“Grandpa?” the man said, puzzled. “You are saying I’m your grandfather?”
Viven reconsidered his calling the man “Grandpa,” but this man could as well have jumped out from anyone of his grandfather’s portraits back home.
“Aren’t you Algrad Bezon?” Viven asked uneasily. “You led the expedition to Tropagia, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I am,” the man replied, astonished. “At least half the man you talk of.” His gaze went to Viven’s neck. “I am his subsoul, and that is my Soul Splitter round your neck—which only Grandcawk could have given to you. So you . . . Are you really my grandson?”
“Yes,” said Viven, “I am.”
“But why have you come to this temple? Or did Grandcawk send you? Oh, no, that can’t be. He doesn’t even know. But you have Acario with you, and that foul witch too.” Some heat had come to his tone. “And that means—you have come to destroy the sword!”
Algrad gawped, his eyes widening in terror. He had spoken so fast that Viven struggled to get any clear meaning out of his words.
“Didn’t you want the sword destroyed?” Viven said.
“Me? Wanting the sword destroyed?” Algrad’s astonishment was infinite. “I gave half my soul trying to protect it!”
“What?” Viven said, the bewilderment in his tone so great, it was accusative. This was really his grandfather right? For all he knew, the man had to be. Hadn’t Grandcawk told him he suspected that the sub soul of his grandfather still existed?
“B-but,” Viven stuttered, “didn't you tell Sezia this sword should be destroyed, since it could be used for bad purposes?”
“Sezia?? My friend, you mean? She had murdered my other half of soul, but I know that when she did it, she was in someone else’s control, not her own. Her behaviour had been strange.”
“So you didn’t ask her to destroy the sword at all?” said Viven.
“Of course not,” said Algrad. “That would have been foolish of me. Tell me, how did you come across such misconceptions, son?”
“We were taken to Nascat as prisoners,” Viven explained. “There we met Sezia’s ghost, who said she’d help us escape if we destroy the sword called Navarion. She told us you had instructed her to do so.”
Algrad shook his head. “Then, son,” he said, “I am afraid that you have been fooled . . . and used. Navarion is the most powerful sword there is. It helps to maintain the balance between good and evil, never allowing the latter to rise above a particular limit. If this sword is destroyed, evil will break free and cause havoc to good.”
Although time had turned stationary, Viven felt as if he was swaying. Any moment he might faint and fall. They had been doing everything for nothing. Sezia had tricked them and they would be stuck in Tropagia forever. Why he had done so was another question altogether.
After what appeared to be an age, Algrad spoke again, eying distastefully at some spot behind Viven.
“And may I ask, son, why that witch is with you?”
For a wild moment, Viven wondered if Algrad was speaking about Bufo—but then Bufo was a male frog. How could he be a witch in any instance?
“No,” Viven assured Algrad. “We don’t have any witch with us.”
Algrad shook his head.
“That is a witch.” He pointed a firm finger beside Viven. “I can sense the dark powers emanating from her.”
Unable to move as he was, Viven asked, “Whom are you talking about?”
“That woman, who resembles my niece, Gina. But I know she is no daughter of mine, rather some feet licker of Mai Canniola.”
Viven froze some more, despite being already frozen.
“No,” he said. “Aunt Gina? Are you mad?”
“She isn’t my niece, or your aunt, son,” said Algrad. “She is a witch. You refuse to believe me, don’t you? Well, I can prove it.”
“No,” said Viven, more to himself than his grandfather’s sub soul. “No, she’s my aunt.” Images of all the time he had been with Aunt Gina flashed in front of his mind’s eye. Aunt Gina wasn’t any witch; she was too good to be one. She had always helped him all the time he was in trouble, always taken care of him as his mother would have were she there.
“I can prove it, son,” Algrad said again.
Viven, however, didn’t want him to prove anything. He knew Aunt Gina was no witch.
Then he succumbed to the contagious thought he was trying to keep himself at bay from—what if Algrad was right?
“How?” he asked, unwilling. “How can you prove it?”
