by Aaron Ehasz
“Oh,” he said, turning to face the bird and patting down his robes. “No song for the occasion?”
Pip remained still and silent.
Wasn’t expecting one, Viren thought to himself with a smirk. Then he stepped through the curtains and onto the balcony.
An enormous crowd had gathered in the courtyard below. The early morning air was crisp and cold, and Viren shivered despite his many clothes. Guards flanked the crowd, bearing weapons and torches. And there was Opeli, waiting for him on the balcony, with the crown in her hands. Viren ignored the cold expression on her face and addressed the crowd.
“People of Katolis. King Harrow’s death has wounded us deeply, but the loss of his sons—our princes—is a greater injustice. By eliminating both heirs to the throne, our enemies sought to leave us without a leader.”
The crowd was silent. Viren could practically see their anxiety.
“It would disgrace Harrow’s memory to allow the kingdom he loved to be lost in darkness,” Viren continued. “Though it is a heavy burden, I will humbly take up the battle in Harrow’s name. I will become Lord Protector of the realm.”
The crowd gasped and Viren knelt. Slowly, with her hands trembling, Opeli reached out to place the crown on Viren’s head. He closed his eyes in anticipation, but the crown did not come.
Get on with it! he silently urged the high cleric. She would soon learn the consequences of all this disobedience. One second passed. Two. Viren’s senses heightened—there was a murmur in the crowd, which quickly turned to a commotion. His eyes sprang open when he heard a voice he recognized all too well.
“Stop the coronation,” Gren shouted for General Amaya, who was signing rapidly. “The princes are alive.”
Opeli retracted the crown and backed away from Viren, a small smile on her face.
“Finish!” Viren commanded desperately, remaining on his knees. But she shook her head.
Viren’s face flushed with humiliation. He was not one to forget such an indignity.
Rayla woke up to her hand throbbing. She repositioned herself and opened her eyes. Early morning light streamed through the trees of their camp. A few feet away, Callum was lost in concentration, examining the rune cube. He held it up to the primal stone, and a bright light shone from the cube, then faded when he pulled the cube away. Then shone when he held it to the stone, then faded when he pulled it away. Over and over. He’d hardly put that thing down since they left the lodge.
Behind Callum, the little boat they’d arrived in was bobbing up and down in the water. Rayla closed her eyes again—anything to forget about that boat. And besides, she wasn’t ready to start her day with the princes. It turned out humans were exhausting.
A few minutes later, a bright light shone very near her face. Then dimmed, then shone again. Over and over.
“This doesn’t end well for you,” she said. She pushed Callum’s hand away and opened her eyes.
The cube rolled over to Bait and the side facing him glowed yellow, illuminating his grumpy face. Rayla sat up as Callum retrieved the cube.
“Last night you thought the cube was just a worthless toy,” Callum said. “But now we know—”
“That it’s a glow toy?” Rayla teased.
“Exactly!” Callum said.
“Exactly,” Rayla repeated, still not convinced the detour to the lodge had been worth it. She stood up and her hand throbbed again. Uh-oh. “I’m going to find us some food,” she said.
When Rayla was certain she’d distanced herself from the princes, she scrambled up a pile of rocks and examined her binding. There was no question about it now—the binding was getting tighter. She massaged her wrist in an attempt to keep the blood flowing.
“Time to get this thing off,” she said.
She unfurled her blades. Handcrafted and sharpened by the elf Ethari, the blades were guaranteed to slice right through the flimsy ribbon. Carefully, making sure the blade avoided her skin, Rayla slipped it under the ribbon.
“Easy now,” she whispered to herself.
With a single, swift movement, Rayla jerked the blade upward. The ribbon held fast.
She moved the blade back and forth like a saw but found she couldn’t make even the smallest tear in the ribbon.
“What is this thing made of?” she said to no one.
“Heeellllllp!”
Rayla’s ears perked up at the call of distress. It was coming from their camp.
“Help! Helllllllpp!”
