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

by D. L. Armillei

  “I’m fine,” Van said weakly, still sitting on the floor.

  “Paley being here is killing you!” Brux said to Van.

  “Oh, thanks a lot!” wailed Paley.

  “It’s not Paley,” croaked Van, certain the Gemstones had nothing to do with her vision of Amaryl. She had passed out from receiving impressions from touching the chalice, but she felt too weak to explain this to the disgruntled group.

  Paley threw Brux a smug glare and sat on the floor next to Van.

  “There’s no possible way to send Paley back. She’s staying,” Jorie declared. “We’re going back to the barn.”

  “What about the gnomes?” Elmot asked, worried, as they left the Troll’s Foot. “What will we offer them?”

  “We’ll come up with something,” Trey concluded. “Jorie, keep praying to the Light.” He said it in a mocking tone, though, deep down, he probably meant it.

  The others agreed that it was time to move onward—gift or no gift.

  Van felt relieved to be back in the damp, smelly barn, tucked into her snuggly sleeping bag by the fire. Brux lay next to her, constantly sneaking glances under hooded eyes, waiting for her to fall asleep.

  But Van couldn’t sleep. She had too many questions, and Brux’s worried energy disrupted her thoughts, so she couldn’t call on Jacynthia.

  Amaryl had taken Van back a thousand years to show her something important. For the life of her, she didn’t know what, other than a lesson in sex education. Van cheeks flushed again.

  Van knew two things: First, she felt certain the vision Amaryl had shown her was real. Second, the man with Amaryl in the garden that night was not her husband, Rowen . . . it was the Balish Prince Goustav.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Days 9 and 10: Living World

  Van’s cheeks reddened every time she thought about Amaryl’s vision.

  “Do you feel okay?” Brux asked, still concerned about the effect of the Twin Gemstones on her.

  Van knew she would never get to sleep with Brux fussing over her, so she told him about the vision she got from touching Amaryl’s goblet, minus the more intimate details.

  “You had a memory engram,” he said, impressed. “It means someone from the spirit realm reached across time and space to tell you something. It’s a rare ability. Van!” He seemed excited. “That’s your skill!”

  Thrilled to finally become aware of her skill, she realized she had possessed it for as long as she could remember. Too bad she didn’t know how to use it.

  Neither of them could figure out what message Amaryl had tried to pass on to Van, but, after fessing up about the vision, Van found it easy to fall asleep alongside Brux.

  When morning came, she reluctantly awoke. Every muscle in her body ached, and she had a raging headache. She felt exhausted, as if she needed to go to sleep for the night all over again.

  Roguey brought them a delicious breakfast of eggs, bacon, ham, and toast smothered in homemade butter. They drank fresh yak’s milk, to which Paley commented, “Yuck! It makes me want to yack!” She giggled hysterically at her own lame joke.

  Van wasn’t in the mood for Paley’s sense of humor, though she silently agreed with her friend. The milk wasn’t thick and sweet like cow’s milk, but, as Jacynthia had advised at their last meeting, Van “maintained her gratitude” and drank it anyway.

  She dug deeply into her well of gratitude after realizing the only place to wash was in the pig’s trough. She held back tears and longed for her bathroom in Mt. Hope Manor, pink and clean with fresh running water and fluffy, lavender-scented towels.

  Roguey okayed them to leave the barn but warned against lingering in Araquiel.

  They heeded his warning and stopped only once, quickly, to pick up food and supplies. At Elmot’s insistence, they spent most of Trey’s remaining money on a square of gray honeycomb paper called graphene that projected a holographic map of Yesod, including the Caves of Wolfenden.

  With no money left, enough food to last a few days, and one really cool map, they headed north toward the feral land of Yesod.

  As they traveled, the terrain steepened. The air turned bitterly cold, reminding Van of the harsh Massachusetts winters. She wrapped a scarf around her face, wore gloves, and pulled a hood over her head. As the afternoon progressed, the sky turned gray and threatening.

  “Storm’s coming in,” Elmot said. He closed one of his paper maps. The sky rumbled, making him peer upward. “Snow thunder.”

  “We need to find shelter,” Jorie said. “Your maps show any caves, Elmot?”

