by Alane Adams
Mavery.
He nodded at her as she started to follow his moves, saying the words with him. “Together, on my count!” he shouted.
The beasts descended, leading with their fierce talons. As they closed in, Sam began to count.
“Ready, set, go!”
Mavery and Sam stomped the ground and threw their hands forward at the same moment, their magic in sync. A ball of witch-fire exploded from their palms, a burst of light that incinerated the beasts this time, destroying them in an emerald blaze of crisping flesh.
There was a stillness in the clearing when it was over, and then Sam could swear Endera’s laughter cackled at them through the leaves. He looked up at the sun. The throbbing veins had grown thicker, sprouting in new directions and clogging the light, leaving less than one-fourth of the sun’s face clear.
His shoulders sagged. This should be a victory. But no matter what he did, Sam seemed to make things worse.
“That was amazing,” Mavery said, looking at her palms in awe. “I’ve never used magic that powerful before.”
Sam’s legs had turned to jelly. He gave her a half smile and then sank down to the ground. Leo brought him his leather pouch and slipped it back over his head.
“Be careful, Sam,” he said softly, his dark eyes concerned. “My father says magic will change you in ways you can’t understand.”
Sam knew he was right, but before he could answer, Keely rushed over.
“Nice work, hotshot.” She knelt down next to him with a grin. “I kind of like having a powerful witch on our side.”
Sam attempted a smile. That was the strongest magic he had used by far. He felt spent and exhausted. Within seconds, he fell into a deep sleep filled with dreams in which he was chased by a giant beast with gnashing teeth, trying to devour the world.
Endera sat in the nook of a tree, looking down at the unsuspecting children. “Why don’t you come, Sam?” she repeated in a mocking voice to herself, laughing out loud as she recalled Sam’s frantic fight to get to his father. The arrival of the Omera had been unexpected, but she had enjoyed seeing the boy use his magic in such a powerful way. He was teetering on a very dark edge. Soon, very soon, everything she had planned for would be delivered into her hands.
She wished she could follow the boy and his little band of rebels farther, but she had pressing business to attend to back at the Tarkana Fortress. The war between the hapless Orkadians and the army of witches she had assembled was about to begin.
Chapter Thirty-Three
By midafternoon, Sam awoke refreshed for the first time in days. Leo managed to get one of their horses back. Keely and Mavery climbed up onto the saddle, and Leo led the horse as they continued on their journey.
“Sorry about this morning,” Sam said gruffly as he walked alongside. “I didn’t mean to hit you; I just . . . something came over me. I can’t explain it.”
Leo kept his eyes on the trail. “You weren’t yourself. It was the wraiths. Mavery told me about them.” They walked on farther, before Leo added, “But these powers you have—the way you destroyed those creatures. You could easily kill me, or any of us, if you lost control.”
Sam bristled at Leo’s comments. He looked up at Keely. She didn’t say anything, but he knew she had heard Leo. “What was I supposed to do? Let those things eat you guys?”
Leo slid him a glance and then went back to watching the trail. “I’m not saying you did the wrong thing, Sam. But I felt a difference in you when you were using your magic. Like you were someone else. Someone to be feared.”
Sam wanted to argue, but the words didn’t come, because Leo was right. Sam was changing. He craved magic like an itch that needed scratching, and the more he tried to ignore it, the stronger the urge to use it grew.
Fear gnawed at his guts. What if Leo was right and he lost control? He snuck a peek at the sun, shuddering at the strength it gave him. Leo didn’t understand the burden Sam carried. They lapsed into silence as they wended their way along the trail. The trees began to thin out, and they emerged from the woods onto a bluff.
“There!” Mavery shouted, pointing. Below them, a blue inlet lay sheltered from the sea by a crescent-shaped bay.
The foursome made their way down the bluff. Hard ground gave way to white sand. The beach was littered with branches and logs that had washed up from storms. Keely and Mavery ran into the surf, getting wet up to their knees.
“Come on, Sam,” Keely called. “It feels great.”
