by C B Samet
I gave Hans an appreciative nod.
Some of the color had returned to his face. “My father gave a guest lecture at Parvia University on the southern peninsula.”
“Then, we have a guide,” I announced triumphantly, though I suspected Baird already orchestrated such. “The only place I’ve been is outside Kovo. What’s the closest you’ve been to the mines?”
Before Hans could answer, Baird spoke. “I know what you’re thinking, Abigail, but we don’t know into what conditions we might be transporting. Also, the only way to keep our bearings on the map would be to travel without the star.”
I frowned, but couldn’t disagree. “The train it is, then. If the Kovian trains are like the ones in Crithos, they’ll have livestock quarters so we can still take the horses for the off-rail portions of our trip.”
Coco arrived at the stables carrying a saddle pack, water canteen, and tent roll. She gave a quick glance at our group and greeted Baird curtly. Baird introduced her to Hans.
As Coco left to fetch her horse, I turned an inquisitive gaze toward Baird. He mounted and patiently dealt with Butterfly’s shifting weight without acknowledging my look.
My understanding was that Baird and Coco had courted for a short time after the Hunju civil war but found they weren’t compatible. I assumed it had to do with her ambition to be Captain of the Guard—thus confining her to the castle. Her behavior suggested it was at least partially his fault.
Baird scowled at me.
There’s a story you haven’t told me, I privately communicated, since Hans stood close enough to hear spoken words.
And you’ve no business knowing it, he retorted.
I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously, but he didn’t reply.
Coco emerged with a black gelding, sporting a black leather saddle. The horse boasted two hands in height over Phobus, and his hide shimmered a gleaming obsidian.
“He’s a beauty,” I said.
“He’s from the Queen’s royal stock. His name is Prince.”
I scratched behind one ear, which earned me a jealous snicker from my own horse.
Coco stopped in her tracks, seeing the wolf for the first time. She gaped at Fury, who’d been patiently waiting away from the stables. I had seldom seen true fear on Coco’s face, but the brief expression was unmistakable—before it transformed into irritation.
“He’s my companion. His name is Fury.” Baird explained.
“You never had a wolf.”
“Abigail gave him to me. He’s still young.”
Coco gave me the briefest, frosty glower before jerking her head back to Baird. “You don’t have a leash for it?”
“A leash?” Hans scoffed playfully as he mounted Unis, oblivious to the tension between Coco and Baird. “Put a saddle on him. He’s big enough to ride!”
Coco speared a diminutive glance at Hans, but he’d already turned Unis away and missed her icy glare.
Coco mounted Prince in one smooth motion, her ponytail swishing to one side. I found myself inspecting the bare skin on her arms and neck. No rash.
“Are the other teams off?” I asked.
“Lieutenant Jok and his crew are off to Ntajid, but Lieutenant Guy fell ill. They’re finding a new team leader for Karnelik.”
I started to mount Phobus when I hesitated.
“To Kovia?” Coco asked.
I shook my head. “I can get the Blood Stone. Orrick knows the land.” So did Mal, but of this group, only Baird knew of my personal guardian angel—er—prince of darkness. Regardless, Mal was intangible, so he couldn’t help me transport to any caves in Karnelik. I still needed Orrick.
“That will delay getting the bats. That is our assignment.” Coco adjusted her seat in her saddle.
I looked up at her. “I can do it faster. Ride east, and when I’m done, I’ll let Baird know, and he can come get me.”
I lifted my reins to Baird. “Will you take Phobus and Carrot?” Neither of my companions would appreciate me taking them into a dark cave.
He nodded. “You should take Fury, though.”
“How will Baird let you know where we are?” Hans asked.
I would let Baird explain that one.
I turned to Raven. “You with me?”
She gave a crooked grin as she leaped from Phobus’ neck onto my shoulder, and then skittered down my arm to land on Fury’s neck. Her splendid agility was a sight to behold. The wolf didn’t seem to mind a small rider.
