Modern Magic
Page 190
What if it was not?
There was only one way to find out some answers.
“Why me?” Sarah asked. “What am I really doing here?”
The stone castle peeked over the lush evergreen and powder blue hues of the thriving Northern Forest. Twilight crept slowly onto the home of the Ministers of Souls.
“All in good time,” Marion responded. “Behold the palace of Queen Zoë.”
He pointed to the tips of the castle’s stone towers that seemed to be nestled into the violet purple sky. A few bright specs of distant stars lazily winked in the frigid night sky.
They moved closer to the castle and Sarah began to relax, as the arrival at the castle meant she could get away from the disgusting danker beasts. Not to mention, perhaps she would meet with Queen Zoë and persuade her to order Marion back to Solis to rescue her sister.
The snapping of twigs and the rustling of leaves were the only indication that they were not alone in the forest, as Marion had mentioned earlier. Just because they could not see the animals did not mean they were not there and when night completely blanketed the forest, those animals would acquaint themselves in the most violent way.
The trail snaked and circled upward towards the castle. It was worn despite the unyielding ground. The frozen prints of former danker beasts lined the trail that Marion and Sarah now marched over. She could only see the tip of the full moon above the alpine trees. This section of the Northern Forest was quieter and the snow seemed more recent. Fluffy and dust-like, the snow remained undisturbed.
The heavy breathing of the danker beasts and their expulsion of gas caused Sarah to choke. Their breath blew frozen clouds into the air; the sound added to the chorus of nocturnal creatures. The smell of decaying flesh spread with every breath of wind.
Marion snorted and finally allowed himself to observe Sarah. Since the rescue at the Circle, Marion had anticipated the moment when he would get the chance to observe her without the threat of her running away or throwing him one of her fiery looks.
Sarah had draped another heavy wool blanket over her shoulders. The edges, tattered and frayed, were pulled tightly across her slender shoulders. A thick braid hung to the small of her back and a few tiny spiral curls had escaped and floated along the front of her face.
Letting his eyes roam over her lovely oval face, Marion found it difficult to pinpoint what made Sarah so alluring. It was not just those green eyes, that when vexed grew large and round then dark like the deepest emerald. Nor was it just her skin, which was the color of honey and demanded that he reach out and run his finger along her cheek and taste her sweetness.
“What?” Sarah asked as she caught his heated gaze.
“Nothing,” he gruffly replied with a small playful smile.
* * *
Sarah remained quiet; the dimly lit forest did nothing to comfort her. The blanket only slightly warmed her and she could no longer feel her feet or toes. It was not the vacant feel that was associated with the soul cages; it was the numb stinging and biting of nerves freezing.
“The evenings are the worst,” Marion explained as he watched her shudder. He had no idea she would be so poorly dressed for Veloris’s climate. He had only been to Solis once or twice and the slaves never wore clothes. Rags were more like it. Yet he should have been prepared to have more clothes for her. Orono’s appearance at the Circle was a surprise.
Marion grunted to himself. He hated surprises.
“I will not be here long enough to find out,” Sarah curtly replied.
Just the sound of his voice caused Sarah’s teeth to clench. Valek she hated, but Marion she was growing to dislike as well. Not exactly the best way to embrace a rescuer, but he could easily turn into one of Valek’s henchmen.
Sarah studied the brand on Marion’s left bicep. The brand that had been burned into his flesh, the skin around the burn had scarred horribly. No one would voluntarily submit to such pain. The muscles under the tattoo caused it to appear to move around when they did, this was no magic; the tattoo was real.
“It is real; I am really a Minister Knight,” Marion replied to Sarah’s critical stare.
Sarah averted her eyes to the trail ahead, after a few seconds she observed Marion out of the corner of her eye.
It was now Sarah’s turn to observe him. The danker beast was enormous, but the huge beast did not diminish his size.