That was Callum’s voice! Rayla grabbed her blades and sprinted back to camp, leapfrogging from tree to tree. She arrived with her blades ready for action.
“What is it? What happened?” she asked. Her eyes darted back and forth in search of the threat, but Ezran and Callum were alone in the clearing. Callum was holding the primal stone in one hand. His other hand crackled with a powerful electric current. Beads of sweat poured down his forehead as static electricity sparked all around him.
“Help!” Callum yelled.
Rayla rolled her eyes and folded up her blades. Callum was in a magical predicament, but nobody’s life was in danger.
“He tried to copy this spell Claudia did, but he doesn’t know how to finish it,” Ezran said from behind a rock.
“Yeah, I only saw her do the first half,” Callum stammered. “But I’m very good at the first half.”
“Seriously?” Rayla said. “That sounds like a really good and safe idea.”
“Lecture well deserved,” Callum said. “But let’s focus on the future. What do I do now?”
Rayla scratched her head. “When you release a spell, there’s usually a word or a phrase or something in ancient Draconic …”
“Well, I don’t speak dragon,” Callum said, some exasperation creeping into his voice. “Does anyone around here speak dragon?”
“You didn’t hear Claudia say anything?” Rayla asked.
“I think she might have called me a fool when I interrupted her doing the spell?” Callum replied.
“Well, she might have been right about that,” Rayla said. “Give me a second. I know some Draconic words, just let me think …” She closed her eyes in concentration.
“You know what,” Callum said a moment later, “don’t worry about the Draconic words … I’m just going to throw the stone.”
Rayla opened her eyes. “What? No, don’t do that.”
“Yeah, I’m going to throw you the primal stone,” Callum said.
“Sounds like a good plan,” Ezran piped up from behind his rock.
“NO, that is not a good plan,” Rayla said. She waved her hands wildly in the air. “Throwing the primal stone is bad.”
“I won’t throw it; I’ll just gently toss it,” Callum said.
“No, no, no! No throwing, no tossing,” Rayla said. Why could humans not understand that magic was not a plaything?
“Tossing it …” Callum insisted. He leaned back and lobbed the primal stone into the air toward Rayla. Immediately, the spell energy dissipated and Callum fell backward.
Rayla caught the orb … and suddenly wished she hadn’t. Her hair stuck straight up, buzzing with static.
“Phew,” Callum said. “It worked. I’m okay now.”
“You’re kind of making a sizzling sound,” Ezran said to Rayla.
Rayla glared at Ezran.
“Sorry about that,” Callum said. “I guess I’m just so excited to be learning magic, I got a little carried away.” He shrugged his shoulders.
Rayla gently dropped the primal stone, and her hair settled down into its natural state. “Okay. Enough almost killing me,” she said. “The sooner we return this egg, the sooner maybe this war can end. It’s time to hit the road.” She bent down and tossed the primal stone back to Callum, then walked toward the woods.
Callum put the primal stone safely back in his bag. That could have turned out a lot worse—not that he’d admit that to Rayla. But where was she going?
“Road?” Callum said. “Why wear ourselves out walki
ng on a road, when we can let the river do the walking?” He pointed to the boat. Then Callum waggled his eyebrows up and down a few times, thinking that would really sell the idea.
“Nope.” Rayla shook her head. “Say goodbye to the boat. We go by land from here.”
“But why? The river’s going the right direction and moves much faster than we could ever go on foot. I mean, look at those legs.” Callum pointed at Ezran’s stumpy legs.
“What? I have nice legs,” Ezran said. He examined his calves.
“We’re walking, and that’s final,” Rayla said.
Callum thought Rayla was being awfully pushy about no boat. “Is there maybe another reason you don’t want to take the boat? Something you’re not telling us?” he asked.
“No. There’s absolutely no secret reason,” Rayla said, overcompensating a bit.
“So, wait. Let me get this straight,” Callum said. “Are you like this fierce, backflipping, tree-climbing, sword-stabbing elven warrior … but scared of a little splish-splashing?”
