“Oh, but it was you.” The Grand Sovereign lips curved to a sneer. “When your will—that is, your spirit was broken, it was easy to impart my own with yours, to listen in on your conversations. And if I listened close enough, I heard other conversations, as well. Things playing out in Gerdy’s mind as you slept.”
The Grand Sovereign laughed coldly.
“I waited for Gertrude to tell you the truth, to tell you the things she was hiding. She never did so. And as your little friendship grew, your soul mended itself.”
So, that’s what happened last night, Gerdy thought. That’s what had changed. And Gerdy had thought it was something else.
“It’s time I give you back everything that was taken from you. The last chink in your armor. Your memory.”
The Grand Sovereign snapped his fingers, and Catarina jerked as if stung by a bee. She looked around wide-eyed and moved her mouth as if she’d discovered a bad taste in it.
“Cat,” Gerdy whispered, “don’t listen to his lies.”
“It was you who lied to her,” the Grand Sovereign said.
Catarina put out a hand. “This isn’t about you,” she snapped at Gerdy, “not yet. There are things I still need to work out.”
Gerdy could see the conflict in Catarina. If anything, she wasn’t on either side now, not the Grand Sovereign’s but not Gerdy’s either. She pressed her fingers hard against her aching head.
“What I said down there,” Catarina told Gerdy, “it didn’t come from my true self. You should never have trusted me with your secrets…”
My secrets? Gerdy thought. What secrets?
The Grand Sovereign smiled. This was turning out exactly as he’d hoped it would.
Gerdy’s fist tightened around the splinter. What was she waiting for? Now she had Myra in her sights and she’d lost Catarina. There was nothing left to wait for. The time was now.
But sometimes, Gerdy thought, you just have to see where things are headed.
“So, as I said,” the Grand Sovereign mused, “here I am without Epik. It’s Myra’s powers I’ll have to tap into next. Unless, of course, you can think of another way? Perhaps I could take your powers now and give you another day to lure Epik here. Does your previous offer still stand?”
It was a trick, Gerdy knew. What could she do without her powers? Nothing. He would take hers and then Myra’s magic. It would be that easy. It was that easy.
So, why is he stalling? she wondered.
“It doesn’t.” Gerdy shook her head. “My offer is,” she thought of words she’d heard Epiman say before, “null and void.”
Yes, that sounded right.
Myra let out a soft snore.
“Interesting,” the Grand Sovereign said. “No matter. I’m glad you’re here to watch this.”
The old wizard closed his eyes, and the hollows around them blackened. His face puckered in concentration. For a long moment nothing happened, and then he winced.
“Inconceivable,” he sputtered. He fell to his knees retching with both hands to his stomach. “She knows she has magic but only when she dreams.”
Catarina was backing away. The guard holding her arm didn’t protest; he, as if choreographed, took a few steps back with her.
“Then wake her,” Wallack suggested.
“It’s not so easy as that.” Catarina turned her gaze to Gerdy. “Have you been dreaming?”
It wasn’t an accusation, just a question. But Gerdy’s old fears of Catarina outweighed anything she now knew.
“Of course she has.” The Grand Sovereign stood shakily. “This is all my son’s doing. He still thinks he can win. I should’ve known there were still traps, safeguards in place. If that’s how things are going to go, we’ll just kill the spare.” His darkened eyes found Gerdy.
Epiman’s voice, that’s who she’d heard in the dream last night.
The Grand Sovereign’s hand lifted, fingers beckoning to her. But as unlikely as it was, someone moved in front of her. And that someone was Catarina. The girl took the brunt of the Grand Sovereign’s spell, and she fell.
Now was most definitely the time to act.
Gerdy muscled free of the guard, and she drew the splinter of lance from her pocket. Pointing it at the Grand Sovereign, she sent a strength spell careening his way—but today she wasn’t a one trick pony.
The Grand Sovereign was thrown into the wall, shattering stone. The wall crumbled around him, burying him inside.
The guards and Wallack hesitated.
