Ashes

by C B Samet

  “Underground castle it is,” I said.

  “This was once our home.” Mal’s voice filled with raw emotion.

  I turned to Orrick. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. I’m honored to have the privilege to see these walls again, and I’m humbled by the memory of friends and family long since passed.”

  The walkway led to a large room. I watched Fury. He was a ball of tightly-coiled observation, his ears perked and nostrils flaring, but at no point did he seem to sense a threat.

  Orrick stopped. He mumbled something followed by a shout. “Illuminate!”

  A ring of glowing golden light circled the ceiling, revealing a large, oval chamber where we stood. Tall stone pillars surrounded us interspersed with square and rectangular shapes representing windows—long since filled with dirt and rock.

  “This was the announcement and banquet hall,” Orrick said.

  “This is where they announced the death of the king,” Mal added.

  He referred to his father.

  Raven shifted her weight on my shoulder. “I’ve never seen a room so big.”

  “We’re not at the level of the catacombs though.” Orrick turned in a slow circle. We need to go down a level.”

  “Northeast stairs.” Both men spoke simultaneously.

  Mal led the way and I followed. As we left the illuminated room, my moon magic gave us light once again. We wound down stone steps, as the air grew staler and more dank. Thick wooden doors, which appeared to be petrified, sealed off several rooms.

  We followed the tunnel to the right and reached a juncture. Straight ahead, the hallway appeared caved in. To our left a door of stone towered to the ceiling. On our right, the hallway continued.

  As I turned right, Orrick turned left. I stopped and turned back to him.

  He placed a hand on the long-petrified door, as if caressing it. “Mother’s in there.”

  Mal walked through the wall.

  Moments later, he returned and gave a quick nod.

  “You’re right,” I told Orrick. “Mal confirmed it.”

  I turned to Mal. “Did you see any signs of the Blood Stone?”

  “I did not, but I can’t see well in the dark. I’ll go back and perform a more thorough search.”

  As Mal left again, Orrick still stood motionless, facing the door.

  I placed a hand on his arm. The last time he’d seen his mother, he’d fought with her, refusing to become the vessel for evil as she’d wanted. She’d cursed him to the oak tree, trapping him there for generations.

  I felt for Orrick, and I wanted to give him time to spend by his mother’s tomb—but time was working against us.

  “I’ll bring you back,” I promised. “I can force the door open, but I worry about causing a cave in.” Could I force a door open which had been sealed for seven thousand years? Even my strength had limits.

  Orrick turned to me. “You could try, but mother has warded this place. Her magic and skillful craftsmanship are the reason this much of the castle survived.”

  He patted my arm. “Come. I’ll visit her another day. Today, we save lives.”

  Thirty meters further down the corridor revealed another pile of rocks, blocking the only path left to us.

  How could we ever find a stone in this place? “Another dead end.”

  “Maybe not.” Raven pointed at a rat, as it scurried up the rocks and through a hole in them, disappearing from the intrusive glow of my moon magic.

  She leaned forward. “Get closer. I’ll climb through.”

  When I stood near enough to the rocks, Raven jumped onto one and crawled up into the hole she’d spotted.

  “Watch out for the rat,” I warned.

  “I can communicate with small animals, remember?”

  Orrick and I waited.

  Mal returned. “As far as I can tell, no stone is in her tomb—unless it’s hidden in her coffin. The other path is solid rock and dirt for ten meters.”

  “Raven is inspecting this path.”

  A moment later, she called, “It’s too dark. Abbey, stick an arm through the hole so I can see.”

  I started to advance my fist, but hesitated. “You’ll tell that rat not to bite me?”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “You’re afraid of a rat?” Mal asked.

  I grimaced as I turned to look at Mal. “It was a big rat,” I said defensively. I slowly pushed my arm into the hole and tried not to imagine chunky teeth gnawing on my flesh.

  Mal leaned forward and inspected the hole my arm now filled. “Couldn’t have been that big.”

