by Bo Burnette
Applause and cheering rose from the crowd, but Arliss ignored it.
She turned and stared at them, and the noise died. “If we do not prepare ourselves—if we do not pursue strength and vigilance—Thane will split through us like that arrow.” She paused, catching Philip’s eye among the crowd for a brief moment. “I have come to announce something that has long been on my mind.”
Philip squinted slightly, a hint of realization flitting across his face.
She looked away. “Thirteen years ago, we fled from the Isle of Light when the volcano erupted. We never went back, and we never tried to recover the things we lost there. Who knows how many secrets of our history lie buried beneath ash and stone?”
The crowd had seated themselves once again, but Kenton looked like he wanted to stand.
Arliss continued, “None of the children in the village have ever even seen the Isle, but it was our home for many generations. There may be secrets there. Things that could help us defend ourselves should Thane return. That is why I am going back.”
A sharp murmur ran through the crowd.
“Yes, I am going back to the Isle of Light! But I’m not going alone. I will need a ship and a crew. I am happy to consider anyone who will offer me their services.” She unstrung her bow, holding it in front of her like a staff. “That is all I have to say. Thank you.”
Kenton rose, his eyes distant as he stared at Arliss from the box. “The events are now dismissed,” he boomed across the arena. “Dinner will be held in the great hall.”
Arliss could see in his eyes that he was not thinking of dinner, or of the events. He looked almost sad as he nodded at her, signaling her to come to him. She nodded back and started towards the box.
His secrets were about to be revealed.
Chapter Six: The Hidden Burdens
“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO me.” Kenton’s grim face almost frightened Arliss as he booted about the small room.
He had led her to the top floor of the tower which stood poised at the edge of the cliffs, overlooking the vast ocean. The wood-planked room was empty but for two chairs and two opposing windows. Arliss sat in one of the two chairs as Kenton continued to pace near the left window.
“What have I done?” she asked. “I know you would rather me not go. But this is my choice.”
“This is not really about what you did, or what you said, Arliss.” He stopped pacing and folded his arms. “It is about what I’m about to say to you. Know that I am not angry at you when I say any of this. I am angry at myself more than anything.”
“Why are you angry at yourself? I don’t understand what you mean.”
He let his arms drop to his sides, his sleeveless crimson cloak nearly touching the floor. “I will explain everything. You deserve to know.”
With an enormous sigh like a dying wind, he seated himself in the chair beside her. She scooted hers around to face his and waited for him to speak.
After many long moments, he said, “I suppose it starts with the book—that ancient book that you have read so often. The one with the legend of the fiery arrow. The one with the secrets of the Lasairbláth. On his deathbed, my father Kenéad told me that book held many secrets. He said I had to read all the way through the end to discover them all.”
“So you have read it as well?”
“Not until after your grandfather’s death, after our flight here, did I finally read the book. And very little in the book truly surprised me until I reached the end.”
“Why the end?”
“Between the last page and the cover, my father had slipped an extra leaf into the book—another page, hastily written. There he wrote a secret which he said was known only to him and one other.”
Arliss wondered who the one other was, but she kept quiet. It would be too much to interrupt a third time.
“On that page, he had written about the ancient treasures of Reinhold,” Kenton continued. “These were, it seems, intricate heirlooms given to the royalty of the three clans long ago. Although my father never spoke of them to me, he poured out his secrets on this sheet of paper. According to the tales, each clan had received three gifts—a crown, a ring, and sword. These signified the duties of the royalty to their own clan and to the other clans.”
“Are they on the Isle?” Arliss opened her eyes wide. “Is that why—”
“Arliss,” he interrupted gently. “I’ll answer all your questions in due time.”
She rolled her lips between her teeth. She needed to learn to listen, to not have to take over others’ conversations. But everything he was saying—it lit fires in her mind, the questions sparking against her skull and forcing their way out. She stuck her bare toe into a gap in the floorboards, then bit her lower lip for good measure.
“My father wrote that these treasures had in olden times become objects of war between the clans, thus he wanted to hide them and protect them from swindlers and warmongers. To preserve them, he hid them all in different locations, and also created their hiding places such that they could only be opened by one of the other gifts. He did not say which gift was hidden where, or which gift opened which hiding spot; he left that to the discernment of his descendants.”
Arliss closed her eyes. This seemed quite a conundrum. If the location of some of the gifts could only be unlocked with other gifts, how could one go about unlocking them in the first place? It meant they weren’t all hidden.
“So the vault beneath the waterfall…”
“It undoubtedly holds one of the gifts. And, due to the word ‘choroín,’ I think that either the crown lies within, or it takes the crown of Reinhold to unlock the vault.”
She studied the wood grain of the floor as a bright feeling—like magic—rose in her chest. Ancient gifts…three clans…it felt such like a story. And to think that her own family was a part of this tale! It was almost too exciting to bear.
But Kenton seemed hesitant. In fact, the lines on his brow weren’t angry or even annoyed. They drooped, as his gaze also sought refuge in the floor.
