Ashes

by C B Samet

As I kept watch, I pulled the mysterious glass cylinder from the Karnelik castle catacombs out of my bag to inspect it. The translucence of the material made it seem fragile, yet the bulky weight suggested a robustness to the glass. Why would Isabel Dallik, the mother of Mal and Orrick, need such a puzzle box?

  When I twisted one of the seven pieces, a set of symbols aligned. Everything around me shifted.

  I blinked, and suddenly found myself standing beside a woman my own age with long, brown hair and a shimmering blue gown. She was staring out over a balcony, and made no startled motion to indicate she’d even seen me.

  The woman looked out over the stone balcony, down to a courtyard where two boys swung wooden swords in play combat with each other.

  I recognized them instantly. Young Malakai had a mop of wavy dark brown hair. He was slim and agile, and probably about ten years old. Orrick looked thicker and more svelte, with straight blond hair. The clank of wood striking wood echoed through the courtyard.

  “My boys,” Isabel Dallik began, her lips not moving, “play confined to these castle walls not knowing the war that rages to the west.” She seemed to be narrating what appeared to be stored memories. “How long can we defend Crithos? The war has spread from continent to continent with Bellos conquering them one by one. So long have these battles been raging that generation after generation have known no peace.”

  Isabel gripped the stone edge of the balcony. “Will this same be true for my boys? I feel it. I see it. My powers grow the more I study magic. I'm fortunate Karnelik has such a wealth of magic books. I hadn't known that when my marriage to the king had been arranged. I’d worried this castle would be my prison. In truth, I’ve more freedom here than I did on the plains of Aithos, where my magic skills were disdained. My parents hadn't told the king of Karnelik about my unique skills when I was betrothed. Fear of persecution kept me silent, until I learned I could trust my husband.

  “Now, within these fortified walls, with a wealth of resources, I can practice and perfect my skills. I might make more progress with an experienced mentor, but I’m making progress nonetheless. All other wizards are deployed as spies, or in battles against Bellos.” Isabel's satin-brown eyes watched her sons play and fight below her. “My hope is to find a use for this magic that will benefit my children and my country. I want to make the world a better place.”

  “Abigail?”

  I blinked, and suddenly Baird stood before me, back in the train yard.

  “How long was I gone?”

  He gave me a quizzical look. “You weren’t gone at all. You were staring at that device in your hands.”

  “For how long?”

  He shrugged. “A few seconds, but you didn’t answer me at first. You looked like you were in a trance. Or meditating.” He spoke the last word hesitantly as though knowing that couldn’t possibly be the case. What’ve you got there?”

  I rotated the object, careful not to move any pieces. “I think they’re the stored memories of Isabel Dallik. It’s a visual journal with her narration. I found it in ruins outside Karnelik.”

  “Malakai’s mother? The first champion?”

  I nodded.

  “That’s quite a prized piece then. There are no written records that have survived seven-thousand years.”

  He seemed to be practically salivating at the idea of long-lost history suddenly becoming accessible. I guessed he would want to see it and document what it contained.

  “Now that I know what it is, I believe it belongs to Orrick.”

  Baird’s expression deflated slightly. “You’re quite right. I’m sure the wizard would treasure his mother’s memories.”

  I placed the cylinder back in my satchel.

  “I’ll stay up with you. Shall we gather wood?” he asked.

  Together, Baird and I broke apart a few of the empty wooden crates we found in the train yard and made a fire from them. He began with flint and wood shavings. When flames flickered to life, we added larger strips of wood. I wasn’t sure which would pose a larger threat—sleeping in darkness and risking an animal attack or sleeping with fire and risking a human attack.

  When a shard of wood cut into my skin, I was reminded of our vulnerability on the quest. This scratch was minor, but we had no healer with us. If any one of us sustained injuries in a fight, regardless of who the aggressor was, Baird or I would have to transport to the healing springs, which would take ourselves out of a fight in which we might be needed.