“Awwww.That’s cute,” Ezran said.
“Oh please,” Rayla said. “Fine, we’ll take the dumb boat!” She stomped over to the boat and climbed in. Then she sat on the bench with her arms crossed over her chest. “Let’s go.”
Viren paced up and down the throne room. He’d agreed to a meeting with Opeli and Amaya, and now the king’s sister-in-law was rattling off commands as if she owned the place. Gren tried to keep up.
“We must establish order, that’s what the people need—a plan. And the top part of that plan is finding the princes,” Amaya signed.
“Your strength makes me calm,” Opeli said to Amaya. “And your presence will reassure the people in the wake of this tragedy and crisis.”
Viren scowled. Opeli was really getting on his nerves. “I quite disagree. Amaya is creating confusion, allowing uncertainty to rule the day. Missing princes? An empty throne? Katolis will be paralyzed. I was prepared to return a sense of certainty to the people.”
“You’re going to solve this, Viren?” Amaya signed. “You are the one who let things come to this. The king’s death happened on your watch.”
“You speak as if I invited these assassins,” Viren said.
“I left our stronghold at the Breach—have you any idea the dangerous forces gathered at our border?”
“I’m well aware,” Viren said. That’s why they needed a leader ready to take action.
“We rushed back here, but you had already failed,” Amaya signed.
Viren seethed. It was embarrassing to have to defend himself like this. “I did everything in my power to protect King Harrow—I was willing to give my own life!” he said. His eyes smarted with tears.
“Then what went wrong, Viren? Why are you the one still here?” Amaya asked.
“Harrow went wrong,” Viren said. How could Amaya not see this? She was no stranger to their willful king. “His own stubborn ways stopped me from helping him. You know him as well as I do; his pride was more important to him than his life.”
Amaya considered this. Then she looked from the empty throne to Viren in his coronation robes. “You wanted this outcome,” she signed.
Viren’s eyes went wide. “How dare you suggest—”
“His death creates opportunity for you,” she signed.
“His death breaks my heart,” Viren said. If only Amaya could feel the ache in his chest to prove it.
Amaya glared back at him. “Then honor him. Find his children. That must be our top priority right now.”
Viren’s jaw clenched. How many times did he have to repeat this? “They’re gone, Amaya. Captured by a Moonshadow elf—if they’re not already dead, they will be soon. This is a time of crisis … An empty throne is a beacon of weakness. An invitation to destroy us. We must defend humanity against what’s coming. I can help us from there.” He pointed to the throne.
Amaya moved to block the throne and shook her head. That ache in Viren’s chest throbbed.
“I know what you think, Amaya,” Viren said, his voice rising. “You think I’m being an opportunist. But I couldn’t be more selfless in my motivation. I am a servant of Katolis. I am a servant!”
“Those are awfully nice clothes for a humble servant, Viren,” Amaya signed.
Viren stepped back. “You don’t believe me? Then you take the throne. Go ahead, sit down. I’ll support you as Queen Regent.” He waved his hand at the empty seat.
But Amaya didn’t bat an eye. “The throne stays empty until we find the boys,” she signed.
Viren threw up his hands and stormed off.
Amaya made a point to visit the Valley of Graves every time she came to the capital of Katolis. She and Gren dismounted their horses in front of a monument not far from where Harrow’s casket had burned the day before. The stone warrior was wearing full armor and riding a battle horse. Her gentle face had been lovingly sculpted, eyes closed peacefully and cropped hair spilling over her crown. One arm was extended downward as if to help up a fallen soldier.
“Hello, sister,” Amaya signed. Gren gave her some space and she lit a ritual candle, then knelt before Sarai’s statue and continued signing. “Sarai. Since before I can remember, you were my hero. The way I looked up to you, even then … you might as well have been carved out of marble. Perfect, strong, unwavering. Kind and true.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry, big sister. I failed you. I had your boys safe in my arms, but I let them slip through. But I swear to you, I will make this right. They will be found.”
