by C B Samet
On a hunch, I tried to transport and failed.
Coco, Baird, and Hans arrived, pulling their horses to a halt.
“What’s wrong?” Hans asked, kneeling beside me.
“Salt crystals. And I can’t transport here.”
Hans looked to Baird who shook his head. “Nor can I.”
“We’ll camp here,” Coco declared as she dismounted.
“Why can’t you transport?” Hans asked.
I stood, rolling the coarse crystals in my palm. “Must be the salt.”
Coco rolled out a tent. “You’ve transported in and out of the ocean. That’s salty.”
“True. Some other compound or compounds must also be involved.”
“And the Black Stag Forrest isn’t made of salt,” Raven added.
“Also true. But it isn’t far from the ocean, and it may have salt layers in the bedrock.”
Baird helped Coco setting up the tents. “So, salt and some other compound?”
As I stared at the pink crystals, I thought about the red soil of the Black Stag Forrest. “Iron. The crystals have a pinkish hue and the red soil of the forest is rich in iron. Perhaps the link is a chemical composition involving salt and iron.”
“The chemist solves the mystery.” Coco said. She stepped back from the assembled tent. “Right now, we need a fire—but we have no wood.”
Baird began rummaging through bags for food. “We have a bigger problem. If we can’t transport while on these grounds, we’ll be delayed in getting the bat back to Marrington. We’ll have to ride back toward the geysers before we can deliver the bat to the castle.”
“Not we,” Coco corrected. “Only you or Abigail, since you’re the transporters. Abigail is the faster rider. As soon as we have the bat, we send her racing.”
I brushed the salt from my hands. “I like the plan.”
By nightfall, we’d consumed the last of our rations—salted fish and raw nuts for us, and grain for the horses.
I lay on my back staring up at the stars. They blanketed the sky, looking like thousands of Che stones lit in unison. I ran my hands through Fury’s fur as he lay snuggled next to me.
“You want to talk about what you saw at the geysers?” Baird lay on the opposite side of his wolf.
Hans and Coco had already retired to their tents.
“We have no secrets, but it’ll be an uncomfortable recounting.”
“I don’t need to pry. Tell me only if it helps you to do so.”
I didn’t know how helpful sharing what I’d seen would be, but I wanted Baird to know. “Well, I already mentioned Boyo convincing the Bellosian king to attack us. We have that to look forward to in … I don’t know how many years. Then, at some point, Natalie takes the crown.”
“Natalie becomes queen? But that would mean—”
“Queen Rebekah dies? Yes. Well, she is in her seventies.”
“But Natalie—”
“I know. She will have to activate the Leadership Stone to prove she’s heir to the throne.”
The corners of his mouth turned down. “I see you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“I might have been mentally digesting it when I galloped with Phobus earlier.”
“Anything else?” He asked hesitantly.
“My death.”
“You’re certain? When?”
When? The big question everyone wants answered. How much longer do I have to live? The question no one gets answered—until the very end.
“Not when I’m old and gray—that much I could discern. I die in Malakai’s arms.”
Baird tensed. “Literally, or figuratively?”
“He was literally holding me in the vision I saw.”
“Did he kill you?”
“No.” I recalled the look of devastation on Mal’s face. There’d also been a corpse on the ground—a man I didn’t see enough of to recognize. “No, and I didn’t see who does.”
“How is it possible he holds you? I thought you only see him as an apparition.”
“I do. I don’t see how it’s possible. We can’t physically touch—which is a good thing given the number of times I’ve wanted to stab him, kick him, or throw rocks at him.”
“Your relationship with him. Is it healthy?”
I wasn’t sure about healthy, unless I took into account how I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him. “It is helpful. If not for Mal—”
“I know. The volcano and the harbor wave.”
“And saving Joshua and Coco from Windish. And letting me know of the Omega plague, so I didn’t transport to Joshua’s clinic and infect myself.”