  My arms were laden with firewood, the old barrel staves I’d collected. I used my star to transport them to the fire Baird had started.

  He glanced up at me inquisitively. It would have taken me mere steps to toss them into the fire without the use of my star.

  As I dropped the wood strips on the flames, I adjusted the staves, explaining, “I was surprised when I discovered I couldn’t transport into or out of the Black Stag Forrest on our last quest. With all of this new land we’re going to traverse, I thought I ought to test the ability from time to time.”

  Soon, the fire was roaring. I sat down before it, next to Baird. Fury curled up beside me and lay his head in my lap. His soft fur felt sleek and fine in my fingertips. Carrot had flown away, probably in search of rodents or small game.

  “I believe Fury likes you more than me.” Baird’s tone was jovial rather than jealous.

  I grinned. “I’m snuggly.”

  He chuckled. “What am I?”

  I hesitated. “Stiff.”

  “Stiff?” He began to pet his wolf.

  Wonderful friend that he was, Baird was all calm composure. Yet, if the eyes were the window to one’s soul, his bore all. Even when he kept his body language indecipherable, Baird’s eyes betrayed his every emotion—humor, compassion, worry, frustration, and resolve.

  When I didn’t elaborate, he gestured toward my hand. “You have a new design.”

  I opened my palm so he could see the moons. “Orrick gave me the moons,” I said wistfully. “He said he was giving me moon magic.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That’s exactly what I asked him. He said he’d explain later. So far, I can glow in the dark.”

  “Useful.”

  I poked the wood in the fire. The flames danced before my eyes. Shifting on the makeshift stool I’d assembled, I reached into my saddlebag and withdrew the Hunju darts. One by one, I dipped the tips in the snake venom.

  “Those are new, too,” Baird commented.

  “I’ve had them for a while. Never had an occasion to use them. The serum is concentrated Black Marsh adder venom which paralyzes its victim.”

  “Yes, I recall.”

  I’d shown up at the monk sanctuary once, paralyzed, with the caged leader of the Hunju. It was back when our supposed rescue mission had turned into an escalation of the existing civil war.

  “The serum will remain potent on the tip for up to a week.”

  “Don’t inadvertently poke your finger, then.”

  Indeed, careful handling was paramount. The pouch that held them consisted of thick ox hide so the tips wouldn’t protrude through the leather and cause a mishap.

  “I’m glad to have you on this quest.” I wrapped the darts back in the ox hide and stowed them in my pack. “Still, it feels incomplete without Joshua.”

  Baird patted my shoulder. “All of your quests have had a mix of old friends and new ones. This one will be no different.”

  I disagreed, though I kept silent. Under the circumstances, I didn’t share Baird’s optimism. This time, Joshua was being held as collateral. This time, I had my children to consider—and, as evidenced by the destruction surrounding us, more lives were at stake.

  13

  I walked a hallway lit by bioluminescent lamps.

  The corridor stretched onward before me, seemingly infinite. On either side, doorways extended the length of the corridor, covered by sheer iridescent curtains that hid their contents.

  I waited. Most of my unusual dreams could be blamed
on Malakai. When I didn't see or hear him, I asked, “Mal?”

  No response came. I looked at the palm of my hand, surprised to see the tattoo of the moons pulsating with a vibrant azure glow.

  That’s new.

  I could hear murmuring from people within the rooms. Brushing aside one of the soft, thin curtains, I peered inside the room. Amidst grunts and groans of pleasure, I discovered Minister Tarik bedding a woman.

  I drew back, swallowing down my revulsion. That had no place in my dreams.

  The next room opened to flowing stream under a midday sun. Joshua was fishing with Baird, their lines pulled taught by the tug of water. As they casually conversed about Joshua's clinic, I noticed Joshua looked solid and whole, while Baird had a translucent shimmer.

  I pulled aside another curtain, and saw a woman floating on the gentle ocean current. Her eyes were closed, as a smile danced on her lips. Her long brown and gray hair fanned out in the water.