“How did Thane know about the vault?” she asked at last.
“I assume he explored the entire oasis and discovered it that way.”
Arliss’s forehead strained as her brows scrunched. “So my grandfather constructed the vault—and the other hiding places—on his own? No one else knew?”
“I think he told one other…”
She leaned towards her him. “You know whom he told—I can see it in your eyes. Please, tell me.”
Kenton gripped the arm rests. “There is something else I must tell you first. At the bottom of my father’s page, he wrote a prophecy. It said—” his neck tightened. “—that the treasures would bring trouble, and that my eldest child would bear the brunt of it.”
Arliss sat back as if she had been shoved in the chest. “So that is why you did not want me to return to the Isle?”
Kenton looked up at her with his eyes shining. “Yes. I am sorry that I have not told you this before, but I did not have the heart. I did not want to believe it. But then you became fascinated with returning to the Isle of Light, and I saw that you were an explorer. Reinhold has not had an explorer since…”
“Since whom?” she pressed.
He covered his eyes, pressing against his temples. “Why have I held these secrets for so long?” He seemed to be conversing with himself. “It is because of Anmór—that evil land from which we fled. I promised myself we would never go back, that we would leave the Isle and everything beyond it in their own flames.”
“Who is the explorer you were speaking of?” She reached out for his hand.
His sigh was almost a groan. “A year ago, you told me that you wanted the brother you never had. I told you then that I knew how you felt. I was not lying then, and I am not lying to you now.”
Her heart thudded uncertainly in her chest as he continued.
“Though he rebelled against my father and fled from the Isle when you were only a baby, he still burns
in my memory. My brother.” He lost his voice entirely as he silently wept.
“Your—your brother?” She jumped up from her seat. “Why did you never tell me this?”
But he could not speak.
Blood pounding inside her forehead, Arliss pulled herself up and stumbled from the room.
The wind carried the sound of gulls and smell of salt up to Arliss where she stood atop the tower, her knuckles white from gripping the balcony railing of the watchtower. She felt she had been there for an eternity when she finally heard footsteps behind her. She turned around, expecting to find her father.
Instead, Elowyn stepped out of the door which poked up through the center of the roof. She closed it gently behind her and strode over to stand beside Arliss. For some time, neither spoke. Elowyn gazed out at the endless ocean, holding Arliss’s hand with gentle constancy.
“Your father did not want to hurt you when you were young,” Elowyn finally said.
“So he chose to hurt me now that I am grown?”
“He didn’t want to hurt you at all. He wanted to protect you from the prophecy.”
She faced her mother. “What can he do about that? Does he think he can change my fate?”
“No,” Elowyn replied. “But none can tell what true meaning of the prophecy holds. Only God knows the full extent of your destiny.”
“Then why has he not told me until now? About the treasure, about Anmór. About his brother.”
Elowyn sighed. “Your father feels that to return to the Isle would be to take one step back towards Anmór. That is not a step he is willing to make.”
“What choice does he have but to take the next step? We know now that Thane survived. Don’t you think he will return with war if we don’t do something?”
Elowyn threaded her fingers through Arliss’s. “There is a time for everything. A time to love and a time to hate, a time for peace and a time for war. This is a strange time, for it will hold a mix of them all.”
“What do you think is going to happen? With Thane, I mean.”
Elowyn lowered her head. “I will tell you the truth. There is no reason to hide it from you.” She leaned her head back and let her hair wisp in the wind. “I have foreseen something—how far in the future, I do not know. I do not even know if it will happen at all. But if Thane is to be killed, it will be at the hand of the child of a king.”
“So, a princess?”
Elowyn nodded. “Or a prince.”
“Well, since there aren’t any princes in Reinhold…”
Silence returned for a time before Elowyn spoke again, her voice floating on the gentle breeze. “I understand your desire to return to the Isle. But you have to make a choice, Arliss. What is more important to you: your life, or the life of your country?”
“I am doing this for my country.” She wrapped her arms around her mother. “But I am still doing it nonetheless.”
Releasing her mother from the embrace, Arliss turned towards the door and hurried down the stairs and out of the tower.
The freshness of the ocean air kissed Elowyn’s face as she waited for Kenton to join her on the balcony. This wind was not of Reinhold. It came from many places, across many seas. Who knew who else had breathed this air?
She heard Kenton’s footsteps ascending to the balcony long before he arrived.
“Arliss is not up here,” she said as he shut the door. “I spoke with her.”
“She knows everything now. I have pushed twenty years’ worth of secrets on her in a matter of minutes.”
She reached out to touch his broad shoulders. “Do not curse yourself.”
“Was I right to tell her, then?”
“Yes,” Elowyn looked away. “Still, this is a burden she should never have had to bear.”
Far below, Arliss leaned against the hard stone at the base of the tower, letting her thoughts trickle through her mind.
Her father had been hiding things from her all these years. It made him just short of a liar. A prophecy about herself, and she’d never been told? It was outrageous.
