by Adam Witcher
Soon the room was full of the strange fog, but Petra could still breathe normally. All that was visible of the magician and his assistant were their silhouettes in the flashing lights. They stood in the middle of the chamber, and the lights around them fell into a pattern that encircled them like frantic fairies. Then things got even stranger.
The woman stood still. The music crescendoed. The man exaggerated his motions when he put his hands on one of her arms. Petra’s jaw dropped when the man simply pulled her arm off. He held it up and it waved to the audience. He walked around to the other side of her and pulled the other arm off. It waved as well. The man walked a circle with the wiggling arms on display. Then he returned to the woman and slid them back on as if they were there the whole time.
Her father was having the time of his life. The pudgy old king was nearly doubled over in delight, peppering the elegant music with cries of “Oh my god!” and “Impossible!”
The man stood behind the woman and put his hands on either side of her head. He peeked his head over to the side and cupped a hand to his ear as if to say Should I do it?
King Gareth answered that question easily.
“Do it! Do it you madman!”
The music swelled into a maddening fortissimo as the magician pulled his assistant’s head off. He walked away for a second, and the silhouette of the headless woman raised her hands up as if frustrated. The man turned back and handed her her head. She placed it back onto her neck, cocked her head back and forth, then did a little jig. She was completely fine.
The two had one final display. They danced around the room once more while every light flashed simultaneously. Each time they reached a light, the man picked it up with his bare hands and tossed it to the woman, who appeared to throw it into her mouth and eat it. This went on until each light was gone and the room was a smoky darkness.
The musicians stopped playing. The great wooden doors opened, and light flooded in while the smoke billowed out into the hallway.
The crowd of three sat in a stunned silence. Several moments went by, and the magicians stepped forward. Now more visible by the moment, they bowed.
The king stood up and roared. He threw his hands together, laughing like thunder. Petra stood and applauded as well. She didn’t typically share his enthusiasm for magic, but that was far beyond anything she’d ever seen before. Even her mother stood and clapped politely.
The king rushed over to the magician, dropping his goblet of wine to the ground in the process. He shook their hands greedily.
“That was incredible, just incredible!” The king said. “How did you…”
He checked the woman’s neck. She lifted her dress sleeve to show her shoulder joint. The king looked closely but apparently found nothing. He strode across the room, looking in any spot he could remember seeing a light, but found no trace. The magician stood beaming, the woman smiling lightly.
“You two,” the king said, “are staying here. You’ll be my court mages. This castle just won’t do without you.”
“Honey,” Queen Orpha cut in, “perhaps we should talk about this in private.”
“You won’t persuade me otherwise, woman. I know you just saw what I did.”
Petra was torn, so she chose not to get involved. Taking in two new people meant more work for the servants, two additional salaries to pay, more food to cook. At a time when the kingdom was struggling so terribly for money that she’d overheard her parents talking about which servants were needed least. Yet was it foolish? Maybe magic was the morale boost the court needed.
The magician stepped forward and stuck his hand out. The king shook it enthusiastically.
“I am Anton, and this is my partner, Ana.”
Partner, Petra thought. No hints to the nature of their relationship.
“Anton and Ana!” King Gareth exclaimed, leaving the queen exasperated. “What a pleasure it will be to have you here. Please, let one of my servant’s show you to your rooms. We will get more acquainted soon, I am sure of it.”
Anton smiled proudly as he and his partner were taken toward bedchambers. Petra wanted to speak to him, but now certainly wasn’t the time.
“My God, true magicians. In our castle. What a dream!” King Gareth wiggled with excitement.
Orpha gave him a half-smile. Deep down, even she was impressed.
Chapter Seven
Gregor led Anton and Ana to their quarters, a room with two beds, a chair, and a desk. With nothing but the clothes on their backs and a satchel of gadgets, the pair settled in. Anton looked out their window and noted that the room was in a far corner of a castle, overlooking a courtyard where gardeners tended to hedges and flowers. He sat and relaxed for a while.
A knock sounded at the door. Anton opened it to find Gregor again. He’d only been gone for an hour.
“The family would like to invite you to enjoy supper in the dining chamber,” he said. “Unfortunately, they will not be in attendance this evening, but I’ve been asked to inform you that our chefs are at your disposal. It will be served in half an hour.”
Anton felt his stomach rumble. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast at the inn, and despite it only being early evening, it had been a long day already.
“Thank you, Gregor.”
The old servant bowed and walked away.
“Thank God,” he said. “I didn’t want to ask, but I’m ravenous. Do you want to come?”
“I’m not sure that would be wise,” she said. “I will not be able to eat anything, and I soon will need to begin extracting those bulbs from my system before they are broken. Perhaps you should go alone.”
Anton frowned. He’d hoped she would join him. Of course, Ana had been his companion as a faceless A.I. for years, but she had blossomed since choosing a body and leaving modern Jagari. In this strange new world, she was more reactive, curious, and he was enjoying observing her. The avenues for discussion and banter were just unfolding, and he was eager to see how far his A.I. would follow them. But he wouldn’t be gone for long, and she had a good point. Should anyone else see him eating, they’d likely find it strange that she wasn’t.
