Shock of Fate: A Young Adult Fantasy Adventure (Anchoress Series Book 1)

by D. L. Armillei

  “Consequence?” Van asked, feeling the color drain from her cheeks.

  “It is easier for a person to turn away from the Light and cling to Darkness,” Uxa explained, “because evil is so tempting. It lies, manipulates, tricks. It is much harder to return to the Light after being seduced by Darkness. Your father turned away from the Light the moment he entered into a pact with demons. He will do anything to get the Coin. Without it, he will not rule Salus Valde. The Coin itself has inherent magical properties from which anyone can benefit, but it also has the power to amplify magic. If a person accesses the Coin to use its power without pure intent, or not for the good of the Light, then the Coin’s energy will magnify the dark part of the Self and cause the person to fall further into Darkness. Vanessa, your father has aligned with the Balish agenda of domination and has conspired with demons. If he even touches the Coin, he will be lured by its power and will suffer a fate worse than death. He will be consumed by Darkness. His soul will be lost forever.”

  Van shook from head to toe. She couldn't go home now, and talking with Uxa made her even more terrified about the mission. Van slunk back to her seat and didn’t answer Paley’s inquisitive stare.

  Uxa shouted, “Tick tock, people,” loud enough to bring the group to order. “The Elementals have placed us on a time constraint. We have already lost a full day. Your mission is to find the Coin and bring it back to me, at Lodestar, before midnight of the next full moon. Twenty-nine days. Obtaining the Coin will prove to the Elementals we have the ability to defeat any demon, the same way Goustav did a thousand years ago. This will keep Manik’s law intact, thus preventing another Great War between the Lodians and the Balish.”

  Hoots and cheers from team Echo filled the room.

  Karpos cried, “We got this!”

  “My warriors!” Uxa called out.

  The team hushed.

  “Your path will be dangerous and difficult,” Uxa said gravely. “I ask each of you to walk strong, cling to your inner Light, and use discipline to achieve your goal. When you find yourself doubting, remember this: you are the chosen ones. You will succeed. You must. The survival of Salus Valde depends on it.” Uxa let her words sink in, then gestured to dismiss them. “For now, you rest. Roll call is at five a.m.”

  Once Van and Paley were back in their room, Paley chattered nonstop. “I can’t wait to see where my parents came from. . . . Brux is so cute. . . . Too bad you didn’t get team leader . . . ”

  It was near midnight. They changed into nighttime T-shirts and shorts, then slipped into bed. Van sank into her mattress, exhausted, but instead of falling asleep, she focused her eyes on the ceiling. The bloody patch with the name Rogziel drifted into her mind. It had to be a clue from the night her father disappeared, which was why that little animal had been so determined she keep it. Van needed to find Rogziel. She felt certain he had important information regarding the attack on Prince Devon. Maybe he’d survived the attack. Finding him meant finding out the truth about her father.

  Van jumped out of her skin when a soft chirrup broke through the tranquility of the bedroom. The little animal had returned and sat on top of her backpack, as cute and glowy-white as ever. It bounced on its springy tail, its long, bunny-like ears arched for balance. Its round eyes stared at Van.

  “Brrrup mrpt.”

  “You again!” Van muttered under her breath. “How’d you get to this world? Or this room, for that matter?” She eyed the crack under the door and wondered whether the little thing could squish underneath, the same way kittens did in her world. She flung off her sheets and tiptoed over to the little animal. It bounced upright off its coiled tail, which then retracted down to a fluffy ball on its backside. Its tiny white paws twinkled like stars as it padded in a full circle. The funny little thing had started to grow on Van. “Since you keep showing up, I’m going to give you a name. I’ll call you . . . Wiglaf!”

  Wiglaf pattered around in circles and then stopped to peer at Van. Finally, she noticed what it was romping on. The text! “How’d you get that out of my backpack?”

  “Mrruwp eep,” Wiglaf answered.

  Van flicked on the desk light, hoping it wouldn’t wake Paley, shooed Wiglaf away, and picked up the text. The partly burned title still read **ridicus Lib***lus.

  Veridicus Libellus! This book was Manik’s text!

  Wiglaf butted its head against the book.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll open it,” she said, catching on quickly. “But it’s written in a language I can’t read. Jeepers. For something so cute, you can be annoying.”

