by Lucia Ashta
“And hope for the best,” Mordecai said. “We don’t have time for anything else. Time isn’t on our side.” Regret at the lack of time was a common sentiment as of late.
“No, it isn’t,” Marcelo added, thinking of me and the moment we shared in the courtyard before the visions took us away from thoughts of celebration. He turned to look at me.
“You’re awake,” he said and began to walk toward me. When he sat next to me on the settee that seemed out of place in the haphazard study, his tone grew more intimate. “How are you feeling?” he asked while he brushed the hair from my forehead. I winced. Even the faint pressure of his palm against my skin brought pain.
“I have a terrible headache, but I think I’m fine otherwise.”
“Do you want to sit up?”
I nodded as I began to push myself up on my hands. My arms were weaker than I’d imagined; I allowed Marcelo to help me.
Once seated, I could see above the edge of the settee that had limited my view to the fireplace and the window. First, I took in the brothers’ worried expressions. They both had stopped what they were doing to look my way. What I noticed second was that they stood next to an enormous figure that looked to be a cross between an automaton and a mutated creature.
The parts that were strewn across the rug in the middle of the brothers’ study came together to form the mutant. I recognized some of the pieces: the tree stump, the leather cushion, the stone, and the metal plate. What I couldn’t imagine was how the brothers took those components to make this. It was anatomically convincing.
Even though it was dormant now, I readily imagined it coming to life. It towered above Marcelo who, in turn, was bigger than both Albacus and Mordecai. Its chest was thick and solid, plated in metal. It had arms and thighs as thick as small tree trunks; its vacant eyes and face were haunting.
But the creature was no longer the magicians’ main focus. As large and imposing as it was, it retreated to the background as the brothers made their way to me and took seats along the ledge that jutted out from the hearth.
“Are you well enough to tell us of your vision?” Albacus asked.
I wasn’t, but I had to.
I recognized its importance. And it wasn’t meant only for me, but for all of us.
I gathered what strength I could and plunged forward. The dark magic was fast approaching, of that I was more certain now than before.
As I told the story, I did everything possible not to look at Marcelo and see the growing concern in his deep eyes.
Chapter 32
By the time I finished recounting my confrontation with a younger version of Marcelo, there was alarm in everybody’s eyes, even Sir Lancelot’s, and no one did anything to conceal it.
“What does it mean?” Albacus asked no one in particular.
None of us knew.
Even before I finished speaking, Mordecai looked away from me. He turned elsewhere, his mind working furiously to unravel the puzzle. The answer was right there for the taking, if only the magician could find his way to it.
Marcelo squeezed behind my back on the settee and encouraged me to lean into him for support. I did, and he held me. With each word I spoke, his grip became tighter.
Now that I’d shared what I saw, I relaxed into him. I rested my head in the crook of his shoulder and waited.
But the conclusions and explanations never came.
Eventually, Mordecai broke the silence. “I’m certain your vision and the forecasts the runes made are closely related. I just can’t figure out how. I’m missing something obvious, but it keeps slipping away from me every time I attempt to reach for it.”
Albacus nodded, but said nothing. He had no more luck than his brother in discovering the meaning of the vision.
“How does this younger Marcelo factor into any of it? The runes told me of a traitor that is Marcelo and yet is not. You”—Mordecai indicated me with a nudge of his head—“and you”—he pointed his head toward Marcelo—“are central to it all. Yet I don’t understand it. Do you, Marcelo? It’s you that Clara saw, both as enemy and savior.”
Marcelo shook his head. No.
“If we didn’t know Marcelo as we do, we might theorize that the vision indicates his duplicity, that Marcelo will betray us, that he’s the traitor. Yet,” Albacus said while he looked at Marcelo affectionately, “we know that’s not the case. It must be something else. But what?”
More time passed while the magicians considered and then discarded all possibilities that occurred to them, even the most farfetched. I remained silent, realizing there was nothing more I could contribute.