“Where should we begin?” Baird asked Coco and Hans.
I grabbed my water from my saddle pack and threw the strap over my shoulder.
“Not a town or city,” Coco replied. “We don’t want to appear suddenly in a populated area and provoke fear, nor do we want to land amongst the ill and acquire the sickness ourselves.”
“I’ve only been to cities on Kovia. They’ll all be populated,” Hans warned.
Baird scratched his chin. “We can start outside Meredith then, east of Lake Wahla. Then ride to Moonshadow canal and take the ferry across to Moontown on Kovia. We can board the Kovian railway there.”
As they prepared to transport, I cautioned Coco, “I know your Prince is royalty, but he’s never transported abruptly. He may spook.”
She blinked irritably, but I noticed her grip tightened on the reins.
They formed a line side-by-side—Hans, then Baird, then Coco—each touching their adjacent rider. Then they vanished.
I opened a palm to the wolf. Fury, well-trained in the art of travel, lifted a paw for me to touch. We instantly transported.
11
Fury, Raven, and I materialized at the edge of the Black Marsh forest and walked our way back to the brownie camp, carefully avoiding the trip wires. Fury stayed dutifully at my heel, watching his surroundings warily.
Winding my way through the woods, I greeted several of the brownies I’d met over the years—Rabbit, Brown Bear, Hawk Eyes, Rooster, and Ferret. I nodded to Grey Wolf when we encountered him and saw his eyes widen at the sight of Fury. In all there were thirty little pairs of eyes staring at us, all surprised to see us so soon.
“I didn’t expect to be back here again already,” Raven grumbled.
“We won’t stay long.”
We reached Orrick’s home. Before I could lift a hand to knock on the door, the wizard swung it open.
Startled, I stammered, “Wizard Oak.”
“Abigail.” He tipped his head. “Welcome back.”
He wore gray robes and carried a woven sack, which appeared to be full. “You’ve come to take me on an adventure.” His eyes shone bright and his smile was broad. “I’ve packed snacks and water. I couldn’t see where we were going—somewhere dark—but I’m ready.”
I gaped at him. “You had a premonition I was coming for you?”
“Wonderful, isn’t it? It struck me a half hour after you left this morning.”
The timing might have been better if he’d seen it before I left, but he was fortuitously packed and already motivated to go.
“Um,” Raven began in a hushed tone, “what about your illness?” She looked around skeptically at the watchful brownies on trees.
The old wizard leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “I’ll tell them I’m better.”
He motioned with a hand for us to move. “Lead the way, Champion.”
I whirled and began walking back through the brownie camp—with a wolf, a brownie, and a wizard in tow. “Can I carry something for you?”
“I’ll manage,” he replied.
Grey Wolf caught up to us as we passed back through brownie town. He brought the squirrel he rode to a halt on a tree branch. “What is this?” he barked.
“I need to borrow the wizard. It’s important,” I said.
Grey Wolf looked back and forth between me and Orrick.
“I’m better,” Orrick said, still maintaining his broad smile.
“But—”
“I don’t have time to explain,” I interrupted. “I’ll bri
ng him back.”
Grey Wolf narrowed his eyes at me. Since several hundred generations of brownies had looked after the oak, my confiscation of Orrick would cause alarm. The leader of the brownies opened his mouth.
“I will bring him back,” I repeated. “Raven will make sure of it.”
She nodded.
“You’d better,” Grey Wolf warned, keeping his eyes locked with mine.
Orrick and I resumed walking, the sound of gasps and astonished murmurs retreating behind us. Soon, we progressed beyond the village.
“What’s the quest?” Orrick asked.
Raven glanced at him. “You’re so eager to go on a quest that you didn’t even wait to learn the details before packing?”
“Yes.”
I chuckled, thinking of his complaint yesterday about the brownies’ oppressive presence. “We need to fetch the Blood Stone. The last known location was the caves in Karnelik.”
