by Melody Rose
“Luckily, we don’t have to start it ourselves,” I said as I patted Monte’s neck.
“Yes, but even their fire will not burn with wet wood,” Freja said as she stomped past me and led the way.
Feeling as though I had just gotten insulted somehow, I followed behind her. We walked like that, in a line, not speaking to one another. Hannan and Freja collected wood along the way, and the dragons flew overhead to see if they could spot any sort of shelter.
The snow continued, the flakes bigger than the next. They came down like rain and turned the dirt to mud. We pushed along against the cold wind, which seemed to be worse down on the ground than back up in the air. At least up there, we had the knowledge that we were moving faster whereas, on the ground, every step took effort and felt like a waste of time.
Relief came swiftly when Zulu announced she found a cave only a couple of paces north of where we were. The four humans trudged along as the trees became too thick and congested for the dragons to land. Monte kept us on course by giving us directions in my mind.
“Are you three going to be okay?” I asked Monte telepathically.
“Yes, do not worry about us, Eva,” Monte assured me. “This is not the first snowstorm we have had to hunker down in. I am glad we find a safe place for you all to wait out the storm.”
“Do we have any idea when this might let up?” I wondered.
“Unfortunately, no,” Monte replied. “It might not be safe to travel until morning.”
“Great,” I growled, unhappy about losing the rest of the day to the bad weather.
“You will let me know if you need us, yes?” Monte checked.
“Absolutely, same goes for you,” I reminded him though I also knew that there wasn’t much we could do for the three large creatures.
“We will be in touch, Eva,” Monte said, signing off.
The four of us humans reached the mouth of the cave, and Julei dashed forward, nearly diving for the entrance. She pushed herself into the deepest part, where there was still light, and huddled on the dry floor. The small girl clutched the basket to her chest, taking gulps of air.
Hannan and Freja went in next. They worked together to position the wood in a teepee structure. They piled the rest up against the cave wall and then looked at me expectantly.
“Oh crap,” I lamented. “So much for our instant fire starter.”
“Can you not do it?” Freja asked with furrowed brows.
“Uh…” I paused, unsure of how to respond. “I mean, I can create light, not fire.”
“But even light can create fire when it is hot enough,” Freja commented. “Sometimes, we use the sun and a reflective glass to start a fire.”
“That won’t do us much good now,” Hannan said as he wiped his wet glasses off with his shirt. He gestured out to the snow, which poured down in wet, white globs. “There’s no sun to be found.”
I watched Hannan put his glasses back on his face and got an idea.
“What if we did that?” I said vaguely with a point to Hannan. “The sunlight and glass thing. We can use Hannan’s glasses, and I’ll be the sunlight.”
“It is worth a try,” Hannan said with a shrug. He plucked his glasses off his face and handed them to Freja. “Since you know what you are doing.”
Freja took the glasses with a nod. She knelt down, moving her sword behind her and out of the way, and pinched the wire of the glasses between her fingers.
“Where am I aiming it?” I asked, as I took off my gloves and looked to Freja for direction.
“Right at the wood,” she told me. “I will angle the lens accordingly.”
“Okay,” I said, a little doubtful.
I called to the light and asked it to come forth. It responded accordingly and pricked at the tips of my fingers. Like vines, it coiled up my hands. While no one else could see it because of my many layers, I felt the light wind up my arms, going no further than my elbows. I clapped my hands together and aimed my finger at the pile of wood. The light shot forth like a laser beam right for the center of the sticks.
I concentrated on keeping the beam as straight and as narrow as possible. Shadows burst onto the walls, crawling away from my light. It was the first time I could see the full faces of my comrades.
Hannan squinted in the direction of the soon-to-be fire. I wondered what the scene looked like from his perspective, especially without his trusty second set of eyes.
Freja focused on the light and the glasses. She tilted them this way and that, then held them steady as she found the correct angle. The soldier held herself as still as a predator waiting to pounce on its prey.
Then there was Julei against the wall of the cave. The girl stared intently into the basket, seeming to have a conversation with the cat. For all I knew, they could be. All djers had a mental link with each other. I was curious to know what they were talking about. I found myself hoping that Julei wasn’t complaining too much to her djer.
I doubted bringing the girl along, and not for the first time. It seemed foolish to have one so young on this epic journey. I questioned what we were doing to her, putting her through this. There was no guarantee of her safety or that this would be remotely easy. In fact, my money was on the idea that it would be really difficult.
Memories of some of the children who were present for the mass shooting that killed my parents surfaced in my mind. While none of us would ever be the same after that tragedy, I often thought of those children. Forced to experience such trauma at such a young age, what had that incident done to their innocence? Stripped them of it, I was sure.
Weren’t we doing the same thing to Julei? She might be strong, but this was going to test all of us in ways we never imagined.
“Eva,” Freja said through clenched teeth. “Focus.”
“Sorry.” The word came out of my mouth automatically. I snapped my attention back to the light and pushed more intensity into it.
The cave seemed to buzz with the force of the light. It spilled through Hannan’s glasses and splattered onto the wood. However, Freja had the glass poised at just the right spot so that the heat from the light drilled a hole into one of the branches.