“I’ll just ask them to send a plate up here to you, for appearances. I’ll probably have it as a midnight snack later.” Anton winked, stepped out of the room.
He left early so he could explore the castle. He meandered through the halls, stopping to admire ornate windows and paintings along the way. It felt good to wander unsupervised and indulge whatever curiosity got his attention.
Eventually, he reached the dining hall, which was rearranged with the table running through the center of the room, chairs lined up on either side of it. Apparently, when the royal family was away, the servants and court attendants got to use it for their own enjoyment. A chef by the door saw him come in and smiled over a thin moustache. Anton recognized him as the violinist from the quartet.
“Have a seat, sir, dinner will be brought to you.”
He sauntered along the table until he spotted a familiar face, and a lovely one at that. Sabina didn’t see him at first. She sat away from the other chatting diners, looking over a handwritten script. She looked more formal, though no less enticing, than she had at the farm, a tight green tunic emphasizing her bust. He took the seat right across from her, and she looked up, annoyed. It took her a moment to recognize him.
“Anton? Gracious, you clean up nicely.” Her demeanor brightened, and she pushed the notebook aside.
“Thanks for the potato sack, but I graduated out of it quickly.”
“No kidding,” she laughed. “I guess you took my advice. Sounds like quite a show you put on.”
“The king seemed to like it,” Anton said. He paused, remembering the scribe’s suspicion of House Dracos. “Have you had a chance to meet the new family?”
A servant put a plate in front of Anton, and he inhaled the aromas. Steamed carrots, roasted venison, and potatoes. He took a bite and reveled in the flavor.
“I don’t know what to think ye
t,” she sighed, “but at least I’m back in the castle now. I can keep notes. There really is something off about them.”
You have no idea.
“Do you normally stay in the castle?” He asked, shoveling food into his mouth.
She nodded. “Most of the time. It’s far more convenient, though it is nice to get out on the farm. Someday, I’d love to live out there permanently. For now, though, the castle is fine.”
“Then we’re neighbors,” he said with a grin. “I’ve just moved in. Perhaps we can spend some more time together. I think I’d like to get to know you better.”
She nearly spat out her food. A pink tint fell over her face.
“What would your partner think of that?” she teased.
“Oh, she’s very open minded,” he winked. “A real forward-thinking woman.”
“Well, aren’t you a lucky man?”
“I certainly feel like one.”
She wasn’t sure how to react, so Anton halted his flirtations. There would be time for that later.
“I have to ask, since you’re the court scribe and all, do you have any idea why the king and queen are so eager to have their daughter married off to these people? Surely there must be a better match from a closer kingdom. Someone perhaps a bit more… pleasant.”
Sabina’s cheeks flushed again, but clearly for a different reason. She spoke slowly and thoughtfully.
“I like you, Anton, but I don’t know you. Not really. I don’t think it would be wise for me to get into that right now. But trust me, they have their reasons.”
“Fair enough,” he said, nodding in deference. “After all, I’m a man who can appreciate mystery.”
Without realizing it, he’d cleared his plate. Now full and satisfied, he followed the urge to explore the rest of the castle. He bid Sabina a proper goodbye, adding that he truly did mean to see her again soon. She said she was looking forward to it. When he stood up to leave, she stopped him.
“Anton, it isn’t my place to tell you too much, but perhaps you should have some clue as to what you’re getting yourself into working for this family. There’s a room at the end of the hallway, a treasury of the family’s relics, if you will. There might be some clues in what you find there, or rather, in what you don’t find there.”
He thanked her and strode off in search of the room.
He found it easily. While most of the doorways in the hall led to residential rooms, the one that stood at the far end had what he assumed was the family sigil- a lion with its head thrown back in a roar. He’d spotted the same image on flags and gates around the city and castle. Inside, he found shelves of ornate items, everything from dishes and candlesticks to shields and weaponry. The sight of daggers made him remember the laser pistol and dagger he’d slipped into the inner pockets of his vest. Some of the items made of gold or silver. An impressive set of two golden swords were displayed on one wall. They were crossed over the family sigil.
Curiously, though, there were many vacant spaces on the shelves with dust surrounding the spots where the bases had been. They looked like they’d been set aside for something and were moved only recently. He wondered if there was a second room containing the moved items, perhaps someplace more secure, where they couldn’t be so easily accessed. But if thievery was an issue, why would the family not simply seal up the room?
Unless…
“Admiring the family treasures, are you?”
Anton spun around to find Queen Orpha peeking through the doorway. She leaned against a wall.
“I wasn’t…”
“Oh don’t worry, I don’t think you were stealing,” she smiled. “If you wanted any of these old things for yourself, I’d like to think you’d have a more clever way of making them disappear.”
He relaxed a little.
The queen stepped into the room, gazing at the items as if she hadn’t seen them in a long time. She carried an elegance befitting her title. Her grey hairs distinguished her curly blonde locks, and she had the same rounded features that looked angelic on her daughter. A flowing gown twirled as she walked.
