by L. R. W. Lee
“Copacetic,” Royston murmured upon seeing the transformation of the landscape before them.
“You’ve been hanging out with Jax for too long,” Chieftain Cedrica chided.
“I heard that,” the hippie centaur quipped from behind. He bore Father’s body, which had been wrapped in bedrolls. He triple-checked the lashing as they paused to survey the landscape. Imogenia hovered next to Houston, who carried Mom. Twyford carried Mermin.
Moonlight reflected off a sea of fluffy clouds that seemed in no hurry to pass. The black and gray treetops stood motionless. Animals did not stir. It seemed nature itself paused to pay its respects.
The company made it to the base of Mount Mur Eyah just before the sun awoke. Pink sky highlighted the mural of a new day. The sight filled Andy with a mix of sadness and wonder. What does the future hold? Alden and Hannah seemed to mirror his thoughts judging from the jumble of expressions crossing their faces.
Without warning, Abaddon materialized before them in his seven-headed dragon form, Fides at his side. Three of the dragon’s heads jerked back when he spotted Andy.
The company drew their weapons.
“Come back from the dead have you, prince?” two mouths crowed. “Why, I saw Razen raise that dagger to you.” The revelation didn’t surprise Andy, but he chose not to reply. He knew Abaddon had seen everything on their trip via the turned steward. Andy’s warning had gone unheeded by Father.
Abaddon continued, “Pixie got your tongue? No matter.” The dragon started to pace, studying the group. “Got yourself some help from the horsies I see.” Two of the dragon’s tongues tsked. “I thought you were more skillful than that.”
“What do you want?” Andy growled.
“Well, well,” he taunted. “You can still speak.” The beast swaggered between the company and his dark mage. “My faithful servant told me I’d find you near here.”
“And who would that be?”
“Ah, you must think of Razen as an enemy and traitor. He has been executing my plans brilliantly.”
Andy bit back the urge to indulge his fury.
“Seems you’ve succeeded in breaking that nasty curse. I have to say, it’s definitely improved visibility. But he also mentioned a little trick you tried to play on me. Really now. Sending out a group disguised as you so my troops wouldn’t know which was which.”
Andy caught Abaddon’s unknowing confession: Razen told him about just one company?
“Oh, don’t worry. They’ve been dealt with.”
Andy and the others inhaled sharply, making Abaddon roar with laughter.
Abaddon scanned the group. “You seem to be a bit short on members.” He motioned toward Jax, Houston, and Twyford.
Andy stood stoically, unwilling to give the enemy the satisfaction of seeing his raw emotions.
“You may have cheated death, but your father wasn’t so fortunate. Shame.” The dragon shook several of its heads in scorn. “Razen did a good number on him. Yes, he’s been busy with that dagger of his.”
Andy seethed at the continued mocking but bit his tongue and remained silent.
“And then he must have turned it on—oh, let’s see…” Abaddon scanned the group. “…your mommy—and that bumbling wizard. Yes, Razen has potential.”
Why would he think that? Razen didn’t touch Mom or Mermin. Things didn’t add up.
Cedrica stomped a hoof. “If you’re quite done, we’ll be on our way.”
“Little lady, did I say I was done?” the dragon’s tone came out saccharine sweet.
“Well, you are,” the chieftain declared. “Fire!”
Captain Ladilas echoed her command, and a torrent of arrows sailed through the air.
Unfortunately, Fides waved his hands and every last projectile froze in flight then dropped harmlessly to the ground.
Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. The dragon shook four of its heads. “Is that any way to treat me when all I want is to have a civil conversation with the prince?”
Fides directed a bolt of lightning at Cedrica and she fell to the ground, unmoving.
No one flinched.
“Now, Andy, you are the only obstacle between me and complete domination of Oomaldee.”
Andy’s mind whirled. We can’t fight Fides. I’ve got to get us out of here! He remembered a time back home when zolt had attacked the house. “To the hall closet!” Mom had commanded, and Andy had found himself inside. Another time she had declared, “To Oomaldee,” and he’d been taken there. I’ve no idea how she did it, but I pray this works!