Sam smiled but shook his head. After his run-in with the wraiths, the thought of going back into the water was unappealing, to say the least. Then, from behind, Leo tackled him and threw him over his shoulder, running into the ocean and dropping Sam into the water.
He came up sputtering and fuming. But seeing his friends splash around, chasing each other and playing in the surf, made Sam feel like a kid again. He surrendered and joined in, forgetting his cares for a few precious minutes.
Afterward, they built a fire from driftwood and dried their clothes. Leo was able to catch two small fish with a spear he fashioned out of a stick. Mavery gathered fresh greens while Keely wrapped the fish in some leaves and cooked them over the fire. Sam studied the compass, turning it in his hands, trying to get the needle to move. He polished it with his sleeve until the brass shone and the runic symbols were clearly visible under the glass. The symbols were as familiar as the words he spoke when he used magic. He recited them aloud, wondering at the knowledge he’d never known he had but no less able to make the compass turn on.
As the sun set, Sam leaned back on one elbow and watched Mavery do a little dance in the light of the fire. She stomped her feet and waved her hands, imitating their fight against the winged creatures.
“Those black-hearted beasts are known as the Omera,” she said, pretending to fly like one. “They share a dark magic with the ancient witches. ’Course, only two powerful witches like me and Sam could defeat them.” She blew a bubble of blue energy that floated over Keely’s head. Inside the bubble, the battle replayed, showing the beasts exploding into black confetti. Even Leo laughed at Mavery’s antics.
“So, what’s the plan?” Keely asked, as the embers of their fire burned down. “How do we build a raft?”
“We can cut vines from the trees and use them to lash those together,” Leo answered, pointing to the pile of logs that had washed up. “It won’t hold up in a storm, but it should last a couple of days.”
“How far is it?” Keely asked, turning to Sam.
He shook the compass lightly. The needle floated around, moving aimlessly in whatever direction he tilted it. He sighed in frustration. “I’ve tried everything. I don’t know how it works.”
“Give it to me,” Mavery said, snatching it out of his hands. “Oh, mighty compass of Odin,” she chanted, holding the compass in front of her, her eyes squinched shut, “take me across the seas to the island of the gods.”
The compass needle fluttered. Sam sat forward, excited. The needle began to spin around and around, whirling one direction, then stopping to spin in the other, never settling in one spot.
“Great job, kid—you broke it,” Sam said, snatching it back from her. The needle slowed and hung limply. Disgusted, Sam shoved it into his saddlebag.
Keely cleared her throat. “Look, Endera wants you to find Odin and bring back the Horn of Gjall, right?” Sam nodded, and so did Mavery and Leo. “So, the way I figure it, the compass will work when we need it to.”
It wasn’t much to stake a perilous journey on.
“In the morning, we start the raft,” Sam said firmly. “We should be finished by sunset, and we can sail at night, safe from the sun’s rays.”
At the first sliver of light, they began work in earnest. By midday, they had a sizable raft assembled. To Sam’s eye it appeared flimsy, but Leo seemed proud of it. It took another hour to knot enough vines to make the net Mavery had in mind.
While Keely and Leo filled up the waterskins, Sam lashed their meage
r supplies to the raft. They set the horse free and slapped its rear to send it home. The late-afternoon tide was going out when they pushed the raft into the water. Leo jumped on behind Keely.
Sam helped Mavery onboard, then hesitated. This was the point of no turning back. He looked back at the safety of the shore. If the compass didn’t work, or if their raft collapsed in the waves, they would be done for, along with all of Orkney and maybe the rest of Planet Earth. Sam swallowed his fear, gave a hard push to launch the raft through the small waves, and climbed on. Leo had a long pole he used to navigate them through the surf. They broke over a wave and then dipped the paddles they had fashioned out of wide strips of bark.
Another wave crashed, nearly capsizing them.
“Maybe we should go back,” Keely said anxiously.
“No, we keep going,” Sam said grimly, digging in with his paddle. “Just hang on.”