  “How about you be helpful and look around with Raven, instead of standing there harassing me?”

  Mal grinned, before walking into and through the solid rocks.

  Orrick shook his head. “I don’t have to hear both sides of the conversation to understand all of it. Do you two always carry on like this?”

  “Mostly.”

  “Found it!” Raven called.

  “Can you carry it back through? Or drop it in my hand?”

  “Sure—when pigs fly. You try picking up a boulder half your size—without your magic stone.”

  “Okay. Is the room big enough for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Touch my hand and imagine us standing in the middle of the room.”

  A small hand touched mine. I blinked and brought us into the chamber. The small room was lined with sarcophaguses. They were either unmarked or the etchings had worn off long ago. Everything was coated in a dense layer of dust and dirt, and black moss clung to the mortar between the stone bricks, stretching its fuzzy tentacles ever upward.

  In the center of the small room stood an empty stone pillar. I wondered if whatever it had once held had been stolen long ago.

  On a small, carved recess of worn stone, sat the Blood Stone—a deep, dark red that was almost black. The stone was bigger than any Che stone I’d ever seen. I looked around the room again. Why here? Had whomever hidden it here intended to fetch it again later? Had he or she been prevented from doing so due to the collapse of the ceiling?

  I grasped the large, cool stone. “Let’s go.”

  Raven crawled up my arm to my shoulder.

  “Wait,” Mal said.

  12

  I turned to Mal, who was staring at the stone pillar in the center of the room.

  “I remember seeing this. I remember Mother would turn the dial on top to open it.”

  “It opens?” I saw a layer of dust, but nothing resembling a dial.

  “Yes. Place your hands on it and turn it counter-clockwise.”

  I started to protest—to explain that we didn’t have time for seven-thousand-year-old hidden compartments, but his earnest voice stopped me. When had Mal ever asked me for anything for himself, in earnest? Not once.

  I set the Blood Stone down, grasped the top of the stone pillar, and tried to turn it. It wouldn’t budge. I attempted again, this time using the Warrior Stone. Something metallic sounded from within. It creaked, and then finally gave way. A piece of stone moved aside to reveal a hidden compartment.

  “Great. Another opportunity to stick my hand into a dark hole.”

  I glanced at Mal, who was waiting impatiently. Sighing, I reached down, deep inside the pillar. In the darkness, my fingers grasped something cool and smooth. When I pulled it out, I found myself holding a cylindrical object made of glass. Etched into the glass were blue markings. The glow from my moon magic shone partially through the semi transparent white glass. The complex structure seemed to be made of seven pieces, all fixed around a central shaft.

  Mal peered closer at the object.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I’m not entirely certain. I remember seeing it in Mother’s library.”

  “Do you know these markings?”

  “Yes. Ancient Karnelik. It looks like some type of puzzle box.”

  The room began to shake and rumble, causing my heart to leap into my throat. Fine dust and loose dirt
shimmied from the walls. Had forcing the pillar open caused disruption of the stability of this ancient room?

  With Raven on my shoulder, I snatched the Blood Stone and transported us to the other side of the fallen rocks. There, I reached for Orrick. The rumbling reverberated around us, as if we stood in the belly of a hungry beast.

  I glanced up.

  “Look out!” Mal called.

  As I lunged for Orrick, Raven leaped to Fury’s back. A boulder fell from above, missing Orrick’s torso. He cried out in pain. At first, I thought his outburst was from me landing on top of him. Then, I saw the stone block had landed squarely on his ankle.

  I coughed out dust and my eyes watered. Fury and Raven appeared uninjured. After touching a hand to Fury. I whisked us all to the edge of the Healing Springs.

  I blinked against the bright sun, as our surroundings turned from a dark and dusty cave to a hot spring with wooden patios beneath a blazing sun.

  “Let me help you dip your foot in the water.” After setting down the stone and the glass artifact, I carefully took off Orrick’s shoe.

  Together, we moved him closer and eased his foot into the effervescent water.