She bowed again, but her prayer was interrupted by shaking ground; a horse was approaching.
Amaya sighed. Could the high mage not even leave her alone with her dead sister?
“May I light a candle?” Viren asked Amaya.
His softness startled the general; it was such a change from his attitude in the throne room. Then again, Viren had known Sarai well too—perhaps better than Amaya even, in some ways. Amaya nodded, and Viren lit a candle.
“Your sister made him better,” Viren said. “King Harrow told me he was never as strong or brave as Sarai believed him to be, but he tried every day to be stronger and braver so he could live up to what she saw in him.”
Amaya nodded. It was hard to remain angry at anyone who complimented Sarai, even if it was Viren. “She was so compassionate and patient,” she signed. “Unless of course you took the last jelly tart.”
“I only made that mistake once,” Viren said with a chuckle.
“A sweet tooth and an iron fist,” Amaya signed. And they laughed a little more, like old times.
“General Amaya,” Viren said. “I am sorry for what happened in the throne room. You helped me see the truth.”
Amaya placed her hands on her hips. “And why was that so hard?”
“I was blinded by my abiding love of our kingdom, and of humanity itself,” Viren continued, placing his hand on his heart.
Aaaaand, he’s back, Amaya thought. She signed quickly.
“Guard! Fetch a stable boy, quickly,” Gren translated. “I’ve encountered a substantial pile of bull—” Gren paused.
Amaya looked at him expectantly. “Say it,” she signed.
“Bull … droppings,” Gren finally translated.
Viren smirked, acknowledging Amaya’s joke at his expense. “Yes, yes, go ahead and make fun of me,” Viren said. “But believe me, I know the princes come first. Finding them is absolutely the top priority of the kingdom of Katolis.”
“Good,” she signed. “You see it my way. I’ll be departing at sundown with a rescue party to find the princes.”
“Of course,” Viren said. “But allow me to ask—what happens to the Breach? You said yourself how precarious the situation is. Without you there commanding the fortress, do you believe in your heart that the border will hold?”
“Make your point, Viren,” Amaya signed.
“My point is that if the Breach falls, the enemy will surge into Katolis,” Viren said. “And I can hardly
imagine the death and destruction that will ensue.”
Unfortunately, Amaya knew that Viren was correct. Holding the Breach was a matter of life and death for thousands. “What are you suggesting we do?” Amaya signed.
“You return to the border, hold it fast. It’s where you’re needed most,” Viren said. “A party of our best will be dispatched immediately to find the princes.”
Amaya grimaced but said nothing. She didn’t wholly trust Viren to rescue the princes, but she couldn’t argue with his point. She was needed at the border.
“And in case you still doubt my intentions,” Viren said, “I will task my own children, Soren and Claudia, with leading the rescue expedition.”
“I do doubt your intentions,” Amaya signed. I just don’t know what to do about it. She approached Viren, stepping into the shadow of Sarai’s statue. What would you have done, sister?
Amaya listened with her heart, then spoke up.
“I will return to the Breach. But your children won’t lead the rescue, Viren—the mission will be assigned to Commander Gren.” This plan felt like a rational compromise to Amaya. As general, she had a responsibility to the border and the people that she could not forsake for personal reasons … but if she left Gren in charge, well, he had never let her down before.
Gren translated the words out loud before the meaning sank in. “Wait … Commander Gren. That’s me,” he said. He raised his eyebrows and smiled with a mixture of surprise and pleasure at the new responsibility.
Viren glared at Gren, then Amaya. “All right.”
Rayla clung to the deck. She was sure her face was as green as moonberry leaves right now. How could the princes actually enjoy rowing and floating along like this? And Bait seemed to especially be enjoying the ride. He hung off the back of the boat, playfully batting at water bugs and dipping his snout into the water.
“Bait! You know you’re not supposed to do that,” Ezran said. “No playing in the water.” He pulled Bait back into the boat and shook his finger at him like a disappointed parent.