He and Leo battled through the waves, nearly getting washed off as the next set came down over them. There was a splitting sound, but the raft held together. After another few minutes of tense paddling, they were away from the current that pulled them back to shore.
Mavery stood up, put her fingers to her lips, and whistled. It was a lilting sound, trilling across the water. They waited. Nothing happened. She whistled again, and a tiny splash sounded behind them. Sam whirled around to see a shiny gray bottlenose break the surface, followed by the curve of a fin, then another.
A bolt of euphoria shot through him. It was working. The dolphins were heeding Mavery’s call.
The witchling leaned over the edge and patted the dolphin on the head. It skittered back to her in its language and splashed the water. She laughed.
“Get ready,” she said to Sam.
Leo and Sam lifted the net of vines they had knotted together. One end was tied to the front of the raft.
The sea churned as three, then four, then a large pod of dolphins broke the surface and backpedaled. They threw the net, and the dolphins grabbed it with their noses and dropped back and began to swim. The raft jerked forward, and they sat down in a state of awe to watch the dolphins.
Sam grinned and gave Leo a high five.
“Nice job,” Keely said, ruffling Mavery’s hair.
After a few minutes, Leo elbowed Sam. “See if the compass works now.”
Sam pulled the brass object out of his bag. The needle spun crazily. Sam grasped it tightly, wishing with all his might that the compass would actually work. It stopped abruptly in one place, on a runic symbol shaped like an upside-down pitchfork.
“Hey, I think it’s working! It looks like Asgard is that way.” He held it out in front of him, pointing it at the red sun as it sank low on the horizon. Leo steered the raft with the rudder. As night set in, the large island of Garamond drifted from sight.
Keely lay back, resting her head on her hands to stare up at the stars. “I think it’s cool you guys can do magic stuff. I mean, I wish I could talk to dolphins like that.”
Mavery settled down next to her. “I might be able to teach you a coupla things, like how to whistle and make the dolphins come to you.”
Keely looked at her with a smile, then went back to staring at the stars. “Cool.”
Leo and Sam exchanged wry glances. Finally, the girls were getting along. It didn’t take long for the pair to drift off to sleep.
Sam took the rudder from Leo. “Get some rest. We don’t know how long it’s going to take to find this place.”
“No. I’ll stay up and keep you company. I don’t mind.”
Sam put his hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Look, you’ve been going at it for three days straight now. You rescued us from the inn, stopped me from drowning myself, and built this raft. I got this. That’s an order,” he added, as Leo hesitated.
A wide yawn creased Leo’s face. “Okay, but only for an hour or so. Then you can rest.”
Leo stretched out next to Keely, and in less than a minute, his breathing was evenly spaced as he slept. Sam took the moment to revel in a little excitement. The stars glittered brightly overhead, keeping him company. For once, the sun was out of sight, safely tucked away for the night. He checked the compass in the light of the moon, following the course the needle pointed to. They had to get to Odin to stop the sun, but the thought of saving his dad never left his mind.
He imagined the look on his dad’s face when he caught sight of Sam, two years older and about four inches taller. Yet as he imagined their reunion, anger blossomed in Sam’s heart. His resentment at having been left behind, having been lied to, lingered. Maybe he wasn’t ready to just forget it and forgive his father. Sam shook his head, wishing away the bad thoughts.
As the night wore on, the stars faded and a cold fog settled over them. Sam’s eyes grew so heavy, he couldn’t focus. The rhythmic movement of the dolphins splashing through the waves lulled him into a deep sleep. He slept, one hand on the rudder, clutching the compass in the other.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sam had a dream so vivid he was sure it was real. He could see his father. Robert Barconian was smiling, his arm around Sam’s mother. He looked dashing, dressed in the red, royal Orkadian uniform, while Abigail wore a long, white silk gown woven with lilies.
It was their wedding day. They were outside in a garden filled with people in their finest clothes. Sam heard a hissing sound and turned his head, expecting to see a snake. A black raven sat in the tree next to him, watching him with shiny green eyes.