“In the mountains?”
“At the base of the mountains but nearer the city. I thought you might know something of the caves, since you were raised in Karnelik.”
“Caves under the city?” His brow furrowed. “Those aren’t caves. Those are tunnels. The tunnels of the catacombs of my parents’ castle.”
“Tunnels? Surely no part of your castle could have survived thousands of years.” The Karnelik I knew was a town of homes and stores, most of which belonged to metal forgers. There was no trace of a seven-thousand-year-old castle—at least not above ground.
Orrick swatted at a bug. “Those tunnels were made of stone and Ballik ore. Nothing is stronger. If someone documented caves in that area, they likely connect to the catacombs.”
Splendid. I’d be foraging among corpses for the Blood Stone.
I stepped over a log. “What do you know about the Blood Stone?”
“Purification. It’s especially good for poisons, but works on any disease circulating the blood stream.”
“So, the Healing Stone is better for trauma and the Blood Stone is better for poisons and blood-borne diseases?”
“Correct. Did you know Malakai had been poisoned? Perhaps if we’d had control of the Blood Stone at the time, events would have unfolded differently.”
“Malakai wouldn’t have become Malos.”
“What do you think, brother?” Orrick asked to the air. “I was skeptical of Mother’s plan and refused. Would you have done it even if you weren’t poisoned?”
Mal appeared and walked backwards a few meters in front of us. He wore a contemplative expression.
“Who is he talking to?” Raven asked, glancing at Orrick skeptically. “He did that in his home, too. He asked you if Malakai was with us. You nodded, but no one else was there.”
“I can see the ghost of Orrick’s brother, Malakai.”
“Huh. What does he look like?”
Mal replied, “Tall, dark, and seductively handsome.”
“A pudgy midget with green skin,” I lied.
“Really?” Raven asked.
“No. He’s human—tall but a few centimeters shorter than Orrick. He has dark eyes and dark hair. Looks about thirty years of age.”
“Does he haunt you?”
I grinned at Mal. “Yes. Yes, he does.”
Orrick spoke again. “If you knew it would save Anastasia, would you have made the transformation without being on your deathbed first?”
“Who’s Anastasia?” Raven and I asked in unison.
“Hmm.” The sound emitted as a low rumble from Orrick.
I wondered if Wizard Oak was surprised I didn’t know or now regretted mentioning an obviously personal detail.
Mal continued walking as he spoke, “She was the love of my life—when I had life. And she chose to go to war for Karnelik, rather than stay with me. She was the epitome of bravery, and grace, and self-sacrifice. My transformation to Malos, and absorption of evil, enabled her to live.”
I swallowed, but it didn’t ease the ache in my heart I felt for him. “But then she had to live without you.”
“She found happiness.” He sounded at peace with the concept.
Mal had obviously had many millennia to accept what had happened to him: The choices he’d made—or was forced to make.
I tried to assess how I would feel if I died and Joshua found another love.
Yes, I’d want that for him. I would wish him happiness, even if I couldn’t provide it myself.
“What’s he saying?” Raven asked.
“He loved Anastasia. He had to leave her when he became Malos.”
“Malos is who you defeated as the Avant Champion?”
“Yes.”
“And now he’s a ghost who haunts you?”
“Yes.”
“Seems unfair to save so many lives and be rewarded with your enemy’s ghost, forever haunting you.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” I mused.
Mal narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re being ungrateful.”
When we reached the edge of the forest, Orrick gazed across the marsh stretching before us. His eyes blinked in the brightness of a bland, bluish gray sky.
“Wonderful,” he said, in sheer astonishment.
“Hmm. You say that because you’ve never had to hike through it.”
He looked down at me.
I elaborated, “Kilometer after kilometer of mud, and muck, and insects—and if that isn’t enough fun, add in giant snakes.”
He stroked his beard. “Oh, yes. The Black Marsh adder. It’s good they’re not extinct after all these years of being hunted by Hunju.”