As Fides raised an arm, Andy yelled, “Provision shall be made! Company, to Castle Ferrin!”
It happened in slow motion. A single, pure white bolt of energy burst from the dark mage’s extended fingertips. It lengthened as it reached for him. Just before it struck, a whirlwind cocooned the company and sucked them into its swirl. An ethereal sensation engulfed Andy’s body and a black tunnel enveloped him, tightly squeezing every inch of his form. The next thing Andy knew was hard ground meeting his face—the grass covering it offered no cushion. He gasped for breath as he sat up and surveyed the courtyard.
It worked. We made it. But how? The magnitude of what just happened—and what could have ensued if it hadn’t—struck Andy, and he brought a shaky hand to his forehead.
Alden, Hannah, centaurs, and soldiers righted themselves from where they’d sprawled on impact. Their mouths gaped as they took in the new surroundings. A few wondered:
“What—?”
“How?”
“We’re…”
Fourteen pairs of eyes came to rest on Andy.
“I’m not sure how. I just asked.” It was the only thing that came to mind.
Captain Ladilas gave Andy a long look before noticing Cedrica’s motionless body nearby. The jolt of recognition spurred everyone into action. Royston checked his chieftain. Jax, Houston, and Twyford scrambled to restore dignity to their royal cargoes.
Andy wasn’t surprised when Royston shook his head a minute later. “She made the ultimate sacrifice. That mage killed her.” Glancing at his comrades, the centaur set his jaw and affirmed the commitment Lord Jayden had made: “We will help you. We will avenge her death along with that of your king.”
Jax, Houston, and Twyford each pounded a clenched fist to their chest.
Imogenia swooped into the courtyard seconds later and halted next to Mom’s form. “Good. She’s okay.” The spirit drew a hand to her chest and exhaled.
“How can you say that?” Andy objected.
“The Ancient One listened to you and granted your plea.”
The Ancient One?
Andy didn’t have time to ask before Imogenia stopped before him. She locked eyes for a long moment and seemed to be considering. Without comment she bent her knee and bowed. “My king, to you I pledge my loyalty and service.”
Andy stared. It was the last thing he’d expected.
Imogenia hovered, not moving. Something about her posture told Andy she’d stay that way until he released her. She means it. Imogenia had never respected him. Realization dawned.
“Uh…rise.”
Imogenia didn’t wait for Andy to issue instructions. “Majesty, with your permission. You, you, and you.” She pointed a silvery finger at the centaurs. “Get their bodies into the hall of monarchs.”
Jax, Houston, and Twyford drew back; they had never been ordered about by a spirit. Her abruptness snapped Andy back to reality and his stomach lurched. The hall of monarchs. Yes! He tried to stuff down his euphoria. While it wouldn’t be the same as having them physically present, he’d take it. He nodded, releasing everyone into action.
“I’ll show the way,” Imogenia announced.
Word of their sudden arrival had traveled fast. Cadfael, Lucee, and several castle staff entered the courtyard as the company was making its exit. Startled exclamations replaced early morning yawns as they first spied the four centaurs then noticed Cedrica’s body nearby. When they caught sight of the three bodies and deduce
d the identities, their wails and shrieks of disbelief broke Andy’s heart.
They need me.
Captain Ladilas approached. “My soldiers and I will manage this, my king.” Then in a quieter voice he added, “Take as much time as you need.”
“Let them handle things, Andy,” Hannah encouraged, returning from a welcoming hug with her parents.
Alden threw a comforting arm around Andy as they followed Imogenia and the centaurs across the courtyard. They passed Oomaldee’s heart, which stood puffing away, oblivious to the earthquake of change.
Hans waited for them outside the ornate set of doors leading to the hall of monarchs. The doors stood open. “I heard. I’m so sorry. I’d like to offer my services to prepare their bodies for burial.”
“And I’d like to help him,” Alden offered.
“Thank you both. I’d appreciate that.”
