by L. R. W. Lee
Andy pushed aside the tapestry and Methuselah emitted a dim glow, allowing Andy to navigate a minefield of stone chunks that remained from his last rescue attempt. His heart ached at the sight. Sir Kay. Sir Gawain. The pair had joined the rescue effort, and Abaddon murdered them with an explosion that scattered their stone pieces everywhere.
Swallowing his grief, he tiptoed to where the cells began. Seeing the empty pedestal where his stone instructors once greeted him in high spirits made his shoulders slump. But with no time to mourn their passing, he extinguished Methuselah’s light before sneaking a look around the corner to his left.
Andy rose on the balls of his feet and padded to the first cell. Empty. So was the next one. And the next.
“Father,” he whispered.
Silence.
He searched the opposite side of the corridor with the same result, his concern deepening with each empty cell. Only four left. His angst morphed.
Andy looked up as he approached the stairs. At the top, the silhouette of four bird-like legs punctuated a strip of light creeping beneath the heavy dungeon door. Two guards.
A muffled moan. What was that? Andy’s heart leapt. He stepped to the cell he thought the sound had come from. Methuselah’s light caught a mop of tangled gray hair on the floor in a back corner. “Father! I found you!” He attempted to control his excitement with a whisper.
The last time he had seen this man had been as he, Mom, and the company departed Castle Avalon in search of the griffins. Seeing his current condition made Andy’s throat constrict. He longed to hug him. To tell him how much he loved him.
Andy fumbled in his pouch for the golden key. He unlocked the cell and rushed inside. Father lay on a pile of moldy straw. His legs bore deep gashes, his face was covered in dark bruises, and his clothes were tattered. And he reeked.
Andy felt anger well up. Abaddon will pay for this and everything else he’s done to him. Andy knelt then nudged the man’s shoulder and tried to rouse him. “Father?”
Father’s eyes opened a crack and then grew wide as he recognized Andy. He sat up and engulfed him in an embrace. “Son.” He didn’t bother to wipe the tears that began streaming from his eyes.
Father’s hug reduced Andy to tears as well and he reveled in the comfort.
But sounds from the top of the stairs brought reality back. Andy dried his face on his sleeve. “Are you hurt? I brought dragon tears.”
“My legs.” Father’s voice wavered as he tried to collect himself.
Andy applied several drops of medicine to the affected areas on Father’s legs and face. A few minutes later, Andy helped steady him as he rose and tested his extremities, taking tentative steps around the cell. Father’s chest heaved as his tears continued, but his gait improved.
“It’s okay, Father. I’m here. I’m going to rescue you.” Andy had never seen the man so emotional. What did they do to him?
Father shook Andy’s reassurances away.
“Are you ready?”
Father nodded, finally swiping at the torrent of tears. He retreated to the corner and unburied a gold envelope from the straw before joining Andy at the door.
“What’s that?” Andy asked.
“Later.”
Andy glanced upward. The shadow of bird legs under the door had increased from four to six.
“Come on.”
The pair hustled back through the corridor and disappeared behind the tapestry. Andy grabbed the book and they walked through the tunnel, around the castle’s footprint, and up the final flight of wooden steps. Father’s gait continued to improve.
Daisy. Sophocles. Andy called to his friends, setting in motion the plan he’d hatched with them.
“We’re ready,” Daisy assured telekinetically.
“Indeed we are,” the griffin assured.
Sophocles had intercepted communication on the whisper stream between Abaddon and his evil master in Hadession. If everything worked, the two would be a convincing imitation of their evil master and the dialogue would persuade Abaddon and Fides they were being summoned. With the evil duo gone, Andy and company would have the opportunity to escape unopposed.
Andy depressed the keystone to the tunnel door and the pair exited. The castle wall hid them from the moon’s prying and Andy closed the door before heading left.
They skidded to a stop as the cobblestones of the Cavalry Training Center came into view, however. No less than fifty zolt had congregated, and Dagon, Abaddon’s chief lieutenant, squawked orders.