  Fury sniffed at the water.

  “What is this place?” Raven asked.

  “The Ntajid springs. This particular one has healing power. That’s why it has a high fence around it.”

  “Abbey?” Jo approached, his large, muscular brown body so much bigger than when I first met him as a ten-year-old boy working at the springs.

  “Jo! Pleasant seeing you here.”

  He shook a finger at me. “I work here. You keep showing up unannounced. I need to charge you for your visits!”

  I waved a hand at him. “Sure. Send me a bill.”

  Jo’s claim was unjust, since I hadn’t randomly showed up at the springs since the Hunju Civil war. Well—except for that one time my chemistry experiment got away from me. Oh, and then there’d been the sprained ankle a year ago. Yes, I suppose now I thought about it, I had continually showed up here—rather than having Joshua use his healing stone to fix what ailed. Guilty.

  Orrick withdrew his foot and inspected the healed tissue. “Wonderful.” He smiled broadly.

  I gave him his shoe back and gathered my new belongs.

  Jo began walking closer. “Abbey—”

  “Sorry, no time.” With a hand on Orrick and another hand stretched to Fury, I transported us all back to the edge of the Black Stag Forrest. I didn’t have time for lectures on trespassing at the springs.

  “Orrick, I—”

  “Yes, yes. Tick, tock. Go save the world. I can find my way back.” He slipped on his dirt-splattered shoe, and we both stood.

  I stretched on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

  “Wonderful.” He continued grinning. “Did Mal see that?”

  Mal appeared and crossed his arms. “Tell him I didn’t.”

  I chuckled. “Thank you for your help, Orrick. I promise I’ll return.”

  He placed a gentle, wrinkled hand to my cheek. “I know, dear. I know.”

  I transported us to the castle, back into the deliberation room, with Fury by my side. Gasps sounded as guards backed away from the wolf. Fury, accustomed to people’s apprehension of him, remained calm.

  I tossed the stone to the nearest guard. “That’s the Blood Stone.”

  I looked around the room. Joshua gave me a soft smile.

  “I’m joining Coco now for the bat. Has the other team left for Ntajid?”

  “They have,” Tarik confirmed.

  I hoped they’d be back before us.

  Baird?

  Yes, Abigail.

  I’ve retrieved the stone, and I’m ready to join the group.

  We are outside the port of Moon River. The place seems deserted.

  Pick me up outside the deliberation room.

  With a nod to the gaping group of onlookers, I exited the room, Fury by my side. By the time we’d reached the hallway, Baird had already arrived.

  I offered him my hand, careful to extend it in a way that our stars wouldn’t touch. I had no desire to swim through Baird’s sea of memories the way I had the day our stars first touched. We had planned the mass transport of an entire army and joined hands to do so. Something about the contact of our star tattoos sent us both into a flurry of each other’s memories, and gave us this permanent communication link. With that in mind, I also didn’t want to know what would happen if my moon tattoo touched his star.

  Our hands touching, it was time for Fury to extend a paw to Baird.

  He transported us instantly, far away to the waiting group.

  Coco sat on Prince and Hans on Unis. Above, I heard the familiar raspy greeting call of Carrot from a tree-top in the distance. I didn’t signal her to fly down to me. Instead, I tucked the mysterious glass cylinder I’d recovered into my saddlebag.

  “Did you succeed?” Hans asked.

  “We now have two of the four required components—the Healing Stone and Blood Stone,” Raven triumphantly declared.

  I grinned and admitted, “I couldn’t have done it without her.”

  As I mounted Phobus, I looked over my shoulder. To the west, toward where the sun stretched, was perched the lovely town of Meredith. My in-laws lived there. I worried the plague had struck there. After we succeeded in securing the components of the cure, I would need to check on Joshua’s parents. I squelched the dismal thought that if the disease had struck there prior to Marrington, deaths in the town would be mounting by now.

  I held up my arm, and Carrot swooped down to land on it.