  “My holographic map is of Yesod,” Elmot said. “We’re still in Fleelmulf. I don’t have a topographic map of this area.”

  “I’ll scout for some caves,” Trey said. “Find one we can make camp in.”

  “The terrain in this area is too unstable for you to be climbing around,” Elmot warned. “Acrobatics champ or not.”

  Jorie shook her head. “No. No way. Stay put, we’ll—Trey!”

  But Trey was already scuttling up the jagged boulders on the mountainside.

  While Van and Paley enjoyed a much-needed snack of smoked boar sticks, Trey reappeared on the precipice of a stone cliff.

  He called down, waving his arm in a wide arc. “I found a cave! It’s not far from where you are.”

  “Watch your step!” Elmot shouted nervously.

  Van wished Elmot would stop being everyone’s mother, when she suddenly felt her butt vibrate. The rock she sat on shimmied. The trees trembled. Small stones tumbled down around them.

  Trey, caught off guard, lost his footing and plummeted down the rocky mountainside.

  “Trey!” Jorie screamed, as the ground shook. She held herself steady, clutching a nearby boulder.

  Once the quaking stopped, Van and the others rushed to search for their comrade.

  Within minutes they found him. He lay on the ground at the foot of the mountain. His crossbow and some arrows had scattered around him.

  “Hey, guys,” Trey said amicably, trying to mask his pain. “What took you so long?” He heaved himself upright with some strain.

  His forehead glistened with sweat, and, at first, Van thought he appeared to be in okay shape, except for some minor cuts and scrapes. Then she noticed his right leg sticking out at an unnatural angle.

  “It was a frost quake,” Elmot said. “The ground is shifting and cracking as it freezes.”

  Jorie cursed. Trey’s backpack had been split by the sharp rocks from his fall. Its contents had spilled, lost forever in the crevices and the gaps between the boulders. Everything was gone. Including most of their food supply.

  “Damn it!” Trey said, lowering his head. “All my medicines—” He shook his head, practically in tears.

  “Including painkillers,” Jorie stated.

  “I have some drops that might help prevent infection,” Elmot offered.

  “I don’t want any of your poison drops!” Trey said, cringing from the pain.

  Trey instructed Brux, Jorie, and Elmot how to make a splint from branches. Van and Paley wanted to help, but Jorie shooed them away. Jorie and Brux supported Trey, as they all went into the nearby cave Trey had seen before his fall. Brux and Jorie checked it out for any lingering creatures, like bears or AWOL Balish soldiers. With Trey’s injury and the impending storm, Jorie decided they would spend the night in the cave.

  Van felt secretly relieved that they’d been forced to stop. The burden of time slipping away was no match for her fatigued body. They made camp far enough inside to protect them from the cold northern wind but not far enough in to set off Van’s claustrophobia.

  Trey sat propped against the wall, pale, sweaty, his breathing shallow.

  “Too bad your bunfy’s not here,” Jorie said. “Their purrs heal the soul. He could help out Trey right now.” Jorie stared expectantly at Van.

  Van scowled. “I can’t pull him out of a hat. He’s not a magic trick.”

  Jorie shrugged and decided to cast a pain-reducing sp
ell on Trey’s leg. Medicinal magic was complex and not her specialty. “I’ll try and connect to the energy of the boulders to do the spell,” she said, holding her palms over Trey’s leg. “I’m not sure if it will work.”

  “Don’t, Jorie,” said Trey meekly. “It’s not worth the risk to your health.”

  “If she messes up the spell, there will be a cost,” Elmot nervously explained to Van and Paley. “Casting a spell that doesn’t work is draining. It will make Jorie susceptible to minor illnesses like head colds or will give her bad luck. The more complex the spell, the worse the repercussions will be.”

  Elmot attempted to give Trey his drops, admitting they were poison but that a small diluted dose would help ward off infection and reduce his pain. “Don’t be a hero,” Elmot said.

  Trey was in so much pain, he opened his mouth and let Elmot administer several drops of his medicine.

  After Jorie’s and Elmot’s efforts, Trey felt better, but they were all starving and their rations, negligible. Van was so hungry, she feared she might die from food deprivation. She remembered her secret stash of salted auroch strips from Roguey’s barn and tossed around the idea of taking them out, when Trey confessed to feeling guilty about losing his share of supplies. He talked Jorie and Brux into propping him up and taking him outside to bow hunt for their dinner.