Crap!
Father tapped Andy on the shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Tucking the gold letter in his ratty tunic, he motioned for Andy to follow. Falling to his belly, Father slithered to the bank and disappeared with a plunk. Andy put the book under his arm and crawled after. Surprise hit him when he discovered that the Crystal River flowing around the island had eroded the bank and left an overhang.
How’d Father know about this?
Andy held his breath as he dropped into the chilly water, gripping the book with one hand and the overhanging ground with the other. He tried to stay close to the island in the coursing water, but when his hold slipped, he went under and nearly lost hold of the book. Andy felt a strong grip on his tunic and was wrenched back toward the bank. He choked back a cough as he broke the surface. Father’s eyes had grown large as saucers.
He’s strong for a guy over five hundred years old.
Father had Andy lead after that.
They inched along. Several minutes later, Father tapped Andy on the shoulder and motioned to stop. He took a firm hold of the bank, sucked in a breath, and dipped under the rushing water. He repeated the motion several times and finally turned to Andy, smiling. Andy sniffed the air. He smells better! Andy gave a thumbs-up and smiled.
At last Andy spotted the rest of their party sitting like statues where he’d left them under the opposite end of the service bridge. No time for celebration as Andy puzzled out how to cross the rapid current without being seen or heard. He hated monkey bars because he always fell off halfway across, but it seemed the only solution.
Andy pointed up at the bridge’s twenty-foot expanse and mimed his plan to Father. I hope he can do this.
Father nodded.
Andy sucked in a deep breath and wedged the book between his belt and body, praying it would hold as he crossed the span. He could barely breathe. He inched up the bank far enough to insert his hands between two planks near shore then let his feet swing—the book held. The momentum propelled him forward and he grabbed the next plank, picking up several splinters in the process. Blocking out the discomfort, he added his other hand before reaching for the next board. Halfway across, his mind started playing tricks as it harped on past failures. Andy imagined the water roiled more vigorously beneath him.
MiniMe, a little help!
“Focus on the pain in your hands,” his inneru coached.
Andy concentrated on his palms and fingers, savoring their screams as the splinters dug deeper. Captain Ladilas guided his feet to solid ground several minutes later. Andy dislodged the book, then bent over and panted quietly as Alden and Hannah crawled around the soldiers to join him.
Seconds later, a nasally shout echoed overhead, making everyone freeze. More squawks followed before a horde of flapping wings took to the air. Whew, they haven’t discovered us. I hope they’re joining Abaddon and Fides. Go, Daisy and Sophocles!
The company waited for silence to return before the King began his trapeze act. He bobbled and nearly lost his grip, and Andy inhaled sharply. Father clenched his jaw, willing himself into rhythm. Whew. Father gave Andy a wink when his feet touched shore, although he also rubbed tender fingers.
A quick check of the foggy, moonlit sky revealed nothing, but there was no telling where their enemy might be. He knew zolt could see amazingly well even in these conditions, and the frown on Captain Ladilas’ face underscored the concern.
The company crept up the bank and made a beeline for the
trees. “Where are we going?” Father whispered.
That’s right, he doesn’t know. “Castle Ferrin,” Andy answered in a hushed tone.
Father’s hand flew to his chest. That might not be the most welcome news. As far as Andy knew, Father hadn’t been back since his parents exiled him as a power-hungry youth.
The company darted between clumps of trees on quiet feet. Several minutes later Sergeant Hammond held up a hand and pointed as they prepared to race for a copse of trees. The breeze had pushed a hole in the fog and the shadows of four zolt appeared overhead.
The bird patrol passed and everyone exhaled.
Halfway there. Andy glanced over to see Father rubbing a hand over his heart but had no opportunity to ask what he was thinking.
“I sense evil approaching, fast! I think it’s the bellicose!” Hannah whispered urgently.
Her warning set the sergeants in action, forming a defensive wall around the King. Alden paired up with Hannah, taking a ready position.