Unaffected by the harsh climate, he only wore the black leather pants and the heavy boots. Around his waist was what Sarah could only call a sword. Indeed it was a sword, at least as long as her arm. On his back was the shield that had saved her from a return trip to the cages.
His glasses rested on top of his naked head, he had a commanding attitude, one commonly found on those in charge. Stern and unsmiling, Marion could be quite terrifying.
Sarah remembered his ferociousness during her rescue and shuddered. But at the same time, when he smiled, he lit up the forest. He was more handsome than any prince or king that Sarah had ever saw in the storybooks her mother read her as a child. That too was long before the cages.
After such a careful evaluation she discovered she was no closer to deciding if he was a knight in shining armor or a nightmare lying in wait.
“There it is,” Marion sighed in relief as if he did not expect to see it ever again. “Home.”
“You are anxious to get there?” Marion called as Sarah coaxed her danker beast passed him towards the castle in a quickened trot.
Tapestries with gold and silver M’s and white backgrounds hung from the outside walls. Shrubs the color of blue, red and orange lined the areas to the left and right of the door. Gray weathered stones stacked together in a pattern of interlocking rocks were cemented together and rose towards the sky, slivers of windows were sparingly scattered across the stony structure.
The thin air ripped violently through the trees, whistling and moaning as if disturbed by the presence of the two on danker beasts. Sarah shuddered as she waited outside the massive castle that stretched up towards the now full moon draped in darkening purple.
“This is it?” she asked in disbelief.
Marion guided the danker beast to the door. There was no need to knock for as soon as Marion approached the door disappeared.
Just across the threshold, he leapt off the danker beast. Inside the castle, people hurried about towards various duties despite the late hour. A group of young children noisily played a game of marbles; there were several enormous hearths that cast shadows across the walls. The castle was much more capacious inside than what one was lead to believe when standing outside.
Above the chaos, a shout of joy could be heard. Sarah descended the danker beast and watched as a young man shoved people out of the way as he raced towards them. He jumped over the fruit cart, and then sidestepped one of the bakers and a tray of hot rolls.
The red leather pants threatened to rip as the man continued to run. He hurdled himself over a row of chairs and did not break a sweat.
Marion’s face darkened like an approaching thunderstorm as he took off his sword. He watched with mounting displeasure at the young man’s agility.
“Marion!” The young man yelled as the crowd of servants paid no attention to his yells, except to get out of his way.
The young man ran directly into him, nearly knocking off Marion’s glasses. He then grabbed the slightly bigger Marion in a bear hug. He, too, was shirtless from the waist up. He was not even breathing hard.
Marion said, “Let go, Kalah, you are ruining my hardened image.”
Sarah inched further into the foyer. She studied the young man that stood face to face with Marion.
He was only an inch or two shorter than Marion, but despite this his chest was just as wide and brawny. Kalah had a few tightly coiled blonde hairs sprinkled across his chest.
He had the same pale gray eyes, but his nose was skinnier and his lips thinner than Marion’s. He was not unhandsome; he simply paled next to Marion.
“My a
pologies, brother,” Kalah’s voice held the hopefulness of youth. It was apparent to Sarah that Kalah had not been exposed to cynics or apathy.
Or the cages.
“Been busy in my absence?” Marion slapped Kalah affectionately on the back. “Little brother?”
He then reached to rub Kalah’s bald head.
Kalah’s youth reminded Sarah again of Amana. Amana, before the cages, was hopeful and full of life, goals and dreams. Her grief left a lump in her throat.
The delicious smell of roasted meat made Sarah’s stomach growl loudly. It had been ages since she felt the pang of hunger, due to her life being vacant of a soul while imprisoned in the cages. Marion touched Sarah gently on the shoulder and said, “Come, let us eat, and then find you some warm clothes.”
“My apology, my lady,” Kalah said as he turned his gray eyes to Sarah.
“No problem,” she said, as suddenly her feet had begun to thaw and ache from the icy trek through the forest. The day had been lengthy and she longed to rest. Despite Kalah’s warm greetings to both her and Marion, she sensed tension in the air that seemed to come with his arrival.