  A couple of hours later, they returned in a light snowfall. Brux had collected bundles of dry branches for the fire, and Jorie carried several fat rabbits that Trey had managed to spear with his few remaining arrows.

  “Couldn’t you have at least caught a wild turkey or something?” Van complained, despite her hunger shakes. She and Paley felt distraught that Trey had killed the poor bunnies. Any of them could’ve been Wiglaf or one of his friends.

  “They’re northern buttertail rabbits, not bunfys,” Jorie said, as she prepared them for dinner.

  Elmot cooked the rabbits on an improvised spit over an open fire. The roasting rabbit smelled so good, Van and Paley lost their qualms about trying it. It wasn’t bad.

  “Tastes like chicken,” Paley said, helping herself to more.

  After dinner, Van felt queasy. Worried, she wondered whether she was coming down with something or had eaten too much on an empty stomach—or maybe keeping Paley here with the Twin Gemstones had drained her energy. She decided to go to bed. She inflated her sleeping bag and slipped inside.

  Brux’s watchfulness annoyed her, so she pulled the sleeping bag over her head and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  She woke at the crack of dawn to Jorie’s cursing.

  “Damn it!” Jorie yelled, kicking the dirt. “We’re snowed in!”

  As Van stretched her arms, she became aware of a soft, intermittent whirring, like a mini-motor. She lifted her head. A fluffy white mound lay curled up in the crook of her knee. Her heart soared in delight. “Wiglaf!”

  The bunfy lifted his head, along with half an ear. With his cute whiskery nose and fluffy fur, Van couldn’t resist reaching down and scooping him into her arms. She felt so hopeful and positive, her aches and pains seemed to fade. She hugged the little animal close to her chest. “You do make people feel better!”

  Wiglaf whirred even louder.

  “Look who’s back!” Paley said brightly, scratching Wiglaf under the chin.

  Van resisted the impulse to pull him away. Paley had been all over Brux, and now she wanted Van’s bunfy, too. Van shook off the feeling, knowing how ridiculous it was. And now, being so distracted by Paley, she had even forgotten about Trey.

  Van quickly placed Wiglaf on Trey’s lap. “I hope he helps.”

  Trey grunted thanks and feebly patted the purring animal.

  “Is he using magic to heal?” Van asked, concerned the little guy might drain himself of energy and get sick.

  “Bunfys exist at a higher vibrational frequency than we do,” Brux stated. “Their purrs range even higher. They give us an attitude adjustment, making us feel better so we have more positive thoughts. They don’t heal physical wounds.”

  “The purring doesn’t hurt Wiglaf, does it?” Van persisted.

  Brux responded, “Of course not. The—”

  “Enough chatter,” Jorie said, cutting him off. “I’m going stir crazy being cooped up again. We need to get moving. Figure out how to get around this snow!”

  Van wanted to keep moving, too, but she had no idea how Jorie thought Trey was in any shape to walk. She envisioned Jorie ordering Brux and Elmot to drag Trey, his wounded leg dangling behind. However, Wiglaf’s purrs worked like magic. Trey’s color looked better and he breathed normally, despite no reduction in his injuries. During the night, he had whittled a sturdy branch into a cane.

  “Ready to go,” Trey said with enthusiasm, wincing as he lifted the bunfy and struggled to his feet.

  Elmot pondered the holographic map, alongside one of his paper maps. “I think I’ve found a way!” he said excitedly. “We’re close to Yesod. I’m thinking we are in this mountain, here.” He pointed to an area at the edge of the paper map. “It looks like we could go deeper into this cave, which will lead us to this pathway.” He showed a tunnel system in the mountain displayed on the holographic map. “We’d come out on the other side of the mountain in Yesod, closer to the Caves of Wolfenden. That would save us time.”

  Jorie glanced warily at Elmot. “But?”

  “But I can’t be exactly sure where we are,” Elmot said. “This paper map shows Fleelmulf, but it’s not detailed. And from the looks of the holographic map, we’ll have to go through the center of the mountain. I’m not sure what lies in wait for us there.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Trey said bravely. “Let’s do it.”