“Through a simple test,” said Algrad, understanding Viven’s disbelief. “See, I will free you and them from this time freeze. Then what you need to do is pick up the sword Navarion and strike your so-appearing aunt—”
“I can’t do that!”Viven snapped. “I don’t even know what sort of powers the sword has!”
“Well,” said Algrad, “for that you would have to take my, your grandfather’s, word that all the powers Navarion has are powers of good. If a good soul lives inside your aunt’s body, then she will come to no harm. However, if she is a witch, she will be reduced to dust as soon as the sword touches her.”
Viven pondered over it. If Aunt was truly herself, she would remain unharmed. Anyway, the test was fair enough.
“All right,” he said, decided. “Go on.”
Algrad made a nod.
“I pray I am wrong,” he said. “Right after I let time flow again, I shall disappear. You must grab Navarion very quickly and strike her. It will take the witch by surprise, and she won’t have time to react—considering she really is one.”
“Okay,” Viven said, preparing himself for the task ahead.
Algrad snapped his fingers and was one with the air.
Viven dropped the axe from his hands, seized the sword, turned, and hit Aunt Gina.
To his endless horror, as though she weren’t made of flesh or bones, she turned to dust the moment the sword contacted her skin.
Coughing, Viven fell onto his knees. He didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry or to slap himself for the act he had carried out.
What did he do? What if it was the sub soul that was evil and had wanted to kill Aunt Gina? And if that wasn’t the case and this had been an imposter, then where was his true aunt?
Questions flooded his mind by the dozens, of which he could answer none.
“V-Viven,” said Manu, taking time to process what had happened. “What did you do?” His voice trailed off, and he fell onto his knees as well.
Feeling tears dribble down his face, Viven hugged Manu, fearing he might turn to dust too if he didn’t put his arms around him.
“Manu,” he wept. “I-I am sorry. She wasn’t your mum.”
“Wasn’t Mum?” Manu pulled himself away, his eyes turning redder by the second. “What do you mean? And why did you do that?”
“May the gods be blessed!” Bufo exclaimed, immense astonishment in his voice. “Algrad Bezon!”
Viven turned his head. Algrad had reappeared.
“Look!” Bufo said to Viven and Manu. “It’s your grandfather!”
“Grandpa Algrad?” Manu said. “But he’s dead. I-I don’t understand.”
“Be calm, my boy,” Algrad told him, coming over. “You are Gina’s son, aren’t you? What just took place was for the best.” He turned at Bufo, who was gaping in positive wonder. “Bufo, the lord of all frogs!”
“I can’t believe my eyes, Algrad. How—?”
“What did you do to Mum?” Manu demanded of Viven.
“She wasn’t Aunt, not your mum; she was—”
“A witch,” said Algrad.
“A witch?” Manu echoed, bewildered. “What are you saying?”
“She was an imposter, Manu,” Viven tried to explain, feeling horrid.
“Wait, wait,” said Bufo, puzzled. “You mean Manu’s mother wasn’t his mother, but a witch?”
Algrad nodded.
“Yes, and I told Viven by creating a time freeze to destr
oy her. I had sensed the witch as soon as you came here; you came here intending to destroy the sword, didn’t you?”
“Of course,” Bufo said. “That was the whole point of coming here.”
“Well, someone has been fooling about with you all. If you destroy Navarion, the balance between good and evil will be disrupted, giving birth to the perfect environment for the rise of evil.”
“What?” Bufo said.
“Leave all that,” said Manu, face glistening. “Where is my real mum, then?”
Algrad considered the question. “For all I know, son, she has to be with Mai Canniola.”
“The witch everyone talks about?” Manu asked.
“Yes.” Algrad nodded. He looked at Viven. “It is because of a spell I placed over the sword many years back upon my discovery of it. I thought I was the only one who knew about its existence, but Mai Canniola had been monitoring it too.
“My spell imposed on the sword that solely my descendants could destroy it. And not all my descendants, either: only the eldest child of my own eldest child, and his grandson and so on, skipping a generation each time. I had not wanted anyone to be capable of destroying Navarion at all, but that was impossible. There always had to be someone who had the power of bringing about the downfall of the sword, ignoring its holy powers against evil.