Picking one of the torches from the wall, Kalah lead the way to the East Dining Hall. As they walked towards the East Wing, the noise of the main entranceway grew less. The hallway also grew narrower, only Kalah and Marion could fit the width of the hallway together. Sarah walked behind the two, silently watching the various paintings of persons draped in robes of rich colors and jewelry.
“Was the mission difficult?” Kalah asked in a more serious tone than that of the playful brother he had used earlier in the foyer. The excitement of Marion’s return had died just as abruptly as it began.
“Orono was surprised!” Marion said proudly. “But Valek has destroyed several of the Circles on Solis. Escape from there will become nearly impossible before long. We will need to act soon.”
“Impossible!” Kalah stopped short in disbelief. “Surely not…”
Shaking his head dolefully, Marion said, “It is true.” Taking a deep breath, gradually letting it out, then said, “He grows stronger still.”
“Queen Zoë must be told at once.” Kalah pounded his fist into his huge palm. Thick fingers curled around into a clenched fist.
“How is she?” A concerned look wrinkled Marion’s smooth complexion.
“She asks for you every rotation,” Kalah grudgingly disclosed.
“What does Octiva say?” Marion turned to look at Kalah. Sarah noted again how much the two looked alike, almost mirror images of the other. Even now the concern for the Queen Zoë was reflected in both faces. But the younger one, Kalah seemed tense…almost angry where just moments…
Kalah did not answer and Marion searched his brother’s face before turning to go back down the hallway, past Sarah and towards the main entranceway leaving her alone with his little brother.
Kalah turned to her and said; “I will show you to your room. Food will be brought in for you.”
“My room?” she questioned as they started again down the hall towards the east.
“Why, yes,” he remarked surprised at her question.
“But I thought…”
“You are not a prisoner; you are a guest,” he answered Sarah’s unasked question.
They reached the end of the narrow hallway, which led them to the East Wing Dining Hall. It was a sizable open room complete with three wooden dining tables, wooden benches and people cleaning the remaining scraps of meat and meal from the table and floors.
To the left of the hall was a staircase that led to the second floor. Kalah pointed and the two started up the steps with him slightly ahead.
The dimly lit staircase curling along to the second floor felt chilly as her bare feet stepped timidly onto each step. Gritty patches were unavoidable and the grimy feeling when Sarah stepped on it would cause her stomach to turn. Candelabras secured tightly to the wall with iron-like brackets in the drafty stairway failed to cast enough light.
The second floor hallway was short. There were three doors: two on the right and one on the left. A sliver of a window covered with a greenish-white glass was at the end of the Hallway.
“This is your room.” Kalah stopped at the only door on the left side of the hallway. Turning the knob, he shoved open the heavy wooden door as if it were a feather. Sarah could feel the fear stick in her throat making it hard for her to swallow. She inched into the room behind him, careful not to walk into him.
The room ran the length of the hallway. A window, identical to the one in the hallway, adorned the far wall.
Sarah let out a scream as her foot felt something furry and she jumped back from where she was standing. Kalah moved the torch toward her and in the illumination and she discovered a rug. It was furry and made of some animal, which she had never seen. Blushing, she chuckled nervously.
“It is a danker rug,” Kalah said before moving to the fireplace just across from a huge sleigh bed. The room was soon washed in light once he tossed the diminished torch into the fireplace.
He said, “The bed is made of a heavy wooden frame and springs made with interlaced strips of leathers that have been overlaid with a feather mattress. You should find this room very comfortable.”
Sarah sat down cautiously on the bed and touched the thick blanket. She eagerly pulled the blanket back and ran her hand across the crisp white sheets.
“Danker…as in danker beast?” she asked as she sniffed the air for the animal’s distinct smell.
“Yes, but this one’s fur has been washed several times and perfumed,” Kalah explained with an amused smile.