  I smiled, “Mom.”

  She put her feet down, stood, and turned to me. “Abbey! What a pleasant surprise.”

  I stepped into the room, walking atop the gently rippling ocean water. “You can see me?”

  “Better now that you’re closer. You looked a little fuzzy at first, but dreams often are.”

  “I haven’t dreamt about you since the time you disappeared.”

  Nadine gave me a quizzical look. “I thought I was dreaming about you.”

  “Huh.” I looked down at the moons on my palm again, as I thought about the corridor of rooms. Was this the moon magic?

  “I think I can enter other people’s dreams.”

  “So, you’re really here?”

  “As much as I can be, in a dream.”

  My mother rose up, so she stood on top of the ocean water like me. Around us, water met sky in the horizon, but no land was in sight. Faintly, I could still see the outline of the doorway.

  “How goes the quest?”

  “The plague is bad. Catastrophic actually. Entire towns on Kovia have been wiped out. I feel better knowing the children are safe with you.” My gut clenched as I expressed my concerns aloud. “If our quest fails, or the magic doesn't work, Crithos won’t be the same. The devastation will be absolute.”

  She reached toward me and touched my hand. The embrace felt warm, solid, and secure. When Mal walked in my dreams, he was as intangible as he was during my wakefulness. This was a different magic.

  “The children are fed and happy. Your focus should be on what you need to do to save Crithos.”

  My chest quivered. “I don’t know if it will be enough.”

  “Do your best, as you always do.” Her soft brown eyes conveyed encouragement and pity.

  “Joshua will contract the plague soon—if he hasn’t already. He’s elbow-deep in those infected with it.” My heart squeezed in my chest as I spoke the words. “We’re racing against a clock to save his life, too.”

  “Then, it’s fortunate the country has the Avant Champion on its side.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I squeezed her hand.

  We stood together silently, watching the ocean. In her dream, the water rested calmly, more like a pond—but too vast to be anything other than the ocean. As she placed a hand against my cheek, I closed my eyes to enjoy the comfort of her touch.

  “Get some rest, Abbey.”

  I woke with a start. The sun crested the horizon, casting long, distorted shadows. We were surrounded by a sea of gray—light ash and dark shadows—representing the remnants of Moontown.

  Hans, Coco, Raven, and Baird were already packing their belongings.

  I sat up and patted my hair to smooth the wild waves. Between night watch and the difficulty I’d had falling asleep, I guessed I’d managed about four hours of rest. After I shoved myself to my feet, I began to roll my blanket. Four hours would have to suffice. For every minute of our journey, someone died from the Omega plague.

  “The horses and Fury are fed and watered,” Hans said, handing me a stick of beef jerky.

  I accepted it with a thank you.

  We packed, mounted, and left the ghost town behind us. Carrot took her place on my arm, and Raven was content to continue riding Fury.

  Since the train was no longer an option, we’d be on horseback all the way to the salt mines. We followed the road Hans suggested, leading east. Baird consulted the map and confirmed we were on the right track. When the ashen town faded behind us, the flat landscape stretched from farmland, to prairie, to woods.

  We kept a steady pace, alternating between galloping and walking. The galloping was reserved for stretches of level road.

  At late afternoon, I dismounted to run beside Phobus as he trotted. I let Carrot perch on the empty saddle.

  “What are you doing?” Coco asked, looking down at me from atop Prince. Her golden hair was pulled back in a severe-looking ponytail.

  “I’ve been in that saddle for hours. I need to move my legs, and Phobus could use a break from the weight of a rider.”

  “I’ve never seen anyone run—except the Queen’s runners.”

  “I used to be in better shape. Less winded. I haven’t run consistently since having children.” I chased after the children constantly, but that was more about building emotional endurance than physical.

  Hans hopped off Unis. Keeping hold of the horse’s reins, he joined me in a jog. He grinned. “How long do we do this for?”