Eventually, the three magicians surrendered and accepted that, for now, the deeper meaning of the vision had to remain a mystery. But Mordecai did remove the shroud from one aspect of it. “I think I do know why you suddenly began having visions.” He looked pointedly at the ring Marcelo had put on my finger. We all did the same.
I removed the ring. Up close, the detailing of it was marvelous, one that only magic or the most skilled of artisans could accomplish. The snake of knowledge encircled the band to meet the dragon of the magical world. Their tails entwined across the ring until their heads met in the front. Inside the band were carved roses, the beauty, delicacy, and strength of the feminine. It was I as the rose, surrounded by the protection of thorns.
“As the runes said,” Mordecai continued, “there’s something powerful about the connection between you both. I believe the ring represents this connection, and the visions sprung from the magical power that’s generated when you come together.”
Curious, I slid the ring back on my finger. Instantly, my sight transported me somewhere else. When the image of the younger Marcelo began to come into focus, I uttered an agonized “no” and tried to remove the ring. I didn’t have enough time before my hand fell limp at my side and my mind pulled me into another world.
Marcelo reached over to remove it.
“No!” Mordecai interceded. “You must let her go through this. Maybe we’ll receive more information that will help us understand.”
But fear was already threatening to take hold of me; a faint tremor spread across my body. Marcelo acted from sympathy instead of black and white necessity. He pulled off the ring. “We’ll have to wait until another time. She’s not strong enough for this yet.”
“We don’t have time!” Albacus said.
“We never did,” Marcelo said as he swept the hair from my forehead. Saved from the cruelty of the vision, I’d soon recover.
Chapter 33
I didn’t fall into sleep again, but I was groggy. The sky had grown very dark by the time my mind cleared enough to be a productive contributor to the ongoing debate about how to best secure our defense. I wasn’t able to absorb most of what was said, staring at the hypnotic flames of the fire instead.
When I was finally able to tune into the discussion, the magicians had come to turbulent concessions and compromises and jetted past any considerations of other paths. Instead, they plowed forward with single-minded focus, trying to implement as many security measures as they could before the dark magic arrived at our doorstep.
We didn’t know how long we had, and my visions did nothing to guide us in that respect. They did, however, instill a greater sense of foreboding than before. A face to the threat (especially a familiar one we loved) did nothing to comfort us and everything to make the unease simmer in our blood.
With or without runes, I suspect we didn’t have any doubts by now that the time would soon be upon us. Danger sparked palpably all around us.
While I stared half-wittedly at the fire, the brothers made progress. They animated the patchwork creature, and I missed what spell they used to do so in my distraction. Still, I could see the result, and it was highly impressive.
The conglomerate creature lumbered around awkwardly. However, considering that earlier this evening it was a jumble of incoherent parts, I was in awe. The brothers were gifted magicians. That much was clear, even
to my novice mind.
As I watched the creature, its dexterity improved and its gait became smoother. Albacus commanded it to walk back and forth across the study, adjusting to its frame and finding balance. Once the creature was confident in walking, it tried to turn. In its attempts, it fell once, but recovered quickly and didn’t fall again.
I observed Mordecai and Marcelo. Both stared at the creature with a similar expression of concern. I supposed they were thinking the same they thought about me: so much potential and too little time to devote to its development. We had no way of knowing what life would look like after the attack, or if it would exist at all.
It was strange to find my life defined by a threat I didn’t understand. So much about our enemy was a mystery, and it seemed that the more we learned about it, the more confused we grew.
Why had the enemy targeted us to begin with? Nothing Marcelo and I were doing should concern anyone else. Had the brothers been working on something while I was trapped in the merworld that endangered us all? The brothers were unusual, but I didn’t think they posed a threat to anyone.
Whether I understood it or not, the truth was undeniable. The dark was coming toward us. I shared a sardonic smile with the roaring fire, thinking that at least, independent of any visions, we’d soon have a real face to attribute to our enemy. I hoped, with every breath that coursed through my body, that the face of darkness wouldn’t be Marcelo’s.