“Almost there,” Freja grunted. I could hear her muttered under her breath. “Come on, come on.”
The smoke came first, curling into the air. Hannan crawled onto his knees and bent down on the other side of the wood. He blew in between the slats, encouraging the fire to grow.
We worked together, the three of us. My patience grew thin as we watched smoke danced away from the wood, but still, nothing sparked. Despite how cold it was outside, I sweated under all my layers. A bead popped on my forehead and trailed down my temple, an irritating distraction.
“Stay with it,” came Julei’s weak voice from the fall wall. She coughed and strengthened her tone. “Stay with it, and the flame will come.”
Freja shot a glance at Julei and then refocused back on the lens. Hannan gave the embers one last puff before pausing to let it, and himself, breathe. I closed my eyes and imagined the fire. It pulsed with yellows and oranges. The sound crackled in my ears are the wood popped. The glow of the light radiated off the walls of the cave. I pictured the flushed faces of Julei, Hannan, and Freja as we sat around our fire.
“Ah!” Freja exclaimed, and I opened my eyes.
A few sparks illuminated at the base of the stack of wood. They caught the edges of other branches and licked the sides. Slowly but surely, our fire grew until it wrapped around the structure, swallowing it whole.
Thinking fast, Freja fed some leaves and other flammable items to coax the fire. I stood in awe, with my mouth hanging open.
“We did it,” I said in disbelief. “We actually did it! We made fire!”
8
Freja handed Hannan back his glasses, and he put them back on the exact moment I jumped in the air and did a little happy dance. The caretaker chuckled, and encouraged by his laughter, I approached him and took his hands. While Hannan’s body didn�
��t move, I wiggled his arms to make it look like he was dancing with me. That even got a small giggle from Julei.
The girl crawled forward on her hands and knees to get closer to the fire. Freja sat cross-legged next to her. She pulled out her sword and laid it across her lap. Finally, Hannan and I joined them.
It was just as I pictured, the four of us warming ourselves by the fire we managed to create together. I looked around everyone and sent a smile their way.
“What is it?” Freja asked suspiciously.
“I’m just really grateful for your help with the fire.” I gazed at Hannan and Julei. “Yours too.”
“I did not do anything,” Julei protested. Shame forced her to hang her head.
“Yes, you did,” I argued back. “I was about to give up when you told us to hang in there. Sometimes, it’s really helpful when a seer tells you you’re going to get it.”
Julei offered a small smile and pet Neeto with one hand. The cat snuggled in her lap, finally content to be out of his basket. Hannan’s butterfly, Lyla, sat on his knee as he leaned back fully on the ground. Freja decided to leave her djer, a porcupine named Bloomer, behind.
“He does not travel well,” Freja had said when I asked her about him.
I thought about my own djer, hoping he was okay. I knew I could have asked him, but I decided not to bother him. I opted to trust him that they had found safety, provided for themselves. I had to remind myself that the dragons had been surviving long before they made me their queen. Sometimes being a leader was trusting your subjects to lead themselves when needed.
The snow continued until the sky turned dark with night. We huddled in the cave and fed the fire accordingly. Sometimes we would have to fan the smoke out to the entrance. Eventually, Julei’s yawn encouraged all of us to get some sleep.
We rolled out our bedding from our packs and settled into a square around the fire. Julei fell asleep near instantly when she stretched out on her blanket. Neeto snuggled up against the back of her head, his paws clutching her hood.
“I will take first watch,” Freja offered.
“I’m not really tired,” I said in an attempt to counter her suggestion.
But the soldier shook her head. “Please, I am used to it.”
“I will go in the middle,” Hannan interjected. “Eva, you can wake up earlier.”
Something told me that there was no arguing with them, but I felt compelled to defend myself. “Okay, look, I know I’m supposedly the only one who can defeat Reon, but I don’t want any special treatment. I don’t want anyone being a martyr or not taking care of themselves because they think they have to take care of me.”
Freja pursed her lips and didn’t respond. Hannan stepped in. “We promise to treat you equally. That is why we are giving you a shift. If we were not treating you the same, we would let you slept all night.”
“Don’t you dare.” I pointed a sharp finger at Hannan.
“I will not,” Hannan insisted as he held up his hands like he was at gunpoint. He sent me a reassuring smile. Only when I saw that did I feel comfortable enough to crawl into my bedding and lay down.
“Well,” I said, unsure of myself, “goodnight, I guess.”
Sleep took a while to come. I kept hearing the wind outside and the crackle of the fire. Plus, Hannan kept snoring inconsistently. Every time I was on the edge of sleep, he would make another annoying noise. Eventually, though, I did slip into a dream.
Which began in the white space.
“Oh no,” I said as I spun in a circle. “Not again.”
“What do you mean again?” A husky voice asked. “I think this is the first time I have had the pleasure of visiting you in your dreams.”
A black speck appeared in the distance. Even before it grew into its final form, an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and a goatee dressed in black robes, I knew who it was.
“Actually, Reon,” I said with a heavy sigh, “I’d consider this a nightmare.”
“That hurts my feelings.” Reon put a long hand on his heart.