“Seize her,” he cried.
The guards closed in.
Gerdy remembered way back to what Epik had done to Nacer. And having a bit of Epik’s magic inside her, she knew how to do it as well. Why waste it vanishing herself when she could vanish someone else?
She pointed at Sir Wallack, bound the emotion, and thought of what halflings do best.
Vanish.
In some shadowy realm where characters no one cares for live in a world apart, Nacer waved.
“Do I know you?” he asked. “You look familiar.”
Wallack patted himself. He was still alive, but he wondered how and where.
“I… Yes,” he said, “we’ve met. Where are we?”
Nacer shrugged. “Trust me. It’s nowhere you want to be.”
“Oh, hello,” another voice, high and musical, called out. “Meesa—”
“I’m going to just stop you there,” Nacer cut the strange creature off. “Everyone here’s a bit like that.”
Wallack sighed. This didn’t sound promising.
And speaking of sounds, in the distance, someone named Tom began to sing…
The guards, who had initially heeded Wallack’s order to “seize her” by lunging forward, made the smart choice and lunged back smartly.
Gerdy’s wand was trained on them—whatever protection they wore had been lost with its use. They eased back to the wall and allowed Gerdy the run of the room.
Catarina lay crumpled on the floor. She showed no trepidation in saving Gerdy’s life, so Gerdy would have to do the same.
But how?
Gerdy tried to remember what her outline said to do here. But this was the exact place it was lacking. Now she just had to wing it and hope for the best.
She eased the girl onto her shoulders and made for Myra’s bed. They could just fit on top of it, all three of them.
But the low rumble of stone shifting signaled the Grand Sovereign was getting back to his feet.
“Did you really think you could do me in?”
“No, not really,” Gerdy said truthfully. “But I did think I might slow you down a bit.”
He was pretty quick for an old man. His first spell was unexpected, the second one, too. He summoned Catarina from Gerdy’s arms. Her limp body sailed across the room and out of Gerdy’s reach.
Then, in true wizard fashion, he hurled a ball of fire Gerdy’s way. She reacted instinctively. Not knowing what to do, she bound her emotions with magic. Just as Epik used his halfling ability to vanish, Gerdy bound the spell with her common everyday dwarfish ability. She had no need to fear fire—the heat of a hundred forges burned in her blood.
Unsinged, she sent another strength spell at the old wizard. This one shook the room. Both the Grand Sovereign and Catarina were buried in the rubble.
But no matter what spell she tried, Gerdy couldn’t lift the stones to set Catarina free. Sensing the Grand Sovereign was close to recovery, Gerdy ran to Myra.
The guards made a swift departure up the fireplace when the ceiling of the chamber room began to buckle.
There were no other exits.
Stone careened down, an avalanche. And it stopped. The room began to magically alter; the walls stopped shaking. Everything darkened and began to look more and more like Gerdy’s cell in the dungeon. The Grand Sovereign was going to trap her inside once more.
Think! she thought.
But what Gerdy thought were just wishes—stupid childish wishes.
She wished they were
out of the room. She wished the bed could fly. And she wished she’d paid more attention to how exactly magic worked.
It’s a good thing the bond between magic and wishes is a strong one.
“Come on, do something,” Gerdy wailed. She tapped the bedknob three times or more with her makeshift wand.
And the bed disappeared. When it reappeared, it was flying in the clouded sky above King’s Way. Gerdy guided it on the wind with Myra still snoring next to her.
A short time later, Sanchez skittered out of the fireplace elevator and made a run for the curtains, unnoticed.
The Grand Sovereign and Catarina, both injured, staggered out into the parlor behind him.
Things had not gone to plan. The cat had followed as Gerdy instructed and waited in the corner of the room, barely visible, a gray cat against a gray stone wall. Yes, Gerdy and Myra had gotten away. But Sanchez was left behind. Again forgotten.
This is why you can’t trust a human, he reminded himself.
And now he was stuck in a room with two of the most untrustworthy humans in the realm.