Captain Ladilas had never experienced the creature, so Sergeant Hammond instructed in hushed tones, “Only Andy’s blade can touch it.” The captain nodded and joined the ranks without comment.
Andy stood in front of the officers’ wall and moved his blade in an eight pattern as he waited for his adversary. True to form, it didn’t take long. The furry panther-man bolted from the undergrowth, dagger raised in its right hand. It belted out a loud roar, dripping saliva from long canines.
The creature had caught Andy off-guard during their last altercation, and he anticipated it would use a similar tactic. Sure enough. The second it planted its hind feet and leapt, Andy stepped left. Movement around Andy slowed as he followed the beast’s path and landed a blow of Methuselah’s hilt to the back of its head. Andy pivoted as the menace fell to the ground, then impaled it through its back with Methuselah. A strangled growl bubbled up. But as it had previous times, the beast vanished seconds later, leaving only a white silhouette where it fell.
Time resumed its normal pace for Andy and everyone ping-ponged gaping looks.
“Yesss!” Andy sounded like a snake, extending the word in a hush. He pumped his arm in victory.
“Whoa, that was amazing,” Alden congratulated quietly.
“Hannah’s alert gave me the time I needed.” The compliment brought a smile to the girl’s face. “I just knew it was going to leap at me again. It succeeded last time, but not today.” What will it do next time? Andy didn’t allow himself to dwell on that.
The rest of the company, as if released from a spell, surrounded Andy with pats on the back. Some inspected the white silhouette, shaking their heads.
“Well done, Son,” Father marveled in a hush, beaming with pride. “You’ve become quite the swordsman.”
“Thanks.” Andy fought the urge to divert the praise as he so often did. Instead, he pulled back his shoulders and held up his chin.
Rustling in the foliage quashed the hushed celebration. The altercation had drawn unwanted attention, and three zolt stepped toward the company. Alden, Hannah, and Captain Ladilas made quick work of them. Two more zolt thudded to the ground before Andy realized bows had been drawn. But the five enemy were the calm before the storm, for a cloud of zolt materialized in the sky, diving toward them.
Sergeant Rosser picked off four more as they attempted to land. Hammond hit five and Albin another four. But at least two dozen enemies made it through the rain of arrows.
Andy paired up with the elven-framed Rosser. He engaged a burly brute who towered a good two feet above him. The vulture-man cackled as it realized who it fought. “If it isn’t the future sovereign himself. Abaddon’ll pay me handsomely for your head.” The muscular enemy thrust his sword with an overly long arm.
“Sorry, but you won’t be cashing in tonight.” Andy anticipated and sidestepped.
Rosser whirled and brought his blade down on two zolt, then pivoted, bringing it around and impaling Andy’s adversary through its side. The zolt’s eyes went wide before it flopped to the ground in slow motion.
“Thanks, partner!” Andy shouted.
“My pleasure!”
Andy hardly heard the reply over the clash of Methuselah against the broadswords of two more enemies. Time slowed for Andy and he quickly cut the pair down. He slashed and dodged, sidestepped and thrust, downing another four.
In the melee, Andy spotted Father and the captain battling a pair of zolt, Hannah and Alden another three, and Albin and Hammond two more.
It felt like the enemy just kept coming; as soon as Andy dispensed with one foe, two more attacked. His whirlwind self cut down another eight with efficiency. He raised Methuselah, prepared for the next attack, but it never came.
His chest heaved as time resumed its normal pace, and he gulped air. The company gathered and surveyed the field. Forty dead zolt.
“They knew we rescued you, Majesty,” Captain Ladilas panted.
Father grinned. “But we withstood their attempt to recapture me.”
“Well done, everyone,” Andy congratulated.
“Just doing our job,” Sergeant Albin replied.
“Let’s get back to the castle,” Captain Ladilas commanded. “Hopefully these goons didn’t have time to alert their cohorts.” No one had to remind the company to keep quiet as they walked the rest of the way.