Slowly, I turned my head toward him. How certain was I of his goodness? He’d been cold-shouldered with me when Father commended him with my healing. It took him a long time to show me another side of himself. Was it possible there could yet be another side of him that I hadn’t discovered no matter how many times I searched the depths of his eyes?
It was possible, though I didn’t believe he could mask the hatred I saw within his younger eyes in my vision. It would be difficult to hide such raging fury.
Marcelo felt my stare and turned to meet my eyes. When he did, he must have sensed my doubt, but he was unable to assuage my worries. Albacus called to him just then to help in cloning the piecemeal creature.
Marcelo chose to prioritize. He had to. I just hoped he hadn’t read the distrust my eyes reflected.
Chapter 34
It was Robert who put an end to my fireside melancholy. He arrived with a tray of food that smelled delicious. I hadn’t eaten any delicious food since my arrival in Irele, so I attributed the odor to hunger. I realized I was ravenous.
Albacus cleared a clutter of papers and books from the table. They rearranged themselves in a neat pile on the floor, next to several other neat piles of books and papers from times before.
Marcelo helped me over to the table, where I sat first. When the brothers joined me, I noticed their weariness. They were tired and concerned. Stress marked even Marcelo’s young face; fine lines crinkled around his eyes and divided his brow. I suspected I must also carry the signs of our difficulties.
Our remaining problems were many, but we allowed our bowls of soup to absorb us. Dinner was as flavorful as it smelled, and I was grateful for what I thought was vegetable soup, although I couldn’t identify all the vegetables. I supposed they grew in indoor gardens somewhere on the castle grounds, although I hadn’t seen where.
The reprieve from our concerns didn’t last as long as a bowl of soup though, for Robert left the tray and returned with an entourage that superseded any thoughts of food.
It was only then that it struck me in real terms that the magicians were building an army. The mutant creature Mordecai named Rondel stood at attention in the middle of the rug, fully animated and awaiting his next orders. Sixteen gargoyles lined Rondel’s practice area, looking like nothing more than millennia-worn stone, but I knew better as I glimpsed wings tucked tightly onto their backs.
Robert ushered in grumpy-looking dwarves that dragged beards and battle-axes. Dwarf men and women were equally equipped with weapons that looked as if they’d shed blood before; so did the dwarves’ severe, focused expressions. I barely dared to look at them, fearful of upsetting them.
Behind the dwarves came several creatures I didn’t recognize. They looked like large caterpillars, and I found it difficult to imagine how they’d defend us. I wasn’t even able to locate their eyes.
A girl followed them, patiently waiting for the caterpillars to inch along. She appeared no different from my middle sisters, with her blonde hair, blue eyes, impeccable clothing, and intricate hairdo. She carried only a flower in her hands.
Then came the rabbits, and I finally understood how rabbits might eat wolves. The rabbits were large, as big as Rondel, and looked vicious. If there were a bet on who would win in a fight between a gargantuan rabbit and a wolf, I could see some betting on the rabbit.
Following next were the elves, who created a barrier between the rabbits and the wolves. They seemed as dignified and graceful as I ever imagined elves would be. They carried a variety of bows, swords, and staffs as they glided across the stone floor of the study. There were five of them, three men and two women, and I couldn’t decide which of them was more alluring.
Even the wolves that brought up the rear of Robert’s entourage were drawn to the elves’ grace. The wolves seemed as ready to defend anyone who’d harm the elves as they were to defend us. Thankfully, we’d all be on the same side, and the wolves’ divided loyalties would not conflict.
My hand remained poised above my soup bowl just as it was when the first dwarf crossed the threshold of the study under Sylvia’s watch. Finally, I put my spoon down in my bowl, all thought of food abandoned.