“Mai Canniola had tried to stop me from casting the spell, but she got me only after I had already done it. So now as I suspect, since you, son, are my eldest grandchild, she is trying to trick you into destroying the sword. She probably kidnapped my niece Gina and replaced her with the witch you just slew.”
“But how will we rescue Mum?” Manu asked, desperate.
“Navarion will help you, my son,” Algrad said to him. “For many years, I had been under the wrong impression that the sword, Navarion, though it possessed infinite powers, could not be actually used, but now, after thirty years being with it, I know that it could very well be used.”
“What are you getting to, Algrad?” said Bufo. “We can use the sword against Mai Canniola?”
“Yes,” said Algrad, affirmative. “It could bring her downfall, but you would need to be very careful. The sword must always be with you. You should never let it away from your eyes.”
“Still,” said Bufo, “bringing Mai Canniola’s downfall, isn’t that great? Tell me, who hasn’t dreamt of it? That is excluding her filthy followers.”
“Well,” said Algrad. “is that girl another of my grandchildren as well?” He was talking about Dirita, who had fallen silent ever since Algrad’s appearance. She appeared pale, and Viven suspected it had to do with her cat and not Aunt Gina. No Sezia would be coming to help her get her cat back.
“She is Dirita,” Viven said for her. “She’s our friend. We found her in the forest; her evil uncle who wanted her property had left her to die.”
“That is a pity, then,” said Algrad with a sorry expression. “Are you going to take her to your house?”
“Yes,” said Viven. He had never really thought what would happen to Dirita once they returned to Tempstow. Maybe, if no alternative presented itself, they would have to keep her with them. There was no point in her returning to her own village.
Giving Dirita another pitiful glance, Algrad said, “Now, Viven, can you give me back my Soul Splitter? I have waited long for it.”
Viven removed the necklace from his neck and was going to give it to Algrad when Bufo interrupted, saying, “Wait, Viven, how did you get his Soul Splitter?”
“Grandcawk gave it to me,” Viven said.
“You have been to the House of the Macacawks, then?”
Viven nodded as he handed the Soul Splitter to Algrad.
“But, Algrad,” said Bufo, “if you put that on, you know what’ll happen, right?”
“Be transported to where the other half of my soul is, I suppose,” Algrad replied.
“But it’s dead!”
“Maybe I would arrive in the other world.”
“You don’t want to stay with us?” Viven asked, getting the meaning of what the other two were talking.
“Well,” said Algrad remorsefully, “son, see, it’s horrible without my other half of soul. And since it cannot come to me, I will have to go to it. Besides that, I cannot survive out of this temple either. If I go outside, I would become weaker and weaker until I am reduced to nothing. And then I cannot imagine the sort of suffering my other half of soul would be in. That is why I have made this temple my dwelling in the first place.”
“Is it the reason you never contacted us?” Viven said.
“Yes,” replied Algrad. “I have never been in a capable position of doing that.”
“Wait,” Bufo said. “I do not understand. Why can you only survive inside this temple, Algrad?”
“Because it’s made of Beaxtonix. It drew me here, Bufo. I can’t explain why, but I suppose it had something to do with this Soul Splitter of mine, which is made of the same element.”
He then sighed. “Well, now it’s time I went.”
“Wait,” Bufo said again, his tone urgent. “I want to ask you something, Algrad.”
“What is it?” Algrad said.
“King Brucus. You didn’t kill him, right? It was all false, wasn’t it?”
“It wasn’t,” Algrad replied in a guilty voice. “I killed him.”
“What!”Bufo exclaimed. Viven could barely believe his ears.
“It was a trick, Bufo,” Algrad said. “The foul witch played a trick on me. She made me think His Majesty was on her side! I was convinced that King Brucus was going to help her in an attack on the Diamension. But only after I had his blood on my hands did I realise that Canniola was the one who had set everything up to convince me against King Brucus. Oh, Bufo, I am sorry! It was the biggest mistake I ever made! I am sorry!”