“Lovely treasures,” he said. “If I may ask, what happened to the missing ones?”
She sighed.
“My fool of a husband has the habit of indulging in excess. It’s a trait I both love and hate about him. A trait that doesn’t pay for itself. In a trying time such as this, we are forced to sell off some of our heirlooms.”
He felt a sudden pang of guilt for taking advantage of this trait, but it passed quickly. The end would certainly justify the means.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Oh, it isn’t much of a secret anymore,” she said. “There have been problems with the crops lately. We have enough to sustain ourselves, but not enough to sell to other kingdoms. Even the servants all know. I feel terrible, the way they flit about, worried each day that they’ll be the next one purged. Damned professionals, though. I’m willing to bet they haven’t shown you a bit of grief for taking yet another share of our pocketbook. No offense, I’d rather you hear it from me than anyone else.”
“That’s why you’re marrying off Petra, isn’t it? Those Dracos, they’re not hurting like you are?”
“That’s the idea,” she said. “I wish Petra liked the boy more. Well, I wish the boy was a bit more likeable. But this is how things are done. It may well benefit you, them showing up at this time. An in-house magician is hardly essential.”
“Entertainment is a staple in any happy life.”
She gave him a tired smile.
“How did you do that?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be magic.”
“But of course.” She turned and headed for the door. “I’ll see you soon, magician.”
***
Still not ready to turn in for the night, Anton wandered the halls a little longer. The castle seemed to shut down early. Though a few dwindling oil lamps still illuminated well enough to see, no one else wandered the halls. It was a peaceful feeling, to be truly alone and not under constant surveillance. What the past lacked in technology, it made up for in serene isolation.
That isolation was interrupted by faint clicking sounds as he passed by a closed door. He froze. His stomach lurched. He’d know that sound anywhere. The Draconian language was unmistakable. It seemed a pointless risk not to speak Jagarian, especially since they were so adept at it. But perhaps to a random passerby, they wouldn’t even think those inhuman clicks came from a living being. Anton, however, was no random passerby.
He tiptoed closer to the door and tried to make out what they were saying. Anton was not fluent in the strange language, but over the years he’d picked up on the basics of interpreting it. Even in his modern present, Draconians rarely spoke their native tongue in public, but Anton had spent a great deal of time with a recording device, saving every conversation he happened to come across. Computer analysis filled in the details.
Once at the door, he put his ear to it. It was hard to make out. Each of the clicking voices spoke over one another, and he couldn’t tell which belonged to whom. All he could do was make out certain words.
Poison. Transform. Blood. Harvest.
Anton shuddered. One voice overpowered the rest. He listened only to the tones for a moment. Though he still couldn’t pin a voice to its owner, he got the impression that there were four voices present. Perhaps it was possible that one of their underlings paid them a visit, but he didn’t think the Draconian guards were even staying in the castle. He shook the thought and tried again to interpret the words.
Outside. Listening.
Anton made a run for it. His new shoes slapped the ground loudly in the hallway. Luckily, a corner was only a moment’s dash away. The door creaked open just as he turned out of sight. Whichever Draconian had come out to investigate didn’t say a word at first. Anton huddled against the wall, trying to slow and quiet his breath. After several agonizing seconds, he heard the door shut again. The clicks continued, though fainte
r. He thought he heard the word for servant and hoped they interpreted the eavesdropping as a clueless butler passing by. There was no need to stick around for confirmation. He headed back for his quarters without another incident.
When he returned, he found Ana in power-saving mode, seated in the chair by the window. He flipped her on and explained what he’d seen, emphasizing the four menacing words he’d managed to comprehend.
“If I didn’t know the Draconians better,” he said. “I’d say they’re planning on killing the royal family and replacing them.”
“That does not seem logical,” Ana replied. “Why make themselves known as outsiders if they are to replace the family? And why prey upon a kingdom that is suffering financially? They will inherit the debts and a distrusting populace.”
Anton didn’t have a rebuttal. She was right. After all, the Draconians were known for keeping humans around, playing a slow, long game. He’d always wondered about that. Why not simply kill everyone and take the planet? Frustrated, he readied for sleep. They’d lived among his kind all his life, yet he felt he knew so little about them. He wished he hadn’t made himself known outside the door. Perhaps even a few more seconds could have revealed more secrets. They must have a bioscanner. He’d been all but totally silent.
With nothing else to say, he let Ana resume her robotic slumber. He laid in the bed for a long while, staring at the ceiling and guessing at the Draconian narrative. He drifted off no closer to an answer.
Chapter Eight
The sun was high when Anton awoke. Ana still sat where she’d been all night, and he decided to let her recharge in the light that streamed through the window. He dressed and went for breakfast.
He recognized several faces in the dining hall as servants, but most seemed to be finishing their meals and returning to work. Still groggy, he only wanted to sit quietly and eat the plate of pork chops and eggs that were promptly put before him. They tasted exquisite. A few bites into his breakfast, Gregor entered the room and headed straight toward him. He still wore the same formal robe.