His parents turned to each other and kissed; then his mother raised her bouquet and tossed it into the air. The raven launched from the tree and caught it in its beak, carrying it away from the outstretched hands of the ladies-in-waiting.
The raven morphed into Endera, dressed in a black dress of feathers, looking beautiful as she landed beside the newlyweds. Endera took Robert’s chin in her hand, turned him away from Abigail, and kissed him. As she did, the bouquet dropped in slow motion and bounced on the ground.
Sam watched the flowers turn into rats that ran toward his mother, spreading like a black stain over her white gown and smothering her in darkness.
He awoke, biting back the scream on his lips as the raft bumped up against a rock. They had reached land. The dolphins were gone; they had left the net behind. Fog shrouded the island, penetrated in a few spots by weak morning light. Sam sat up and scanned his surroundings, unable to make out more than the boulder in front of them.
Leo and the girls were sound asleep. Mavery was curled up in the crook of Keely’s arm. Sam tried to shake Leo, but his friend didn’t wake. Grabbing the pole to push them around the boulder, Sam let the tide carry them onto the beach, then dragged the raft as far up as he could. He jumped back on and shook Mavery. For once, the little witch was silent.
He turned to Keely, grabbing her shoulders.
“Hey, wake up, come on.”
Her face was pale, her body limp. For a terrible moment, Sam thought she was dead. He pressed his head to her chest and felt for a heartbeat, sighing with relief when he heard it. He tried splashing water on her face, but even that didn’t rouse her. He grabbed Leo, shaking him roughly.
“Come on, man, let’s go exploring. I need someone to go with me.”
Sam’s heart pounded as he sat back on his knees. They were all in a deep sleep—bespelled by something.
He was on his own.
Looking around, Sam wrinkled his nose, taking in the smells. The fog covering the thick jungle that bordered the strip of sand made it impossible to see anything of the interior of the island. He stood up, flexing his fingers, trying to decide what to do. What if an Omera came by and attacked his friends while he was off searching for Odin? Or rathos swarmed out of the jungle and bit their sleeping bodies?
He wavered, wanting to stay, wanting desperately some company on his journey, then resigned himself to the fact that he would have to go it alone. He dragged downed palm fronds from the beach and covered up his friends, shielding them from the sun and any predators.
It was the best he could do. Sam crossed to the edge of the dense tangle of trees. As he pushed aside the foliage and stepped forward, everything changed.
The fog wiped away, leaving the day bright and sunny. Turning back, he could see the gray screen of fog behind him. He put his hand through it, feeling the dampness. He turned again and faced the interior. The air was hot and humid and made his brow sweat. Insects buzzed in his ear, animals yipped, and strange birds darted through the foliage.
Dreading the red streaks, he looked up, but the sun was like a golden sunflower, bright and pristine, free of the red stain smothering Orkney. He stared at it until his eyes burned, drinking it in. He felt a crazy kind of hope. This must be Asgard. Home of Odin. Trees towered overhead like skyscrapers. Oversize plants with purple and orange flowers littered the floor.
Sam started walking, trusting his instincts to guide him. Streams of water ran through the jungle. He knelt beside one and scooped up a handful of water, then another, reveling in the fresh, cold drink. Pink fish swam in the shallows. The fish looked up at him curiously, hovering in a cluster to watch him seemingly without fear. He reached a hand in to touch one, and it swam into his palm, nestling there. Curious, Sam lifted it up out of the water. As he did, it changed into a frog and leaped out of his hand, disappearing into the bushes. He laughed. Life here was abundant, untouched by the poison killing everything in Orkney.
Walking on, Sam plucked what looked like juicy blackberries but tasted like nothing he had ever eaten before. They had a tangy sweetness that defied explanation and left him hungrier for more. The birds sang in the trees, and he began whistling with them. He faintly recognized the tune, some kind of melody that played in his head. Sam felt free of burdens, free of the load he had been carrying since he had traveled through that stonefire. He was happy.