The healer joined the procession and said, “These doors are usually locked, but they were open when I arrived a couple minutes ago. And those were here.” The healer pointed to three granite tables standing side by side in the center of the circular room.
The cortege reached the tables. Jax, Houston, and Twyford set their burdens down gently, removing the bedrolls that still swaddled them.
“Thank you,” Andy acknowledged, his eyes not leaving his loved ones. “I’d like to be left alone, please.”
“Let’s get a change of clothes for each of them,” Hans suggested to Alden.
Hannah and the centaurs followed them out and closed the doors behind, leaving Imogenia hovering nearby.
“Well at least they left quickly,” a voice grumped.
“You could stand to be more sociable,” a lady reproved.
“Better get used to a few interruptions. Between the viewing, tributes, and funerals, there’ll be a horde traipsing through here and making a racket. My head aches already,” another male voice complained.
“You two. It’s been over five hundred years since Hercalon IV. You could turn a deaf ear.” Andy recognized Acelin, his grandmother.
Andy scanned the crypts, and as he listened to the banter, his distress grew. “Do you all mind?”
“Shhh,” several voices hushed.
“Watch it, young un. Treat your elders with a little respect.”
“I just lost three people I love very much and you’re whining about a little noise?” Andy’s retort silenced others.
“Hrumph.”
“Andy.” Imogenia pointed at Mom’s sleeping form.
A pair of pearlescent arms stretched upward. A yawn followed, then she sat up.
“Mom!” Andy was at her side in an instant. But when he reached to hug her, his arms met no resistance. She felt as cold as ice. Andy tried to swallow the lump in his throat but it wouldn’t go down.
Father rose shortly after. A hole gaped in his silvery chest, and Andy drew a hand to his mouth. Razen, he thought with a growl.
Mermin followed.
The shimmering forms of Andy’s grandparents, King Hercalon IV and Queen Acelin, joined them.
“Congratulations, Andrew. You are officially Oomaldee’s seventeenth sovereign,” Andy’s grandmother greeted.
“He’s not yet been crowned. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Acey,” a voice opined.
The queen frowned then returned her attention to Andy. “As I was saying, congratulations.”
“Thank you, I guess. Although I haven’t done anything to deserve it.”
The former queen brought a cold hand to Andy’s cheek. “You will.”
Andy forced a smile.
“Kaysan, it’s good to see you again,” Grandfather interjected, leaning forward to embrace his son. It appeared spirits didn’t have the same problem Andy had experienced, for their embrace held.
“Father, it’s good to see you again, too. Mother.”
“I’m so glad you two finally worked out your differences,” Acelin said, looking between her children.
That was the understatement of the millennium. Andy shook his head.
“I am too.” A slow smile broached Imogenia’s lips.
Kaysan reached to give his sister a hug. Her automatically stiff response thawed and shifted into an embrace, which delighted their parents.
“When do you plan to hold our funerals, Andy?” Mom asked.
He stared back blankly.
“It’s okay, Son,” Father encouraged. “You’ve been through a lot in the last day.”
As if you haven’t?
“Perhaps we can make a suggestion?” he offered.
Andy nodded, glancing between their sleeping and shimmering forms.
“Under normal circumstances, our passing would be a national event. But these are not ‘normal’ times. I’d suggest notifying the three communities about what happened, but tell them not to travel here. We don’t want them to risk running into harm. A simple ceremony for the military and staff will suffice.”
He sounds like he’s been thinking about this for a while. He probably has…
“Tomorrow. You need to hold it tomorrow,” Father finished.
Andy looked between Father and Mom. “That’s so soon.”
“Needs to be, or they’ll start stinkin’ this place up to the pinnacle of Peace Paradise,” a ghostly voice moaned.
“Thanks for that, Grandfather!” Father called out, shaking his head.
“Is that when you’ll ‘pass on’ and become invisible?” Andy’s voice quaked.
Father raised an eyebrow at Mom. She nodded and said, “We’ve decided to let you make that choice for us. You allow us to pass on when you’re ready. We’re in no hurry.”
Andy’s shoulders relaxed.