  “The Queen’s runners can do a hundred kilometers. The most I’ve ever managed is about ten.” I breathed heavily between sentences. “Again, that was before having children.”

  “What happens after children?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do you intend to do with your longevity? Will you be a chemistry teacher forever? Will you take up more quests?”

  I didn’t spend an abundance of time considering what my life would be when my children had grown. Since my life expectancy would be considerably longer than Joshua’s—provided these Queen’s quests didn’t do me in—growing old together by a warm fire wasn’t in our future. With the way Joshua used his healing stone so freely to help others, that time together might be even less than I’d anticipated.

  “Perhaps more travel,” I said, with forced cheer.

  Hans was attempting casual conversation, and I wanted to avoid making him aware of the thoughts that burdened me when I thought about a future without Joshua.

  He beamed. “I’d love to see Bellos. The Emerald Caves. The city of Victoria. The Bakshi mountains.”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  If Hans kept his course to become a Gunthi Monk, he’d have a long life of adventure ahead of him. What I didn’t understand was why he’d choose such a life in the first place. As the son of an English professor, his life flourished among the middle class. Why sacrifice that for a life among the monks? Rotating between isolation and service to mankind? I understood Baird’s motivation—he’d lost the woman he loved many years ago.

  I decided to probe. “The lifetime commitment as a monk seems a steep price to pay for traveling the world.”

  A shadow flickered over Hans’ expression, before his rosy-cheeked, boyish grin returned. “I’m fascinated with magic and the legends of what it once was—stone bearers in every village, sorcerers, and wizards. They were gods among men.”

  “Some of them were demons.”

  “True.”

  I’d heard vivid descriptions from Mal about what the world had been like thousands of years ago—trapped in a cycle of war and devastation. We’d had many philosophical discussions about whether mankind deserved the power of magic. History suggested that, with magic, we cycled in a state of perpetual war. When some of our evil was removed from the equation, magic became less important. Seven thousand years of peace had passed without the existence of magic-bearing wizards or war.

  “You can learn history in the monk library without becoming a monk,” I said.

  “I have more than a lifetime of learning ahe
ad of me.”

  “Oh? You reached that conclusion at a young age.”

  He scowled a moment, and I wasn’t sure if he felt offended at me calling him young or at me casting doubt on his motivation. My inquisition wasn’t meant to be unfriendly.

  I tried to recover. “It’s noble of you to want to become a monk. I’m sure you’ll find fulfillment and learn more history than you can possibly imagine.”

  His eyes sparkled in amusement, making me think my flattery worked too well.

  “You have your own noble actions.” His breathing was heavier now with the exertion of the run.

  “They are few and far between. I made my choice. I chose a family and teaching career over permanent service to Queen and country.”

  “But you never turn away from a crisis.”

  “True. Yet the power to influence a situation with force and magic—and of knowing if that’s the right course of action—are not one and the same.”

  Hans chuckled. “You sound like Baird.”

  I grinned. “I do, don’t I? I’m at least fifty years younger, so you’re better off taking advice from him.” I was in my late thirties, looking like young thirties. Baird, in contrast, looked like he was in his late forties, but I suspected he was actually over one-hundred years old. He never divulged his true age. Since he had continuous access to the Aqua Santos, I imagined I’d look older than him someday.

  “Baird is—,” Hans began.

  “Look,” interrupted Baird from ahead of us. “There’s a village ahead.”

  I slowed to a walk.

  With living people, or corpses? I wondered dismally.

  As we approached, the village emerged—wooden, block-shaped houses and stores circled with a series of stone walls.

  I climbed onto Phobus’ back and Carrot took flight. Raven chose to ride on my shoulder for a better view.

  Baird consulted a map from his saddle pack. “Perhaps this is Billington. It should be the town before the geysers.”

  “Geysers?” I asked.

  Hans replied, “That’s a stretch of protected land containing hot springs and geysers. It will be the shortest way to the salt mines.”