Sanchez sat on his haunches. Then he poked his head around the curtain, surveying the room.
The humans both took seats.
“Well, that didn’t go as scripted,” the Grand Sovereign said. He sounded unruffled with a slight hint of bitterness.
“Maybe had I been in on the script, I could’ve—”
“No, no, you played your part well enough. It was I who was foolish.”
“I’m just saying,” said Catarina—just saying, “had you returned my memory sooner, I probably would’ve—”
“You’d have killed her,” the Grand Sovereign cut in again. “I knew what I was doing. She had to trust you. And my plan is still intact, well, mostly intact.”
“You really thought stealing your granddaughter’s magic would be so easy?”
“Well, I—it’s not something I could have foreseen.” His expression turned grim.
So, too, did the cloud hovering above the castle. Sanchez wondered if he could find an open window.
“But your son foresaw you would send her to sleep. If I had my wits about me, her blood—”
“No!” the Grand Sovereign cried. “Her blood is connected with mine. We’ve been over that one before.”
“Will you stop cutting me off?” Catarina asked. “This was a partnership the last time I checked. Why’d it take you so long to fix what that half-man did to me?”
The Grand Sovereign stood and began to maneuver his hand over the span of his body, mending the cuts and the bruises. “Magic,” he admitted. “I was almost out.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“It doesn’t matter who. It matters you’re here now, restored to full strength. Putting yourself in front of her, really sold it, you know. Now your sister thinks you’re on their side.”
Sanchez was just able to leap on a narrow windowsill where his paws fit one after the other. He scratched at the first pane. It didn’t budge.
“What next?” Catarina asked. “You said your plans are intact.”
“They are. We sit tight, and Epik will come to us.”
“You can’t think—”
“Oh, yes I can. Kavya’s already on her way.”
Sanchez pawed the next window. It opened, barely enough to squeeze his head through, but he managed. And eventually, after a day or so of yowling, he climbed down from the high castle roof20.
32
The Truth (part 2)
Epik woke to a cold and empty bed—a really empty bed. There was a distinct lack of old witch, which wasn’t a bad thing, but the lack of witch included Kavya. He slid his hand to her side of the bed, which felt like ice.
How long has she been up? And what is she up to?
But when Epik opened his eyes, he realized he’d asked the wrong question. Kavya’s side was smooth, the covers pulled to the pillow.
She wasn’t in the room, nor the kitchen, and nowhere to be seen inside ore outside the house. Epik rounded the cottage, his bare feet slushing through the melting snow.
“Kavya,” he called loudly.
No answer, save a dairy cow’s moo and a stray cock-a-doodle-doo.
The back door opened and Begonia leaned out.
“She’s not out there, and not in here either, love.”
“What do you mean?” Epik looked up at the old witch. But somewhere inside, Epik knew exactly what she meant. He had known for a long time this might happen.
For one moment, Epik decided to play the fool, feigning a perplexed look.
Begonia didn’t buy it. “You know as well as I do where she’s gone off to.”
“But how?” he asked. “And why now?”
“It has something to do with that sister of hers. Something to do with your friend, as well—she’s on her way here, you know?”
He didn’t know. “Who? Gerdy?”
“Yes,” Begonia sighed. “And if you’re really wondering how Kavya left—there’s a broom missing from the hall closet.”
Epik bit his lip, nodding. Of course, the broom. Then he thought if he left now maybe he could catch up to her before—
“No, dear, you won’t catch her in time.”
“Okay…” Epik said slowly. “Then I guess I need the why. And, uh, another how—how do you know Gerdy’s on her way?”
“Kavya walked in on us last night, ball gazing.” She rolled her eyes at Epik’s expression. “Oh, it sounds worse than it is. It’s sorta like a crystal ball, but not.”
“So, you saw into the future?”
“No, not the future—I said like a crystal ball. No, what we were seeing was the present. The Grand Sovereign, he had Kavya’s sister, your friend Gerdy, and your sister all in one room. There was a tussle—Gerdy and Myra got away. Kavya’s sister did not.”