  She moved her backpack and sat at the desk. Using the tips of her fingers, she carefully turned through the crumbling pages, searching for anything that made sense. Out of frustration, she flipped the pages back and forth, back and forth. She noticed that when she fanned the pages, she could see . . . yes! It was a map! Hidden throughout the pages of the text! Van saw a circle with a pentagram in its center. It looked like a coin. She kept flipping the pages and gasped when the strange writing around the circle became clear to her: Item of Creation—it was the Coin of Creation! The Coin!

  Van’s stomach churned in anguish. She had the map to the Coin. But she couldn’t tell anyone because . . . because . . . her father had attempted to burn it. Van wiped her eyes, trying not to get the text wet with her gushing tears. She hadn’t truly believed he had sided with Solana and was conspiring with demons. But now, the burned text was evidence that proved otherwise. No Lodian would destroy a text that described the location of a weapon so powerful, it would protect them from an invasion by the Balish or demons. Unless he was a traitor.

  Van recalled the dream she’d had in the bushes outside the Manor, when she witnessed her father throwing Manik’s text into the fireplace. He had said, “Let us hope . . . no Lodian . . . ever lays a hand on this.” The patch had slid from the binding of the text. Van’s hand had lain close enough for her to get a visual impression of her father following Solana’s orders to burn the text, so their enemies wouldn’t have a map to the Coin. Both of them were aware that the Lodians’ Anchoress-in-Waiting could intuitively locate the Coin, but, as Fynn and Uxa had mentioned, the Anchoress heir was weak and unskilled—something Van had in common with Daisy. Van’s father and Solana seemed confident they would find the Coin before the Lodians’ Anchoress-in-Waiting did.

  But why had her father burned the text in his study? He could have gotten rid of the text anywhere. What was so important that he would risk going back to the Manor? And what made him leave before he knew the text was completely destroyed?

  With a sense of dread, Van realized if anyone caught her with the text in her possession, it would look as if she were working with her father. No one, not even Uxa, would believe in her innocence. She would be accused of treason, spying, and conspiring with demons. She’d be blamed for the murder of Prince Devon and the death of Queen Brigid. This text was dangerous!

  Her first impulse was to chuck the book out the nearest window, but only solid walls surrounded her. The bathroom! Flush the text! She hurried to the toilet, crashed onto her knees, and was about to tear the book to pieces when a shrill “Whurrup!” halted her.

  Van raised her eyes to Wiglaf, sitting on the tank. His ears stood up straight and alert. He rested his paws on the text Van held between her trembling hands and then chattered a sentence in animal talk.

  The dark blue of Wiglaf’s eyes filled Van with tranquility. She felt calm, composed. Whatever had she been thinking? She couldn’t destroy the text. Her mission depended on its information. Hadn’t her father tried to destroy it, too? Van shuddered. Maybe she was more like him than she realized. “All I have to do is keep it hidden.”

  Wiglaf leaned back onto the toilet tank.

  Van reached over and scratched the animal behind its ears. “Thanks, little guy.”

  She left the bathroom, tiptoed past Paley, and tucked the text into her backpack. She slipped into bed and pulled the sheets over her head. A thump landed on the mattr
ess. She heard a rumbling purr and then felt little paws as they kneaded out a place to nest on her stomach. Eventually, Wiglaf settled in, and Van fell into a restless sleep.

  Her dreams were plagued with images of faceless soldiers dressed in black. They slashed bloody swords, slaughtering innocent toga-wearing bystanders in their way, as they relentlessly pursued her.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Day 2: 4:35 a.m., Living World

  A sharp knock jerked Van awake.

  “Get up, warriors. It’s near five a.m.,” a voice called through the door. It was Fynn. “Time’s a tickin’.”

  Despite feeling as if she had gone to bed only seconds ago, Van awoke rested and ready to go. She made a move to leap out of bed but stopped, due to a warm weight on her stomach. Wiglaf!

  The creature lifted its cute face and raised half an ear.

  A moving lump groaned from the other bed. Paley was awake.

  Van scooped up Wiglaf. “Sorry to bother you, little guy,” she whispered, getting out of bed.