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have feelings.”
“I am human, you know,” Reon argued. “It comes with the territory.”
“Not if you’re a psychopath intent on destroying the world,” I countered with false niceness.
“You are full of zingers tonight, aren’t you?” Reon said with a slight snarl. I barely caught it, the twitch of his nose and the curl of his lip. But then his face returned to its smooth demeanor.
“Zingers?” I questioned. “What are we in? The 80s?”
“Did you forget that you and I hail from the same place?” Reon ticked a finger between the two of us and took a step forward.
I promptly took a step back. “No, I did not forget. I was just commenting on how old you are.”
“Why do we keep trading insults like this?” Reon asked with an innocent shrug.
“Because I don’t like you,” I reasoned. “Plain as that.”
“That’s a shame,” Reon said with a sigh. “Because I thought we might be friends.”
I barked out a laugh, I couldn’t help it. “What on earth makes you think I would want to be friends with you?”
“Maybe friends was too much of a stretch.” Reon folded his hands behind his back and rocked on the balls of his feet. “But maybe we could work together on a project.”
“You want to work with me?” I double-checked. I stuck my neck out a little and hunched my shoulders. “Why?”
“Because I believe we can help each other,” Reon said with another bounce. He looked like a cartoon character, whistling and avoiding eye contact when they have done something wrong.
“I’m going to stop you right there,” I said as I held out my hand like a traffic cop. “I’m doing everything in my power to stop you. There is no way I will ever help you.”
“Not even if we’re looking for the same thing?” Reon suggested with raised eyebrows.
“You’re looking for the key too?” I scoffed. “Of course you are.”
“It’s the missing piece to my impenetrable fortress,” Reon said with a frown. His eyes narrowed accusingly. “And I was rather upset to learn that a certain queen had hidden it away.”
“You bet she did,” I said, suddenly proud of Queen Irena. “Also, thanks for confirming that you’re in the hidden mountain castle thing.”
It was Reon’s turn to roll his eyes. “To be honest, it is not as though I could be hiding anywhere else.”
“Well, thanks, all the same, I appreciate it,” I said with a snarl and a smirk. “I think I’d like to wake up now and be on my way.”
“Tell me, Eva,” Reon said with the air of a teacher quizzing a student. “What do you know about this world outside of Andsdyer?”
“Enough,” I snapped back, though the real answer was absolutely nothing.
“I see,” Reon responded, his tone clearly doubtful. “There is an entire planet that you haven’t even explored. Your experience has been limited to the one kingdom, to this one land.”
The false king held up a single finger to emphasize his point. For some reason, I had the urge to bite it, hard enough to make him scream, make it bleed. I loathed this man so much. His haughty tone and warped sense of justice. The fact that he didn’t care who he hurt in his selfish pursuits. It reminded me of those sad psychopaths who enjoyed the pain of others. Who thought only of themselves and their own desires rather than the people they injured along the way.
“You see, Eva, you didn’t just fall down a well into a single kingdom. You fell into an entire universe. You have yet to learn the rules of this world,” Reon warned.
“Good thing I’m a fast learner,” I said with more confidence than I had.
Reon chuckled. “I seem to recall that you’re only good at two things: drawing and breaking promises.”
My fingers curled into fists as Reon belittled me. It was as if he knew I’d been tackling my guilt from betraying Gideonia. No, it went deeper than tha
t. His insult dove into my past, before Andsdyer was ever a known thing in my life.
I scowled and bit my tongue, refusing to antagonize him any longer. I had to focus my energy on not lashing out or crying or both.
“Your lack of knowledge it probably why you can’t figure out Irena’s clues,” Reon said as he examined his fingernails. He held them out in front of him and then rubbed them on his robes as if they actually needed buffing.
“Where do you get all of this information?” I asked, baffled. Reon opened his mouth to respond, but my frustration made me interrupt him. “No, really, because if you spent half as much energy as you do reading up on what I’m doing, you might have found the key by now.”
“Honestly, there was never a need,” Reon admitted. “There was no threat before now.”
“Good to know you think of me as a threat,” I said, unable to hide the genuine joy in my voice.
“Yes, you can take that as a compliment,” Reon allowed. “Trust me, I would not be using my resources to this degree if I didn’t believe it necessary.”
“What resources?” I prodded.
“Do you remember the harpy and her djer?” Reon said, using the memory like a taunt.
“You mean the one I destroyed?”
I swallowed at the thought of the human who had contaminated the water in Heloise’s hometown. His actions plagued a town, and the guards had trouble finding the source of it. When we caught the man and his djer, a harpy, in the act, Monte attacked and injured the man. Unfortunately, the contamination was in his blood and threatened to contaminate the crops. I pushed my gift to its limits and managed to cure the entire town at the expense of my powers and consciousness. I was knocked out for three whole days. Since then, I’d learn to heal the contamination without going unconscious, though the act still took a lot out of me.
“You mean the one you murdered?” Reon corrected with an arrogant tone.
“I didn’t kill him,” I replied, offended and shocked.
“Did you ever ask about him after you healed the land?” Reon challenged. The false king took another step towards me, but in my shock, I stood still.
