by K. Ferrin
Magicless thought he might have to sit down he was laughing so hard, but he suppressed the urge. “It’s not water. It’s some kind of smooth black stone,” he managed.
“Micah, have you finally lost your mind? Open your eyes, man! There are waves and—”
“Are there, Ashier? Do you see me moving up and down with the waves as they crash in?”
“No…But the waves are all around you, and the wind, too. How are you out there?”
“Put your hand in and call to Anet and Freen if you don’t believe me. They won’t come because this is not water. It’s stone. It’s one of Amentis’ illusions, surely, but it doesn’t work on me. We can simply walk across. Come on, try it.” Magicless gestured for them to join him. They hesitated, but Tredon squared his shoulders and stepped out into the shallows.
Tredon’s wince as he stepped out turned to a small smile that then grew to a wide grin. “It’s strange. I see the waves, see the water, see it splashing madly in the wind, feel it splashing onto my arms and my chest and feel the wind ripping around me. But the ground is solid under my feet. It’s not moving. He’s right, we can walk across.”
“He’ll see us coming. He’ll send Ragers before we ever get to the tower. He’s probably seen us already,” Elisa said.
“He’s sent no one out to confront us,” Magicless said. “He’s probably distracted by…” he cut off that thought with a vicious shake of his head. No. Don’t think about it. She’s fine. She can take care of herself. “We’d be able to see them from here if he did,” he continued more soberly. “We’ll cross under the cover of night. Maybe he won’t be able to see us then.”
“And then what?” Ashier shot back. “We have no idea how to get in, what the layout of his fortress is, what beasts he houses within it for protection. We have no idea what to do once we get there.”
“We’ve had no idea what we’re doing from the moment we left Aclay, and it hasn’t stopped us yet. We’ll figure it out. We always do. Now come on, let’s get some rest while we can,” he said as he moved back into the trees. “Who knows when we’ll be able to sleep next?”
[ 30 ]
Throbbing.
No...not throbbing, exactly. It was more like...like something she’d known her whole life. Something that always brought comfort. The earliest sound she’d ever heard. Mother. It reminded her of her mother. It reminded her of love. A heartbeat. That’s what it was. The throbbing was like a heartbeat, tinged with green, not red. But it was coming from outside her, not inside. Her heart was synched to that external rhythm, and with every thud the green surrounding her intensified and then lightened, intensified and lightened.
She couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or closed, so she tried to open them anyway. She was in a cavernous room, seated at a long table. There was food in front of her, delicious-looking food, and suddenly she was ravenous. She reached a hand out to take a large drumstick from the plate and was startled to see shackles at her wrists and a long chain dangling down below the table.
She stared at the shackles for a long time, trying to remember something important—something she knew she’d told herself again and again not to forget, but she’d forgotten anyway.
She lifted her eyes from the chain and peered around in confusion.
Why am I so hungry?
The room looked like any dining room in any other house she’d ever seen, though much bigger and much more opulently adorned. She was seated at one end of a long table, and at the far end there was a man. A handsome man. He had long white hair cascading around his shoulders in gentle curls. He had a slender nose that ended in a fine point above the bow of a perfectly shaped upper lip. Full lips, richly red, eminently kissable, hovered over a square jaw with a dimple centered in the chin.
Kissable. Kissable things made her think of something. Something that made her feel deeply sad. Something she was missing. Someone. Someone she was missing, not something.
“Have a bite, my dear. You must be quite hungry.”
The man’s voice broke through her wandering thoughts, and his voice matched his features—deep and gentle and handsome. It sounded like a caress. Persuasive, too. She raised the drumstick to her mouth but froze as she spotted a small black spider at its tip. Her eyes snapped into focus, zeroing in on the spider. She was supposed to remember something…
“There is nothing to remember, my dear.” The man’s voice was soft, wrapping her in safety, wellbeing, and love. “Remember, darling, you are ill. The physiq is working to heal you but you’ve taken to falling asleep and wandering, if you recall. Please, eat, it will help make you better.”
His words were so persuasive. Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked from the man to the spider and then back again to the man. She had the strangest and strongest feeling that she should not eat even one bite of the food before her, but the kind man, so handsome, so gentle...his words made sense. And she was so hungry.
“Tell me, please, who are you?” She asked, and her own voice sounded far away.
The man stopped, a delicate forkful of food halfway to his mouth, and his expression hardened. He set his fork on the table and rose slowly to his feet. He was very tall. Far taller than...who? He approached her, knelt in front of her.
“I am the king, my dear. You are my queen. We have ruled here for many years. Together we’ve built a kingdom unrivaled in all of history,” he said.
“I’m a queen?” She whispered. That didn’t feel right. She wasn’t a queen, she was...a mage?
“You are my queen,” he said again, lifting one of her hands to his full lips. As his lips pressed against her palm she saw another face—a very different face, one she loved dearly. Her gaze shimmered, lifted, and a man held in a cage bolted to the far wall came into view. An ugly man, but one who stared at her with compassion and empathy. She knew that strange, dear face. All at once, the memory slammed back to the forefront of her mind.