“Okay… What happened next?”
“Well, it wasn’t really next, now was it? What happened was Kavya was upstairs. She came into the parlor—behind us. And she saw it, everything.” Begonia’s face hardened. “What happened next was she left. And we couldn’t stop her from leaving.”
Schmilda’s head sprouted between Begonia and the doorframe. “We didn’t really try though.”
“What—why didn’t you try?”
“It’s complicated,” Begonia said.
“She got a good enough head start.” Schmilda’s head retreated into the recesses of the kitchen. “I guess we can tell him all we know before he leaves.”
“And what good will that do?” Begonia asked after her.
“Wizards,” Schmilda said, matter-of-factly. “Having to know things is one of their traits. It’ll help him complete his training.”
Begonia clucked. “I know you’re right. Though I never did understand why they always want to fill their brain to the brim when a good book with an index is all you need.”
“And a cauldron…”
“What about Kavya?” Epik asked. He was ready to leave their witchy nonsense, the rest of their story, and their magic behind.
“Oh, Epik, it’s you the Grand Sovereign wants. She’ll only be bait. And I’m afraid it’s her sister who’s the net.”
Dora was already seated at the table waiting on them, her cup of coffee steaming. A half-eaten piece of toast on a plate beside it. Her makeup, as usual, was done to the nines. She greeted them with her signature slow blink.
“Bait?” Epik cried. He followed the witches inside the room.
“Yes, well, your best friend and your sister weren’t enough to lure you there, now, were they?” Schmilda poured two cups of coffee. “It’s always the love interest, isn’t it?” she remarked.
Schmilda handed a cup to Begonia who said, “Oh, I think there’s been a bit more than interest going on back there.” And the old witch winked.
He didn’t have time to blush. “Okay, how does this ball thing work? Can I see where Kavya is now?”
Schmilda scratched the straggly hairs on her chin. “You could, but it
wouldn’t matter…”
“I could speak to her, telepathically. Stop her.”
“Again, it won’t matter… She won’t stop. This is the way things are meant to play out.”
“How can you know that?”
“The ball tells all,” Dora said.
“Oh go on,” Epik urged. “It’s not like you answer my questions anyway. You’re worse than my father was when he was Gabby.”
Schmilda cackled.
“The ball needs hair.” She plucked one from her chin absentmindedly. “From a relative.”
Begonia sighed. “It’s like a ball of string—”
“Except that it’s a ball of hair,” Schmilda interrupted.
Dora coughed.
“With it,” Begonia said, “we glimpse a portal across the realm. It’s like folding a shirt, except it’s a piece of space and time. Witches used to pluck their own hair, or more often take the ball from the washing tub, to speak with their sisters out in the world.”
“A bit primitive,” Schmilda conceeded, “not exactly that telephony thing, but it works in a pinch—or, rather, a pluck.”
“Why didn’t you tell me—why didn’t we use it before?” Epik grew more frustrated by the second. Anger boiled inside him. Things were never straightforward.
“Oh, we did use it. But your sister was asleep.”
“Boring, really.” Dora shrugged as if this actually explained everything.
“And Kavya’s sister was in the cell with Gerdy. We knew it was best to keep that a secret for the time being.”
“You took our hairs without telling us? So, is that how you saw it, you followed Catarina around?”
“Oh, heavens no,” Schmilda dismissed that notion.
“Also boring,” Dora confessed. “They were in the cell, gabbing away about trifles.”
“No, it was Todder’s hair that brought about our breakthrough.”
“Todder’s?” The halfling wished they’d just get to the point.
“You see, Schmilda had a theory.”
“A proven theory,” the witch interjected.
Begonia sighed again. “Yes, we know. One of our own, Rainbow, left here many years ago with a man, a wizard, by the name of Doland Knuth.” She put her hand up to stop Epik from saying anything. “Yes, yes, the one from the books.”
Sight Beyond Epik Sight: A Steampunk Fantasy Romp (Epik Fantasy Book 3) Page 14