  She went to her backpack, pulled out some clothes and Twinkle Toes, and dropped them on her bed. Then she tucked Wiglaf into her backpack. They were in a hurry, and the distraction of showing Paley the cute animal would make them late.

  They rushed around the room, getting dressed. Paley probably had Brux in mind when she chose to wear electric-blue contact lenses, claiming they made her look more “Lodian-y.” Van made sure they secured their Twin Gemstones, and a few minutes after five, they hurried downstairs dressed in jeans and sneakers and toting their backpacks.

  On the way, Van recalled last night’s dream, the one that had stopped the nightmare of faceless soldiers. A woman had appeared, ghostlike and ethereal. She wore an amaranthine dress that flowed in a mystical breeze. Her waist-length hair, perhaps once blonde, had long ago lost its youthful color. Her compassionate light-blue eyes held many secrets. Her alabaster skin managed to escape the ravages of time. The overall combination of her coloring gave her the appearance of albinism. Van knew this woman. She had appeared in Van’s dreams as a child and still looked exactly the same. Her name was Jacynthia.

  Overjoyed to see her childhood friend, Van tried to speak, but the words stuck in her throat.

  Jacynthia paid no notice and said stoically, “A time has come when there is darkening of the Light in the external worlds. You must use this journey to build your spiritual Self. Carry peace in your heart, for if you attach to Darkness, you will be swallowed by it and suffer great misfortune. Do you understand?”

  Van nodded, too insecure to admit she didn’t understand.

  “When challenges arise during your journey, turn to me for guidance.” Jacynthia blurred and flickered. “A person without spiritual sustenance can inadvertently stray from the Light during challenging times. Call on me . . . ” Jacynthia faded into the night.

  Van wanted to tell Paley about the return of Jacynthia, but they had entered the dining room, the last to arrive. Again.

  “Hey, Jorie!” Swanhilda bellowed. “The rest of your team finally decided to show up.” Snorts of laughter rumbled out from team Echo, whose members were busy throwing the last of their gear together. All except Daisy, who sat on the floor in a corner. Team Echo had dressed down: some wore plain hand-sewn T-shirts with loose-fitting jackets, some had frayed buttoned-down shirts, and all of them wore cargo pants and hiking boots. Although team Echo had finished eating breakfast, some still managed to fling a few hot cross buns at Van and Paley as they joined team Delta.

  “We’re on time,” Van said defensively. “Did we miss something?”

  Last night’s dinner table and chairs were gone, and the panel in the wall had been opened, except now the buffet counter was covered with gear—ropes, backpacks, maps, compasses, daggers, and pick axes.

  “Don’t worry,” Jorie mumbled. She sat cross-legged on the floor, sharpening Zachery a little too aggressively. Her tight grip made her nub-finger all the more noticeable. “We got here early. Doesn’t matter. We’re all here now.”

  “Hey, team Dud!” Marcus yelled from across the room. “We’re going south through Tipereth Forest.”

  “Thanks for the notice,” Brux said. “I’ll be sure to let the Balish know.”

  “I’m only telling you so you don’t follow us, meathead,” Marcus growled.

  Karpos sneered. “Your pathetic team won’t last one second outside Salus Valde.”

  “Ignore them,” Jorie warned, before Brux could retort. She barely glanced at Van and Paley and said, “Grab some breakfast and get packing.”

  “Where?” Paley mouthed to Van.

  Van flicked her shoulder and shook her head. There was no food to be found.

  “Use the boundless bowl,” said the lanky warrior, Elmot, cheerfully. He shoved a worn, wooden bowl at Van. “Sorry, there’s only one left, and we had to fight team Echo to keep them from taking it.” He sighed and glanced over at the counter. “They took all the best stuff. Must not have slept more than an hour.”

  “Thanks,” Van said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. She flipped the empty bowl over and back, wondering where there was supposed to be food.

  Paley shrugged, also baffled.

  Elmot caught on. “It’s enchanted. Hold the bowl in both hands. Ask for what you want to eat or drink, making sure to keep the food pictured in your mind, and it will fill. Leaving a self-generating magical imprint on an object takes a very high skill level. Boundless bowls are very rare. I’m impressed Uxa managed to get five.”