Baird scratched at some grayish brown stubble on his chin. “Definitely helpful. Did you ask him about the vision you saw?”
“Yes. He was ... evasive.”
“Fascinating.”
“Don’t you mean infuriating?”
“Well, he’s already demonstrated he’ll save you at every opportunity. If Mal’s avoiding this particular vision then perhaps he can’t affect the outcome.”
“Fascinating,” I grumbled.
“Can you pin him down on why he’s avoiding a discussion about this particular outcome?”
I couldn’t pin Mal down on anything. “I’m planning to ask Orrick about it.”
“Very well. Let’s get some sleep. Final quest day tomorrow. The good news is you already know you’ll live through it.”
18
That night, I used my dreamwalking skills and found Joshua’s dreams.
Peeling back the curtain of the doorway, I watched him sitting at the desk in his clinic—the one that no longer existed, burned to the ground—as he wrote in a journal by candlelight. His smooth jaw glowed tan and his eyes focused on his task.
“Even in your dreams you’re working.”
Joshua turned to me, and cocked his head to one side. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!”
The heat in his expression sent a thrill through my body. As he stood, I walked closer.
“I miss you, Joshua.”
“Oh, Abbey.” He pulled me into his arms. “I wish you were here. I wish this wasn’t only a dream.” He buried his face in the hair on my neck.
“I am here. As much as I can be. I’m intruding on your dream.”
“You feel real.” He crushed his body against mine, his erection pulsating into me.
I gasped as his warm hands slid under my shirt and caressed my back.
Looking into my eyes, he asked, “Are you really here?”
“It’s a new skill I’ve acquired.”
He kissed me, soft lips and tongue turning from gentle to exploratory to hungry.
“Please, Abbey, let me have you.”
“You already do.” In seconds, our clothing vanished, and I pressed against his hot, bare body.
His kisses grew passionate and fierce as his hunger turned Joshua savage. I missed him and missed his touch. I wanted him to take his fill of me and leave nothing left.
His touch and his lips caressed the skin at the nape of my neck until he worked his way to my breasts. I gasped as he licked.
When he lifted me up, I wrapped my legs around him and sank my fingers into his hair.
He released a throaty growl that danced along my spine. Our desire escalated as flesh on flesh created heated friction. At last, he drove into me, filling me with ecstasy. He thrust faster, encouraged by my groans of delight. The dream world we shared burst in a thousand brilliant colors as we climaxed together. I floated on waves of effervescent pleasure outside myself.
When I finally reassembled myself, I opened my eyes to the soft glow of bioluminescent light. I lay comfortably on warm furs inside a dim room smelling of cinnamon and sandalwood. Joshua lay on his side with his bare chest exposed, his mouth held in a slight smile. I tried to decipher his expression. Relief. Love. Arousal.
I smiled back at him as I took a long leisurely stretch. He reached out for me and heat rushed through my body at his touch. As he scooted closer,
Joshua whispered my name, his breath warm on my neck. He brushed hair away from my throat, sending a tantalizing shiver down my spine.
“I miss you,” I said.
“Will you be back soon?”
“We’re at the salt mines. I hope to be back before dusk tomorrow.”
“Stay with me tonight.”
“All night,” I promised.
He curled his body around me.
I jolted awake. The first rays of morning sun lit my dark, barren tent, streaming through the sewn slits in the fabric.
I sat up on the hard, unforgiving ground—still wearing the tunic and leggings I’d gone to bed in.
Fury whimpered and nuzzled into my tent.
“Come in, boy.”
He crawled on his belly as he wormed his way in and over to me. I wondered why he wasn’t with Baird, but was glad for the company. I ran my hands through his fur.
“Lucky wolf.”
I looked up to see Mal had appeared in my tent.
He sat on the ground, regarding me with his dark eyes. “You’re glowing.”
“I am not.” I looked down at my arms to see a gentle white glow illuminating from my skin. Okay, so I was glowing.