Then there was the matter of Thane. Sooner or later, he would show back up somewhere in Reinhold. Her mother’s words were proof that she, Arliss, was the one to bring him down. If she could find these ancient treasures, maybe they would help her defeat him.
She had just mentally set everything in order when Brallaghan came running towards her. His words exploded the peace she thought she had created.
“Arliss! Ill news—Cahal and the other prisoners have escaped the city!”
Chapter Seven: A Flash of Burgundy
ORLANDO TUGGED HIS CLOAK TIGHT AROUND HIS BODY as the night wind fought to blow it upwards. He had nearly reached the city. It stood easily within bowshot from where he crept across the plains. Hardly a light gleamed anywhere in the seaside town. All the better—everyone was sound asleep, and their escape could pass easily.
Of course, there would likely be guards at the gates. Yet if they were as inept as the guards back at the city, he could take care of them easily. He allowed something of a smirk as he fingered the hilt of one of his twin knives. Hardy as they were, not one soldier in Reinhold could match his skill, his training. The fight would be over before it began.
“Hurry up,” Orlando whispered to Cahal and the others as he cautiously approached the shadows near the city gates.
A distant noise startled Arliss halfway out of her slumber. She leaned forward slowly, feeling the unpleasant horror one feels when one has fallen asleep unintentionally. She bounded to her feet.
“It’s all right.” Philip’s voice came out of the shadows in front of her. “I figured I could let you sleep.”
She stood beside him, squinting in the dim light which crowded all around the cliffs where Philip stood watch. Below them—hundreds of feet below them—waves crushed upon the shore in careful intervals. His arms folded, Philip stood guard over the gateway to Reinhold.
“How long have I been asleep?” Arliss yawned.
“Only an hour or so. It’s not even midnight yet.”
“And no word from the sentries on the other side of the city?”
“No. They haven’t seen anything of Cahal or any other prisoner.”
She closed her eyes and shivered. “How could we have let this happen?”
“We didn’t let this happen. The incompetent guards back at this city did.”
She looked askance at him. “I don’t think it was the guards’ fault. Did you hear what Brallaghan said? He said the guards were knocked unconscious.”
“If I was Cahal, I would have knocked them unconscious as well.”
She stepped around in front of him, backing up within two feet of the edge of the cliff. “I mean that Cahal didn’t orchestrate the escape. He had help.”
“Help from whom?”
She didn’t want to answer, though she felt sickeningly that she knew very well from whom. Instead, she changed the subject. “We have to sleep sometime.”
Philip shook his head. “I’ll sleep during the day tomorrow while someone else keeps watch. We can’t relent until we find those villains and put them back where they belong.” He cast her a more tender look. “But if you’re tired, please, get some rest. I can handle this alone.”
“I could handle it on my own as well,” Arliss said.
“Perhaps so. But you don’t have to.”
She stared out at the sea. Her parents had returned to the castle—to secure the city and send out trackers after Cahal’s band. She’d insisted on staying behind. “I suppose you heard what happened with my father?”
“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”
A numbness permeated her side where her quiver had pressed as she slept. “As it turns out, there are some special treasures that are supposed to start a war; my father had a brother, now long dead, and thus I had another uncle; also, the reason my father doesn’t want me to go back to the Isle is because he’s afraid of going back towards the evil our clan once fled from
—the mythical kingdom of Anmór. And to top it all off, there’s some prophecy that says I’m going to bear the brunt of all this whatnot.”
“All that in a day’s work, then?”
“I’m convinced no one should become a princess. It really is a horrible occupation.”
“I should cancel my application, then?” He grinned.
She hardly noticed. She was looking towards the city. The long dirt road disappeared between the buildings like a dark arrow. But at the other end of the city—
“Do you see that light flickering?”
Philip whirled around, drawing his sword. “It’s Brallaghan’s signal—he needs help!” He took to his feet.
She pursued closely behind.
Arliss heard the shouts and the sizzle of swords being drawn long before she and Philip reached the other end of the city. Buildings loomed ominously up on either side of them; the dim shadow of the church’s bell tower stabbed the midnight sky. She took a steady breath and increased her pace, but Philip reached out to stop her.
“Wait.” His free hand pressed into her stomach, bringing her to a halt. “You have to stay here. Whatever’s going on up there, I can’t let you get tangled up in it.”
“I’m the princess! It’s my duty to protect my people.” She pushed his hand aside.
“Yes, but I’m your bodyguard. I could not risk the wrath of the king if something happened to you. Stay here and cover for me.”
“How am I supposed to do that? Shoot arrows through stone walls?”
He glanced towards the roofs of the buildings. “You’ll figure something out.”
He dashed off towards the gates as she studied the building beside her. It was the great hall—the largest building in the town—spanning the width of three homes on the other side of the town’s wide main road. Two tall stories towered above her, the windows glazed over with moonlight.
She dug her hands into the mortared crevices between the stones, trying to hoist herself up. The chief difference between this and the climb up the waterfall two days ago that she now climbed alone, in the dark, up a wall clearly not made for climbing.