  Together, we all rode through the port market at a cautious pace, passing storage warehouses and empty storefronts. An eerie quiet disconcerted me. As the sun set, this would be the time for people to be busily concluding transactions and finishing unloading commercial boats.

  The clicking of horseshoes against wooden planks sounded as we reached the docks. A few small, empty boats swayed faintly in the water, tethered to the docks.

  Coco halted Prince. “There’s nothing here large enough for four horses.”

  “The ferries should be here,” Hans said. “This is all wrong.”

  I walked Phobus along the long, wooden dock. The channel water rippled deep blue with wisps of sunlight glinting in reflection on the gentle waves.

  I spotted an object in the distance, jutting partially out of the water. As I brought Phobus to a halt, I gaped at the site of a ferry sunk in the channel. The submerged boat lay on its side with the port hull touching the bottom of the channel and the starboard side barely protruding from the surface of the water.

  “Merciful Monks.” I looked at Baird. “Do you think people were on that boat when it sank?”

  Baird nudged his heels in, patiently positioning Butterfly next to Phobus. His expression looked troubled. “The passengers wouldn’t have had far to swim to escape—but they clearly aren’t in the marketplace.”

  “If the ferry is sunk, how do we cross?” Coco asked, bringing her horse on the other side of mine.

  Baird replied, “We’ll have to use the star. We won’t know what we’re transporting into at Moontown, or how we’ll be received.”

  “There’s no time for anything else.” I extended a hand.

  Moontown materialized around us, and we were suddenly enveloped by a dense, slate-colored sleet. I blinked to clear my vision, but our surroundings remained gray. I strained through the haze to see. This was no commerce town—at least not anymore.

  Ash coated every building, walkway and tree. The town smelled like death and decay. Burnt cedar wood scent mingled with the smell of burnt flesh. I turned my gaze south, to where the source of the scent seemed to originate.

  Hans and Coco put sleeves to their mouths, as if that might block the odor.

  The buildings of Moontown were twisted, charred ruins. For a moment, I thought perhaps I was staring at the remnants from Malos’ forces of destruction, but that wasn’t possible. I would’ve asked Mal
what happened, but I didn’t need to add Hans to the list of people seeing me talk to myself.

  We all gaped at our surroundings, as we nervously advanced through the ash-covered city streets. The horses’ hooves left impressions on the soft, slate powder layering the ground.

  “Hans,” Baird said softly, “show us the way to the train station.”

  We followed Hans and Unis south through the dilapidated city. I was certain I saw the outlines of long bones and skulls amongst the rubble. Amidst all the charred wood, blackened stone, and fine ash, I didn’t see any fires still actively smoldering. Whatever calamity had fallen upon this town, we’d arrived days late to witness it.

  Our horses, keen to our alertness, kept their nostrils flared and ears perked. Fury trotted alongside us, his head low and nose sniffing the ground, and his ears pricked and alert.

  After twenty minutes on horseback, we arrived at the train station. Since night was descending, we made torches using sticks dipped in a jar of bioluminescent algae Baird had brought. Blue-green light emitted from them, lighting our way.

  The abundance of train tracks converging from the north, east, and south was evidence of this port city’s robust trade and commerce—yet, there was no movement at the train station. The train itself lay on its side, askew from the tracks. It appeared to have collided with a railcar and overturned.

  “Well, the train is no longer an option,” Coco noted.

  “Looks as though we’ll be on horseback.” Baird slid off Butterfly and looked into the cargo hold of the overturned train. “We’ll travel again in the morning. From what we’ve seen, night travel may be dangerous. We can sleep here and alternate night watch.”

  I took first watch.

  Having had three children, I’d learned that sleep was a precious commodity—but one I could capture enough of in short, concentrated doses to still function the following day.

  Falling asleep would be challenging between the danger we faced and the urgency of our trip. Taking first watch would help with that. Sleeping on the hard floor of a train cart wasn’t very appealing right now, but would grow more and more attractive the more tired I grew.