I turned my gaze back up to Mal. “To what do I owe the honor of the reappearance of my absent apparition?”
He cocked his head to one side. “Testy much?”
I glared at him. “Unless you’ve got a comfortable mattress and a spare blanket in your pocket, you may go.”
His playful expression vanished. “I came to explain the visions. Well, I came to explain that I don’t have an explanation. I don’t know anything more about what you saw than you do. You were dying. I was holding you. I don’t know when, or how, or why.”
“Why didn’t you say that in the Waterlands? Why shove me away?”
“Because it doesn’t make sense.”
“I can’t make sense of half the things that happen in life, but I don’t take it out on you.”
His lips curled in a slight smile, but his eyes were still sad.
“Look. I’m grateful for all of the times you’ve helped me,” I told him. “I don’t expect you to have all of the answers, even though you like to act like you know everything.”
He regarded me through dark lashes.
“Friends give reassurance to each other, not dismissive moodiness.” I continued, “I don’t want to die, and I certainly never wanted to see my own death, but death is inevitable for all of us. As deaths go, it didn’t look terrible. I wasn’t screaming in pain or falling into boiling lava. I’m not upset with you—unless you’re the one that kills me. You’re not, are you?”
“I am not.”
“Then stop looking like you feel responsible.” I shrugged. “I’ll talk to Orrick about it and see if he has any insight.”
“As you wish.”
I changed the topic. “I want to show you something. I’d have done it sooner if you hadn’t been off sulking for days.” I pulled out Isabel’s memory glass.
When I twisted it and aligned different symbols, a new memory flooded me. In this memory, I saw young Malakai dressed in fine silks of red and gold. His hair was a dark mop of curls and his face was smooth and bright. In the great hall around him, music played and people in lavish clothing danced. I could almost feel the merriment of the activity—like heat from the sun.
“My son.” Isabel beamed. She took her husband’s hand in hers. “My king has given me the greatest gifts of my life—my sons. Malakai celebrates his 16th birthday today. I'm amazed at how time has flown.”
“Our wonderful sons,” the king remarked, interrupting Isabel’s narration briefly.
Isabel continued, “How many times over the years have I felt like an insufficient mother? As I struggled to balance royal duties with magical studies and raising children? Perhaps I’ve succeeded despite my own self-doubt and worries.”
Malakai approached his mother with gleaming eyes. After a bow, he extended his hand. When his mother accepted, he led her to the dance floor where they began to waltz. The scene of the mother and son dancing looked so beautiful, I felt my eyes well with tears.
I emerged from the memory to the dim tent, Fury beside me. “You weren’t with me?”
“I’m right here,” Mal said.
“But you didn’t join me in Isabel’s memory.”
“My mother’s memory?”
“The cylinder holds her memories. A turn and alignment of symbols takes me into her memory.”
“I saw you staring at it, but you didn’t move or transport anywhere.”
I frowned. “I hoped you’d be able to see her, hear her. This last one was your sixteenth birthday.”
He looked at his hands and fidgeted.
“I’m sorry. I meant to share a memory with you, not torture you with it. She adored you. Maybe you have to be touching the glass for the memories to transmit.”
His jaw tensed before he looked up at me, dark eyes glistening. “I adored her.” His throat bobbed in a swallow. “We danced at that party.”
“It looked wonderful.” I knew what it was like to lose a parent. I had lost both for a decade until fate reunited me with my mother. My father was lost forever. My brother was lost forever.
Mal stood. “Well, your troops are stirring. Best get moving.”
As Mal vanished, I threw off my covers to ready myself for the day. The last day of the quest.
I watched Raven as she sat on Phobus’ neck. The feathers in her hat captured the sun and shimmered a gleaming black and dark green.
“I’m glad you came.”
She turned and blinked at me. “Me, too.”
As Raven turned back, she added, “What happens when we get the bat?”
