more than once in the past twenty four hours, and for all we knew we’d need his help again before this day was out.
The scuffling sound stopped. I looked around, perplexed, and then back at Jade. Her eyes were still brimming with tears.
I turned and tiptoed into the corridor, and I heard it again. In another room down the hall, the slight scratching sound, like someone’s boots scraping the floor.
I turned to Jade and put my finger over my lips.
Be quiet.
Together we moved towards the sound. I saw over the railing now that Erod was still down below. He stood in the middle of the hall, slowly turning on the spot, like a tourist in a cathedral.
If it wasn’t Erod, then what was making that noise?
I grabbed Jade’s hand and we cre
pt through the passage. Through an opening in the stone the noise became louder. We paused outside, listening, and then slowly pushed open a tall wood door.
The room was big and brighter than any other room in the castle I had yet seen. Windows lined the far wall and stretched from floor to ceiling. Soft morning light lit an intricate mosaic floor beneath our feet. In the center, a tall, slim table stood empty.
And before it, a figure clothed in a long robe shredded to rags swayed. Long, gray hair hung in matted snarls down his back. He rocked slightly from foot to foot, making the shuffling noise again as his steps scraped the floor. He muttered quietly to himself, his shriveled hands in the air making strange, jerking gestures like a sort of twisted dance.
Jade stared.
“Hello?” I said quietly.
The man froze mid-step. Then he slowly turned around, his mad eyes round and bloodshot, and stared at us.
“Father?” Jade breathed. And a moment later her face broke into a wide, awed grin.
Almara.
Chapter 6
He turned and raised his arms as if to embrace Jade. But his eyes were wild. She didn’t see it. She saw only the father she had longed for. She moved forward, her face crumpling, opening her arms as she moved, before I had a chance to yell out.
“Torrensio!” Almara boomed.
From the ancient, withered man came a power so great it knocked both of us to the floor. The entire mountain shook around us, sending chunks of rocks the size of baseballs tumbling to the ground. The force of the blast rolled over us, just as the previous Torrensai had, and I covered my head with my arms as the pebbles continued to rain down and dance around on the mosaic tile.
When the rocks stopped falling and the castle was still, I squinted through the dust, searching for Jade. She was just two feet from me, and lay in a fetal position, protecting herself from the tumbling mountain.