  Paley leaned toward Van and shouted, “Bacon sandwich!” at the boundless bowl. Nothing happened.

  “Let me try.” Van held the bowl as instructed and said, “Two egg-and-cheese sandwiches,” while picturing them in her mind. Instantly, two warm egg-and-cheese sandwiches appeared in the bowl, exactly as Van had visualized.

  Paley grabbed one. “Mmm! They smell incredible.”

  They scurried to a corner to eat.

  Yoatl and Karpos walked by, nearly stepping on them. Van overheard Yoatl say to Karpos, “—Michael Cross, he’s not worth the dirt he stands on.”

  “I hope I run into him,” Karpos replied, smashing his fist into the palm of his hand.

  Van put her sandwich down, no longer hungry.

  “Not gonna eat this?” Paley asked, snatching up Van’s half-eaten sandwich, then gleefully took a bite.

  “Do a last check of your gear, team!” Swanhilda announced to the room. “Time to get moving.” Her entire team—excluding Daisy, who carried no equipment—wore enormous backpacks with ropes, picks, and other gear hanging off.

  “Daisy!” Brux called out, as he rushed over to his sister.

  Daisy tried to meet him halfway but was snapped back by Marcus, who’d roughly grabbed the back of her shirt. “No fraternizing with the enemy.” He smirked at Brux. “Don’t worry, big brother. I’ll take real good care of her. I’ll personally make sure she’s tucked into bed every night.”

  Brux charged at Marcus.

  Jorie and Swanhilda raced over to break up the fight, each pulling back her own teammate.

  “Enough!” Jorie cried. She glowered at Swanhilda. “Just leave!”

  Marcus and the other Echoes ignored Jorie’s request, mumbled a few insults about team Delta, and continued checking their gear.

  Brux pulled Daisy aside.

  They clasped right wrists.

  Brux’s eyes welled up. “Walk in Light, sister.” He broke from the parting ritual and pulled her in for a hug.

  “Live in bliss, brother,” Daisy said, smothered by Brux, her eyes dewy.

  “’Cause heaven’s right here, brother.” Marcus pointed to his crotch, as he thrust his hips forward.

  Karpos and Yoatl guffawed.

  Instantly, Trey and Elmot were on Brux, holding him back.

  “Brux! Stop,” Daisy pleaded. “Let us live in a world of peace.”

  Jorie flung Zachery. It cut into the floor, barely an inch from Marcus’s feet. “Leave,” said J
orie through clenched teeth.

  Swanhilda put a calming hand on Marcus’s shoulder. She glared at Jorie and shouted, “Echo—we’re out!”

  After team Echo left, the room seemed strangely quiet. Fighting the unsettled feeling that they were already behind, Van grabbed Paley, and they hurried over to select their gear. Two used backpacks sat on the table. They each reached for one, when Jorie stopped them.

  “You guys are too small to carry one of those on your back. You’ll have to make do with the backpacks you have.” She stared at Van’s. “Wish I could dirty yours up a bit, though.” Jorie shook her head despairingly, then commanded, “Get rid of most of your personal items and pack some gear from the table.”

  Van grabbed whatever was smallest: a compass (she wasn’t sure how to use it), a detailed map of the northern region (in case the map in the text correctly showed the Coin’s location), a book of matches (she tucked them into her pocket), a coil of rope (“Long enough for most purposes,” Trey told her), and a brushed leather pouch shaped like a teardrop (“Fill it with water from the boundless bowl,” Elmot suggested). She tossed each item into her backpack.

  Paley did the same with her choice of items.

  “Pack these,” Jorie said, shoving thick, black sunglasses, wooly scarves, leather gloves, small squares made of silky brown material (Van had no idea what they were), and ugly weather-resistant utility jackets at both of them. “Just in case.”

  Van carefully packed all of the items around Wiglaf, snoozing in a mesh inner pocket. She took out her hairbrush and began stroking her hair.

  “Van, ditch the hairbrush,” Jorie commanded. “It’s much too fancy to support our cover story. You two need to change into clothes that fit your new role.” She pointed to the far corner of the counter at a heap of battered clothes. “Leave your own clothes here—all of them.” She eyed both Van and Paley. “They’re a dead giveaway you’re not marketier’s scouts.”