Father put a hand on Andy’s shoulder and kept glancing over, beaming as they set out once more. But Andy watched him undergo a transformation the closer they got to their destination: he started holding his stomach, moved on to rubbing the back of his neck, and was wringing his hands by the time they reached the pile of brush where they’d hidden the pinnace. Father gave Andy a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Their boat ride proved uneventful, and Mermin was the first to reach them as they strode into the courtyard of Castle Ferrin. Mermin’s been waiting for us. Andy had never seen the wizard so emotional as he enveloped the King in a hug. It seemed mutual.
Everyone was on hand to offer welcome and congratulations.
Hans insisted, “I’d like to give you a good once-over, Majesty.”
Father raised splintered hands. “Andy needs some attention as well.”
As the enthusiasm of welcomes waned, Father gasped in surprise. His eyes were fixed on the heart of Oomaldee sending up its white plume. “How?”
“Pwince Andwew fixed it,” Mermin informed.
Father’s eyes grew wide. “Tell me.”
Andy grinned. “Merlin hid all the parts to the heart in my world. I had to find them and figure out how to put it back together before I came this time. As soon as I plugged it in, the rust evaporated and that started.” Andy indicated the white vapor.
Father’s jaw dropped and his shoulders slumped. He exhaled as if a heavy weight had been released. Mermin patted him on the back.
“With the lateness of the hour, tales of our adventure can keep until morning,” the captain informed, dismissing his men.
“Let’s get you two checked out,” Hans encouraged.
As they entered the treatment room minutes later, Andy handed the healer the vial of dragon tears he recovered. Hans received it with a broad smile. He marveled at Father’s health despite the inhumane treatment he’d suffered. Hans cleaned Father’s bruises and wounds, bandaged Andy’s arm, and pulled numerous slivers from their hands. As Andy downed the last of several vile concoctions to ward off infection, Marta interrupted with a tray overflowing with tasty treats. At length, Father and Andy thanked Hans and bid him goodnight before heading toward the royal chambers.
But as they reached the third floor, Father froze.
CHAPTER NINE
Father
Their rooms lay just the other side of the door they now stood before. The soldier standing sentry moved to open it, but Father waved him off.
The King rubbed the middle of his forehead, eyes closed.
“Do you want to talk?”
Father nodded, turned, and sat down on the top step. A
ndy followed.
“This is overwhelming. It’s the first time I’ve set foot here since I was exiled. Through that door…through that door is where…”
“I know. Imogenia told me. I’m actually sleeping in her old room.”
Father locked eyes with Andy.
“I think they’ve made up your parents’ room for you.”
The King gave a slow nod. “I was so foolish.” He sat in silence for a minute. “All these years, working through my actions…I thought I’d be ready for this moment if it ever came. But now—”
“I remember what you told me about being afraid. I can be gripped by it or recognize it and take control.”
The corners of Father’s mouth inched up as he remembered. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re right, son. I am afraid. And more time isn’t going to change anything.”
The pair rose and the soldier opened the door. They stepped into the secluded corridor and Andy heard the door latch behind. The space now felt cold and foreboding. Fog-choked moonlight struggled through the shutters as if trying to lighten the mood. They walked past the first door, which was Mermin’s chambers, slowed as they passed Father’s old room, and stopped before Andy’s door. The silence made the King’s labored breathing all the more obvious. Andy touched Father’s arm, but instead of calming him, it made him jump.
“Sorry.”
Father forced a smile.
“Want to come in?”
The King’s eyes darted between Andy and the door handle. At length he nodded and Andy turned the knob. Father ran a hand through his disheveled hair before following him inside. His shoulders slumped as he surveyed the room, his eyes stopping near the end of Andy’s bed. His arms blindly sought support, and Andy stepped close.
“Maybe we should talk in your room,” Andy suggested.
Father nodded, not loosening the arm wrapped around Andy’s shoulders.
“Word travels fast.” Father nodded toward dancing flames in the fireplace as they entered his room. Shadows bowed and curtsied from the wall sconces.