“We race back to the castle and become heroes.”
She snorted.
“You don’t want to be a hero?” I suffused my voice with incredulity.
Raven turned back around on the horse, situating herself to ride backward. She scowled contemplatively.
I waited for her snarky response.
“You’re a legend among the brownies. Red Goddess. Hero of men. Slayer of Malos. Freer of Wizard Oak. I always thought—who wouldn’t want to be Abigail Cross? But this trip has been a revelation. My eyes opened to the risk you take with your life and the pressure you’re under to succeed. Too much expectation rides on the shoulders of the Avant Champion.”
My expression softened. “The quests are hard and the demands can be crushing—emotionally and physically—, but I have a wonderful marriage and three wonderful children. I enjoy my university work. All of the challenges I’ve had make the other aspects of my life all the more precious.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Your outlook is brighter today than it was at the beginning of this trip.”
I thought about my night with Joshua and coughed to cover my blush. “That’s because it’s almost over. Before sunset, we’ll have the quest complete.” Then, I wouldn’t have to invade Joshua’s dream to make love to him.
Raven glanced at Coco as she rode Prince. “Seems Coco and Baird are reuniting.”
“Are they?” I looked toward them. Their horses walked close, but they rode in silence.
“You apparently didn’t hear the noises coming from their tent.”
“Uh, no.” I grinned. “That’s good, though. They need each other.”
Raven smirked. “They can need each other more quietly next time.”
I stared at the cave entrance across the water. We had arrived.
I tried to smell and savor the salt on the air, but the humidity was so low that the scent was faint. We were one captive bat away from returning home.
I stood at the edge of the moat. The water’s stillness crisply reflected the blue sky; and it was so flat it appeared as if I could have walked across the glassy, azure surface. A hundred meters south, a small boat with oars sat on the shore.
A ripple coursed through the water—something had moved within the depths of
the moat. Taking a step back, I positioned my hand to the hilt of my sword. Probably a fish—but I was on edge after three days of travel, not to mention seeing a vision of my own death.
A large, pink, moist limb lashed toward me. Carrot took flight with a screech of alarm.
“Look out!” Coco shouted.
I watched as the rubbery tentacle sailed past me. A second one reared out of the water toward me, knocking me off my feet. As a third rose into the air and came crashing down. I rolled aside, barely out of reach. The ground shook as the great heap of slimy limb struck where I’d been lying a moment earlier.
Another tentacle had ensnared Hans. A scream emitted from his lips. As the beast tightened its hold, Hans’s face and neck began to turn plum colored. With the tentacle cinching around his torso, his arms were trapped. His scream cut short.
Taking a running start, I pulled out my sword and leaped. I slashed at the flailing tentacle. As I brought my sword down, I sliced through the meaty, octopus-like arm.
Hans plummeted to the ground, but landed on his side on top of the tentacle as it loosened its hold. As he gasped for air on the ground, Coco and Baird battled other limbs. Fury snapped his canines, snarling at the slithering appendices. With the injury to one arm, the other squid-like limbs began writhing wildly.
As things stood, we were four against seven. I swung my blade at a tentacle, missing it. I tried to see the body of the beast in the water. The arms churned the water so ferociously I couldn’t see a clear target. I wished I had more paralytic Black Marsh adder venom.
Can you talk to it? I asked Baird.
You don’t want to know what it’s thinking.
A blur of tanned skin and blond hair streaked past me and dove into the lake. With her sword leading the way, Coco plunged at the body of the octopus. She vanished beneath the gurgling surface.
As I gaped at where she’d disappeared, one of the tentacles grasped my waist and squeezed. I pierced the flesh with my sword, causing the limb to release me and flail spastically.
Suddenly, the chaotic motions subsided to small twitches and undulations and the many tentacles flopped flaccidly to the ground. The creature’s arms rested limply, their rubbery undersides exposed, as though it died in prayer with open arms.