“No, I remember. No!” She yanked her hand back from the beautiful man, shot to her feet, and ran toward the exit. The chain fed out its full length and yanked her short, throwing her off her feet. She landed hard, knocking the wind out of her body and banging her head so hard she saw stars. “Micah. His name is Micah. Micah, Micah...” She said his name over and over again in a chant as fast as she could shape the word.
The man sighed, hanging his head, and then rose to his feet. He looked at her kindly. “Forget about him, girl. I can give you anything you’ve ever wanted. You will be my queen, and together we will rule Dorine Lillith. You will become immortal, and walk always at my side with my family beside us.”
“In darkness. And rule over destruction,” she spat at him.
He shrugged his broad, elegant shoulders. “Semantics, my dear. Light or dark, together, we will rule.”
“You will give me anything, you say? Give me my freedom, then. And his,” she said, thrusting her chin toward Noz. “Give me the freedom of all Dorine Lillith from your treacherous domination.”
“Treacherous domination? What is this domination of which you speak? I spend all my days in this lonely tower on this lonely isle dreaming of nothing but my family, and of finding someone I can share my home with. How is that treacherous domination?”
He strode to her side and helped her to stand, his touch firm but gentle. Only kindness showed in his eyes. She’d expected a raging lunatic, a terrifying, demonic spectacle—instead Amentis was beautiful, gentle, and well mannered. His words soothed. They tempted. They were so hard to resist. She looked at the cage, at the malformed man who huddled there. He was ugly, but he was also kind, good. Evil wears many faces, a little voice at the back of her mind whispered, and things are not always as they seem.
“Tell that to the Map Maker you’ve had hanging in that cage for who knows how long without food or water. Tell that to all those women you’ve buried out in the canyonlands, and explain that to the families who’ve had to live without their mothers, their sisters, and their partners. Without their children
!”
“I had to live ages without my mother, my father, and my friends!” Amentis shouted, slamming a fist into the table, violently shaking the dishes that rested there. “Why should their needs outweigh my own? Why should I go without while everyone out there,” he motioned vaguely toward the south, “they get to have all that they want? Why shouldn’t I get to have my family, too?” He finished gently, his voice back to a gentle purr as he stroked her hair back from her face. He stared deeply into her eyes as he pulled her close. Her breasts pressed into his chest and she so longed to kiss the adorable divot in his top lip. She longed to give herself over to his embrace. Such a beautiful man, his wants so…normal. So reasonable.
She desperately tried to hold Micah’s face in her mind as Amentis led her back to the table. Micah…Micah…She chanted to herself. It was so hard to keep focused. So hard to hate a man who only wanted to be loved, and who so passionately loved her. She knew that she had a job to do, but what was it? It hardly seemed to matter now.
Amentis’ emerald green eyes grew softer, and then larger. She could clearly see her own features reflected there, as if she stared into a mirror. In them was a world of comfort, of warmth, a place without struggle, without pain. A place where no one died, where she could rule forever beside this beautiful man, her powers intact or no. The thudding heartbeat consumed her and she was lost again to the green.
Eventually, she broke their gaze to stare around the room. There were others—people she did not know, every seat at the table occupied by glamorous men and perfectly coiffed women, laughter all around her. A man by her side clasped one of her hands in his own and laughed heartily at something one of the other guests had said, patting her hand in friendly reassurance, much like her own grandfather had done when she was a small child. Across from him was a beautiful older woman, her gray hair still lush and piled in complex whirls high upon her head. The two spoke with warm familiarity and rich humor.
“Who are you?” Alekka asked in wonder.
“Oh, my darling girl!” the woman said, her green eyes lingering on Alekka. “I am Lynna, Amentis’ mother. And that dashing gentleman at your side is my husband.”
The clinking of glasses and forks on plates surrounded her. The room was comfortable and warm, cozy even, filled with friends and family and affection. Alekka smiled as music wafted through the air, mingling with the warm smell of fresh-baked bread. Her stomach rumbled loudly and Lynna laughed gently at the sound. She motioned to someone behind her.
“Have some wine, my dear. It is, after all, a day of celebration.” Lynna said.
“Some wine, my Queen?” A voice asked at her shoulder. A servingman leaned across her and waited for her response.
“Oh, yes, please,” she said, and waited as he filled her glass. She was starving. Parched, too. She lifted the wine glass to her lips, letting the warm smell of red grapes and sunshine fill her nostrils. She waited a moment, thinking there was something she’d been trying to remember, and then took a long swallow of wine. The taste of deep, ripe cherry burst wetly against her tongue. It wound smoothly down her throat and she reached for a large drumstick on the plate in front of her.
She paused at the sound of sudden clatter and realized there was a shackle at her wrist. When had that been put there...? Silence filled the room and she looked up, expecting to see surprise on her friends’ faces to see her shackled so, but the only figures at the table with her were long-dead skeletons. Lynna’s clothing hung loosely on her bony frame, her lipless mouth grinning, her empty eye sockets staring over at Alekka. The only other living person at that table was her husband, and he smiled warmly at her, wrapping her in an embrace. He unlocked the shackles at her wrists and spun her into a dance around and around the table. Some small part of her knew she should be screaming and fighting, but instead she laughed as she looked up into his handsome face, breathless with both desire and from the movement of the dance.