Bufo sighed.
“Well,” he said, and lingered for a moment, torn between himself and unsure of what to speak. “I-I was hoping you were innocent, but”—he looked at Algrad—“I think I believe you, Algrad.”
“Thanks.” Algrad managed a small smile.
“Canniola is vile,” Bufo continued. “She makes people dance to her likings. She must be destroyed.”
“Yes, Bufo,” said Algrad. “She must be.”
He exhaled, staring at the altar for a few seconds. Then he looked up at them.“Well, I must leave now,” he said.
Bufo nodded.
“Save my niece, Viven, and bring Canniola’s end. Farewell, Bufo, and you three, as well.”
Smiling at everybody, he put on the necklace. There was a blinding flash of light, and when Viven opened his eyes, there was no Algrad Bezon in the temple of Brene.
“He’s gone,” said Bufo, rueful.
“We’d better get out too,” said Viven.
“All right,” said Bufo. He picked up the axe Viven had dropped. “Guardian! Let us be out.”
“As you please,” a loud, reverberating voice said. In an instant, they found themselves outside the temple before the giant in the hole.
“I see,” he said in his booming voice. “The woman had been a witch, but you must keep the promise she made: free me.”
“Okay,” said Viven, raising the sword doubtfully. He waved it a little. “You are free to go.”
The giant wagged its gaseous conical lower body and soared into the sky at breakneck speed. Soon he was a tiny dot, and then the clouds had him.
Manu threw a stone into the river, looking grim.
“Wonder how Mum is at the moment.”
“Won’t lie,” said Bufo. “She isn’t well, though I believe she’s alive. Canniola never kills her victims right away.”
Viven felt about the length of the sword in his hand, observing the tip.“How do we use this thing?”
“Maybe you need to tell it what to do,” Bufo suggested.
“Well,” said Viven, “let’s try.” He pointed the sword at a large boulder on the opposite bank of the river and commanded, “Sword, er,
destroy that boulder.”
In a split second, a red beam of light shot out from the tip and hit the boulder, disintegrating it into a thousand tiny pieces.
“Wow,” said Bufo. “This sword is powerful!”
Viven spotted Dirita, some colour returning to her eyes after seeing the sword in action. Dirita had kept quiet regarding her cat after coming to know that they had been tricked. Viven had an idea.
He pointed the sword at Dirita and said, “Sword, retrieve Dirita’s cat!” He felt a strong pull in his gut, so intense it almost threw him off his feet. Then, after a few uneasy moments, the pull ended, and to his ultimate surprise, something appeared in front of Dirita.
A cat’s bones and skin.
“No!” Dirita shrieked, squatting down.
This wasn’t possible, Viven brooded in dismay. The bones and skin were almost dry, like it belonged to something that had died weeks ago. Dirita’s cat had been lost only on the day before yesterday, so in no way the remains could be of Mr. Mekuri.
“It’s not your cat, Dirita—” Viven began, but was cut off midway by Manu, who was jumping.
“I’ve got an idea! I’ve got an idea!” he said, his words vibrating with excitement. “You can bring back Mum like that!”
Grasping Manu’s brilliant idea right away, Viven commanded the sword to bring Aunt Gina. The pulling sensation seized him once again, but this time when it ended, nothing appeared.
Manu moaned, slumping to the ground, his spirits lowered. Meanwhile, Dirita continued weeping, clutching the stinking remains as though the cat would spring back to life if she did so.
“Dirita,” Viven tried to explain. His own little ray of hope had vanished after the failure. “That’s not Mr. Mekuri.”
“I-I recognise him,” said Dirita, sniffing. “It’s my Mr. Mekuri!”
“Well,” said Bufo to Viven, sighing, “what you just did is proof that your aunt is under powerful dark magic restriction—but then, it also proves she’s alive.”
They were taken surprised when Dirita ceased crying on her own, the remains being her attention no longer.
She raised a quivering finger at the river.
“I saw something there,” she said in a watery voice.
The Sword of Tropagia (The Advisor Trilogy Book 1) Page 12