I blinked at him. “You only say that because you’ve never been bitten by one.” I rubbed a hand along my thigh, vividly remembering the horrible pain of such a wound.
“Anyway,” I hooked an arm through his, “we don’t have to cross it now. I need you to concentrate on where you think the cave or castle entrance might be on the northeastern-most corner at the base of the mountains. Hold an image of the location in your mind, and I’ll transport us there.”
He closed his eyes and nodded. “Done.”
Fury gave me his paw. “The travel can be disorienting and nauseating the first few times.”
Orrick patted my arm, keeping his eyes closed.
I continued, “We don’t want to be inside the castle or cave, because the architecture may be different than you remember owing to wear and tear and ceiling collapses. I don’t want to know what happens if we land within a kiloton of rock.”
“I’m ready.”
I transported us, and tall pine trees materialized around us. The air turned crisp and dry. Beneath us was ... nothing but air. Ten meters below flashed the dirt and rock.
“What the—?”
Raven screamed as she clutched Fury.
I corrected our position to a few centimeters above the ground, but we were already falling. We landed on our feet, but Orrick and I crumpled to our knees from the force of the fall. Fury remained nimble and upright.
I helped Orrick to his feet. “What was that? Were you a flying wizard when you lived here?”
He looked around, as though expecting to see something he would recognize. “This must represent several thousand years of the ground settling.”
I scanned our location. Among the trees and rocks and foliage, no obvious cave entrance presented itself. I turned south, away from the mountains. “We need to find an entrance, assuming there still is one.”
“Over here!” Mal called.
“Oh, your brother is making himself useful after all,” I told Orrick as I helped him step from one rock to another. I led everyone toward the sound of Mal’s voice.
“Did he find it already?” Orrick asked.
“That, or he’s found another orphan cub for me to shelter.”
“What do you mean?”
“He introduced me to Fury one stormy, blizzard day.”
We reached Mal, who was pointing toward a downward climb that led to a path between two large boulders. The path was ob
scured by ferns, and I knew I’d never have found it without Mal.
Step by step, I eased down the embankment, watching Orrick and being prepared to help him if he slipped. His footage stayed secure.
When we reached the bottom, we followed the path into a gaping cave. Soon, the darkness enveloped us. I activated my Che stone with my will, but the darkness was so encompassing—and my stone nearly completely covered by the wood casing around it—that we only gained a little visibility, immediately in front of us. I pried off the wooden cover, but the light still extended only a meter.
“Do you have a spell of light?” I asked Orrick.
“Use your moon magic.”
“How do I do that?”
“Let the moon magic glow within you and around you. Will it, the same way you will the magic of the Che stone.”
I concentrated on thinking of light—pure white light—as I imagined the beauty of Mother Moon. The cave lit. I blinked to adjust my eyes as a soft white glow emitted from within me and lit our way. Every exposed surface of my skin was illuminated.
“Spectacular.” Raven’s voice held genuine awe for once, rather than her usual sarcasm.
Mal stood with his arms by his side and his mouth slightly open.
“What are you staring at?”
He blinked. “You’re glowing.”
He took a step back and slipped his hands into his pockets. A grin spread across his face. “Shall we call you Baby Moon?”
“I was thinking more Moon Goddess,” I retorted, striking a pose with my hands extended dramatically over my head.
From her seat on the back of Fury, Raven kicked a tiny foot into my calf.
“Ow.”
Mal leaned closer, and his voice turned sultry. “To make that determination I’d have to see you in less clothing. Do you glow everywhere, I wonder?”
I lowered my hands and cleared my throat.
“Everything okay?” Orrick asked.
“Fine.” I began walking deeper into the cave. “Your brother was being ... well, himself.”
Behind me, Mal chuckled.
As we walked deeper into the caves, we were forced to stoop and then crawl over a pile of rocks. The cave soon transformed from walls of natural rock into an organized structure of hand-laid stone.