The room held a warm glow as the fire chased the arctic chills away. It was sparsely furnished; the bed was the only major piece of furniture. The room was more long than wide with the fireplace and bed occupying the area closest to the door.
Further down the length of the room was an abandoned rocking chair with a woven basket beside it filled with balls of yarn and two knitting needles. Light from the nearby window illuminated the chair in a silver glow.
“This is it.” He wearily waved his hand towards the window and behind him to the fireplace. The smell of rain and smoke stained the room, giving it the drafty smell of a dungeon.
Sarah crept over to the window and looked out. Whispers of cold air squeezed through the almost invisible spaces between the stone castle and the window’s glass. Directly across from her room, she could make out a cluster of homely cottages, all one level and all constructed in a circular pattern. Some of the cottages had illumination; she could just make out flickering candles. To the left of the cluster of cottages, the beginnings of the Northern Forest stretched its blackening tree limbs towards the small cluster of homes as if reaching out for the light.
Kalah kneeled over the fireplace and placed a round, ceramic pot over the fire by taking a metal rod and suspending the pot via a metal loop over the fire. The pot was battered and dented…heavily used. She wondered how long it had been sitting there.
“What’s that?”
“Evening meal, for you,” he replied as he placed the utensils on the fireplace and around the poker. “Marion or I will come to notify you for meals in the future.”
He moved closer to the door. “Do not leave the castle. Although you are a guest here, you are too valuable to lose.”
“Why?” she asked as she squatted in front of the warm fire.
He sighed noisily before saying, “Later. Now, eat, sleep and rest.”
He turned to go and she saw the brand on his left biceps.
“You are a Minister too?”
“Yes,” Kalah answered before closing the door.
“But –” she stammered. The door slammed shut as Kalah left, before she could ask any more questions. She could not hear his boots as he walked down the stairs. Nice fellow, she smirked. She wondered if he got that attitude from Marion.
Two feather pillows and a couple of additional blankets lay on the bed. Beside the blanket a flannel gow
n and socks seemed to be casually placed. Sarah quickly took off her clothes and put on the much warmer gown and socks, noting the full softness and fuzziness. Her toes wiggled in the soft comfort of the socks and she felt the gown again and again, relishing her ability to feel and touch. The cages stripped her of those feelings and abilities for years. Each new sensation—the smell of the fire, the crackling of the wood as it burned, and the softness of her flannel gown overwhelmed her senses.
Kalah had started a pot of stew. She used her top to awkwardly remove the hot lid. Directly next to the fire were bowls, wooden spoons and a bunch of blue logs haphazardly piled together.
Using the spoon, she made herself a small dinner. She rolled the meat and vegetables around in her mouth before swallowing. Morsels of meat flavored with spices Sarah could not identify melted in her mouth and the enticing aroma soon filled the room. She decided the meal was good and greedily ate two more bowls before climbing into bed.
Her feet ached and had begun to dry. She removed her socks and climbed out of bed. She kneeled next to the cooling pot of stew and dipped her socks. The water was not hot but warm. She wrung the excess liquid from the socks and gently placed her injured feet back into them.
Yawning loudly, Sarah crawled beneath the blankets and finally slept.
Chapter Four
The sun rose with pale streaming rays of light that illuminated Sarah’s room, forcing her to greet the new day. Blue smoke floated up, spiraling into the crisp morning air from the extinguished fire from last night.
“Wake up.” Marion shook her gently allowing his fingers to straighten one of her corkscrew curls before releasing it to spring back into its taut spiral. Licking his lips nervously he squatted closer to her bedside.
“Up,” she mumbled, as she remained buried beneath the blanket, only her curls could be seen.
“The room, is it to your liking?” Marion asked softly.
He touched her again, this time on the shoulder, sliding down the blanket with his fingers that seemed to have a mind of their own as they curled themselves around the free strands of her hair, across her parted lips and on to her smooth cheeks.