As Albacus and Mordecai stood, I allowed Marcelo to help me up and followed their lead. I then asked for my ring back in a whisper. This wasn’t the time to shy away from abilities—even if the gift of vision felt like a burden. This was the time for battle, and whether I was ready for it or not, I was part of an army.
Marcelo passed me the ring, and I slipped it into a small pocket in the skirts of my dress. I walked over to where the brothers stood and joined the line they formed. Albacus, Mordecai, Robert, Marcelo, and I faced a hodgepodge of magical creatures at the ready.
Chapter 35
Almost immediately, a whirlwind of chaos and action erupted around me. The dwarves yelled at the elves, who ignored their demeaning calls, but the wolves bared their teeth and snarled at the insults to their friends. I thought the wolves were average wolves, but now I wasn’t certain. The fur across their bodies stood up on end, as if they were covered in porcupine quills, and their eyes glowed an otherworldly yellow of menace.
With the wolves in action, the rabbits reacted. Instantly, any fear I might have had of the wolves receded, overpowered by my dislike of the rabbits. They stayed where they were, threatening the wolves. Foam dripped from their mouths, and their red eyes looked rabid. Vicious claws protruded from furry paws.
The dwarves continued hurling affronts. The elves kept ignoring them. The wolves continued in their defense of the elves. And the rabbits (who could never, ever be called bunnies) bared razor-sharp teeth at the wolves.
The din and aggression overpowered the brothers’ study and overwhelmed me.
Remarkably, the girl, in the midst of the entourage, was unruffled. She smiled a sunshiny smile and twirled her flower. Her sky blue dress swayed back and forth as she did.
Like her, the caterpillar-like animals didn’t react to the chaos around them, but I wasn’t sure that was to their credit. I was unable to find a way for them to hear, see, or smell. How Robert had directed them here was difficult to imagine.
I glanced at the brothers. They seemed at ease witnessing the scene. Even Robert and Marcelo didn’t appear to be particularly disturbed. I turned to Sir Lancelot. He was perched at a safe distance on his favorite windowsill, the one with a view of the courtyard and the approach to the castle.
Only Sir Lancelot looked frazzled when he met my searching gaze. We found comfort in each other as we identified shared alarm.
Then
a loud, sharp whistle pierced the air congested with guttural, animal grunts and vulgar, bass shouts. All sound ceased instantly, and I looked at Albacus with admiration and gratitude. His fingers still hung at the sides of his mouth. Silence rushed over me in a wave of relief, and my breathing regulated.
“My friends, thank you for joining us,” Albacus began in a calm, respectful voice that seemed out of place given his audience. “As Robert’s told you, an enemy is fast approaching, and we need all the soldiers willing to fight to defend us and the castle.”
By the number of nods that spread through the gathering, it was obvious that Robert had informed them of the facts; they were willing soldiers.
Albacus continued. “What we don’t know is who or what our enemy is, how powerful it is, or when exactly it will arrive. We don’t even know why our enemy has chosen to attack us. In the face of these many unknowns, we must prepare as if our enemy were the worst and as if its threat is one of unimaginable consequences.
“One thing that we do know is that our enemy will arrive at our gates in less than three days’ time. We also know that there may be illusions at work. Clara here has had a vision that shows a younger version of Marcelo as our enemy.” All eyes, except for the caterpillars’, were on me. The soldiers were apparently familiar with Marcelo, but I was a curiosity, one that might have surprising powers.
“As we all know, we can trust Marcelo to our deaths.” Nods of agreement spread across the room, and I wondered how these creatures came to trust Marcelo. “We must be alert to any possible mix-ups. We must be certain not to confuse Marcelo with our true enemy.”
The soldiers continued to listen attentively. Not a whisper traveled among them. They respected the magicians.
“I ask you, until this battle’s over, to table your disagreement. There will be lifetimes to resolve them. Now, however, we must focus and come together as a united front. We must defend the castle we’ve all sworn to protect.