  While Jorie beamed at Trey’s dedication, Brux said, “We’ll need light.”

  “And food,” Van added. She panicked at the idea of going deep into a mountain. It made her extremely anxious, and she gauged how much work it would be to dig through the snow wall blocking the exit to the outdoors.

  Paley gathered her things. She appeared well rested and unbothered by the change in plans, even the lack of food. She started flirting with Brux again.

  Brux acted cordial to her but kept his attention on Van. Wiglaf rubbed his body all over Brux’s ankles.

  “Good job healing, little guy,” Brux said. He bent down and scratched behind Wiglaf’s ears.

  Even Wiglaf had jumped on the Brux bandwagon. Van tsked, making Brux chuckle.

  Van scooped Wiglaf away from him. “You’re coming with us, right?” she said to the bunfy.

  She tried to stuff Wiglaf into her backpack, but he wriggled and scampered away to a nest he had made during the night. The collection of white fibrous balls on branches formed concentric circles, like a wreath inside a wreath. To Van, it was the cutest thing ever she had ever seen. “You want me to take your little nest with us? Okay!”

  “Don’t pack that thing,” Paley said scowling. “It’s dirty!”

  Van ignored Paley, knowing that her outburst had nothing to do with Wiglaf’s dirty nest. It had to do with Brux paying attention to Van. His attention confused Van. Brux had rejected her advances, then blatantly flirted with Paley. Now he seemed to be interested in Van again, which upset Paley. Van had no clue what was going on between the three of them, so she didn’t address the matter. Instead, she brushed the dirt from the nest and tucked it into her backpack.

  Wiglaf jumped in after it.

  Jorie, Brux, and Elmot used spare kindling to make torches and lit them from the fire, just before snuffing it out. All of them, except Trey, carried extra, in case the torches burned down to the nub and they needed more. Then Van and the others followed Elmot, as he led them into the hollows of the mountain.

  The tunnel walls shimmered with ice. Thick icicles hung from above like great fangs of a monstrous mouth. With the tunnels being wide, Van didn’t feel so enclosed. She figured Wiglaf also had something to do with soothing her anxiety.

  Occasionally, Van let Wiglaf out to stretc
h his legs and lick the ice walls. At first, she worried about his tongue getting stuck, but apparently Wiglaf’s bunfy magic warmed his tongue so he could drink. Van waited patiently until he finished and then dashed to rejoin the group. Every time she stopped, Brux hung back, waiting for her. Paley always hung back with him.

  As they traveled deeper into the cave, the ice walls created enough light to make the torches no longer necessary.

  “The light comes from the principle of geometrized harmonics,” Elmot explained. “Remember, from when I taught you about the land? The ice molecules create triboluminescence by moving against the minerals in the stone walls.”

  Van only half paid attention to Elmot’s summary. She couldn’t stop admiring the beauty of the walls. Eventually, she noticed deliberate patterns in the ice crystals. She studied them when Wiglaf stopped to drink. At first, she thought she had imagined the patterns, but with Wiglaf’s frequent stops, she discovered messages created within the ice. She was about to tell the others when Jorie interrupted.

  “You need to stop it with the bunfy breaks,” Jorie huffed.

  “Fine!” Van said briskly, stuffing the critter away.

  Paley gasped and waggled her finger at Van. “Your eyes! They’re glowing that weird purple color!”

  “What do you mean?” Van asked, alarmed.

  “They’re phosphorescent again,” Brux said. “They’re not flashing. They’re staying violet.”

  “They’ve never stayed this way before!” Van cried, struggling to see her reflection in the ice.

  “Brux, you knew about this and didn’t tell me?” accused Jorie.

  “I promised Van that I wouldn’t,” Brux said.

  “Van doesn’t like people mentioning her weird glowy eyes,” Paley added.

  “Let me see.” Jorie grabbed Van by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. “For the love of the Light! Your eyes! That glowy color is a telltale sign that the Eternal Light of the Creator is flowing in your veins,” Jorie said excitedly. “Guys, I think Van is the Anchoress-in-Waiting!”

  “I don’t want to be the Anchoress-in-Waiting!” Van retorted. She didn’t need any additional stress.