His expression was triumphant. Exultant. “Welcome, my dear,” he said, “my mother and father are so excited to welcome you to our home and to our family. They cannot wait for us to bring them grandchildren. They so miss the laughter of playing children running through the halls,” he continued, leaning down to press his lips against her own. She leaned into him, giving herself entirely to their kiss.
“I cannot wait as well, my lord. I so long to bring joy back to your home. And to have a family with you,” Alekka breathed as he released her lips from his own. She stared into his beautiful, emerald-green eyes and felt weak-kneed at the passion she saw there.
“That is all I’ve ever wanted, my dear. To bring back my family who were all taken from me when I was far too young, and to have a family with a woman like you.” His face swam closer and his lips softly brushed hers once more. She let her eyes fall closed and she leaned into him, forgetting everything that wasn’t her king.
[ 31 ]
The lake crossing went smoother than Magicless thought possible. His friends remained distracted by the raging waters they alone saw for the entirety of the crossing. Each was pale and wide eyed, and they all kept their eyes glued to him, assuming that if something changed, he’d be the first to know. He suspected that at least Tredon was still convinced the waves were real and that he’d somehow acquired the ability to float all of them on water.
They’d waited until the early hours of the morning before venturing out onto the smooth stone surrounding Nox Noctis tower. They had smeared mud on their faces and huddled in their dark robes to make themselves harder to see. The tower was lit up like a beacon from within, shining brilliant in the empty landscape and the inky blackness of night. Hardly the domicile of a wizard trying to hide or preparing for battle. Magicless didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Was Amentis so confident he felt no need to even prepare for their coming? Or was it some trap they walked toward? His feelings bounced from triumphant confidence to despair and fear—for himself and his companions, but mostly for Alekka—with every breath.
What was Amentis doing to her? Was he doing to her whatever it was he’d done to all those women they’d found disposed of in the canyons? Was she, even now, drained of power and lying dead somewhere, waiting for her body to be dumped in some mass burial? He pushed that thought away as quickly as he could. In that direction, only madness waited.
They kept as low to the ground as they could and sprinted as fast as they could across that wide-open expanse. They encountered no guards as they went, but as they drew closer Magicless could make out shapes in the windows. In one, for a moment, he felt certain he’d seen Alekka, but she was gone by the time he looked again. She’d looked beautiful, wearing a gown of deep emerald green with her hair swept up in a complex twist on her head. He wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it or not, and he focused back on the task in front of him, hoping that she was alright.
There didn’t seem to be any guards around the tower. They’d crept almost all the way around before they found an opening in the vast wall—a hole hatched with thick bars and heavily overgrown with shrubs and trees. Though barred, the spaces between the bars were large enough for a horse to walk through. A dank smell thickened the air of the tunnel—sour sweat and urine and waste. It made his eyes water and he pulled his cloak up over his face to try to block it out.
They were standing in a naturally formed cave. Heavy, jagged teeth jutted down from the ceiling by the dozens, some of them so large they hit the bottom of the cave. Still more formations shot toward the ceiling from below, meeting up with those reaching down from above until they resembled the tightly clenched maw of a dog, forcing the group to squeeze through narrow gaps or scramble through spaces left where one of the teeth had shattered ages ago. The ground was littered with rubble—rock that had fallen from the roof and shattered on the ground below. There was a constant rustle above them, making Magicless think with a repressed shudder about the giant bat-like men they’d fought and killed long months ago.
It was quiet—the dripping water and the rustlin
g above the only sound apart from their breathing and the scuffle of their steps. The cavern was so large Magicless could not see the top. As they travelled deeper into the cave the stench grew stronger, and something about it made the hairs on Magicless’ forearms stood on end.
They traveled for a mile or more up the dark cave, seeing and hearing nothing as they moved. The floor of the cavern began shifting upward and became increasingly narrow. At the head of the cavern they found a ramp that vanished up into shadow. Deep canals lined both sides of the ramp, which seemed to be the source of the smell. Clearly the sewer system of the tower, a steady stream of dark sludge made its way down the dual channels, vanishing into a huge crevasse at the far side of the cave.
Their eyes watered as they pushed up the ramp, clustered tightly together. It brought them into another cavern topped and walled with darkness. Magicless gasped aloud, stuttering to a stop.
This cavern, too, was naturally worn from stone. But unlike the cavern out of which they’d just come, this contained the work of hands. The walls were lined top to bottom with narrow wired cages hanging from chains. There were hundreds of these cages as far as he could see, and in each hung a naked woman dangling from her wrists, which were shackled to a ring at the top of the cage. Their heads hung forward or lolled backward on their necks, and their legs were stained with their own refuse. The cages had no bottoms, and the source of the sludge slowly leaking down the ramp and into the cavern below became apparent.
Magicless heard a choked sound from his left as Leali came into view of the cages. She shoved him aside and moved quickly toward the closest cage. She motioned frantically to the others to join her.
“Catch her when she falls,” she whispered urgently.