Mom patted Father’s arm. “Andy, you need to start thinking about your coronation. It doesn’t have to be right away, but the people need a king. Think about when you want it to be held and what you’d like it to include. It’s about celebrating the beginning of what hopefully will be a long and prosperous reign.”
“When you say ‘what I’d like it to include,’ what do you mean?”
“You need to select a name for yourself,” Father explained.
Andy instantly remembered the conversation he’d had with Fronia, a female statue he met at Oomaldee’s library several years before. He’d been trying to understand the scroll bearing the family tree that turned out to be his ancestry. The conversation had fascinated him, and now he recalled Fronia’s words like it was yesterday:
“The kings usually choose their name based on what they hope to accomplish during their reign. The name Ferrin means ‘peace and power.’ The three Ferrin kings established the kingdom, putting in place rules of governance that they hoped would bring peace. They also set up commerce and trade with other lands, which brought power to the kingdom. When King Mathias assumed the throne, neighboring nations were challenging Oomaldee. So he adopted a name that means ‘might in battle,’ since he knew the time had come for Oomaldee to show its power.”
Andy had never longed for the power of the monarchy. He had seen what it did to Father and shunned it. Andy inhaled deeply. It’s my responsibility now, for better or worse. The notion made his stomach roil, but for the first time, he didn’t feel sick. Andy surprised himself with his next thought: What might I accomplish?
“You okay, Andy?” Father sent him a worried look at the long silence.
“Yeah…I am.”
Exclamations of “You’ll do great!” “The sky’s the limit!” and “We’re proud of you!” rang from the surrounding crypts. Father, Mom, and Mermin chuckled along.
“Stop with all the yelling! You’re giving me a headache,” a disembodied voice grumped.
From beside Grandfather, Acelin said, “We’re all behind you.”
“Thank you, Grandma.”
“Hey, did you hear that? He called her ‘Grandma’!” Grandfather boasted.
“I’ve never been more honored.” Acelin gave Andy a wink.
“Now off you go. There’s a nation that
needs you,” Grandfather boomed.
Andy waved as he exited, but the echo of closing doors left no doubt that despite his family’s support, he was truly alone. He leaned against the cold marble and studied the amethyst inlay—it made him feel out of place and abandoned. Things will never be the same. The feeling of loss threatened to overwhelm him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Whirlwind
“Andy?” MiniMe interrupted Andy’s musings several minutes later. “This is all part of the healing process. Don’t shy away from it. Embrace it.”
Embrace this?
“If I may, remember what your grandfather said: ‘There’s a nation that needs you.’”
Andy swallowed, considering this.
Maybe I need them as much as they need me.
Andy emerged into the courtyard to find several huddles of weeping servants. The fallen centaur remained where she’d landed. The clear skies and morning sunshine couldn’t penetrate the fog of grief that had settled over the space.
Marta made a beeline to Andy and swallowed him in a hug. Her warm, solid arms, such a stark contrast to what he’d just experienced, sent a wave of emotion over him. Her gesture said it all without words. Her unconditional love and comfort touched his heart—like Mom used to. Tears overwhelmed him.
Marta was in no hurry. She just held him.
Andy felt like a vulnerable three-year-old as he clung to her. Her firm squeeze told him she would never let him go. He allowed his despair to pour out in a quaking torrent of tears.
When Andy finally pulled back, wiping at his tear-stained face, Marta looked into his eyes. “You’re the king and a big shot now.” A soggy smile bubbled up on his face. “But if you ever just need a mom, I’m always here for you. I hope I’m a good enough substitute.”
Andy nodded. “Thank you.” He gave her a quick hug before taking a calming breath. As he stepped back, he put on an invisible mask—his royal mask.
Until Marta’s hug, Andy hadn’t realized how merciful shock could be. Yes, he’d wept when Father, Mom, and Mermin died. But the cold, detached numbness that followed had allowed him to deal with the fallout while steering clear of his emotions. With that dam now breached, Andy knew he would need to process through their deaths, no matter the emotional toll. He didn’t look forward to it.
