by Blair Drake
My mice have free reign of the palace. They are stealthy and smart. They can deliver small packages, messages, and notes. They go unnoticed for the most part. They are the ones who let me know when the ward energy is low. They can feel it. Down here, we can’t feel it. There is so much I want to tell you, but now is not the time. Tonight, when the wards are low, I can work a spell to disable the surveillance, and we can talk. Until then, keep quiet. Strix is aware of most of this already. He’s been able to move about the palace, but only once. He hasn’t been here long. Now get some rest, we’ll talk later.
Dylan wasn’t going to get any rest. His heart raced, and his mind worked to outpace his heart. He might get out of this place...if the king didn’t kill him first. He needed to ask one last question.
“Ma’am, do the king or his sister ever kill their prisoners?”
He could hear her soft sigh. “Get some rest, young man.”
Rest? He was going to be killed. How was he supposed to relax and get any rest?
Woli stirred and rolled over, her limp wings not moving to avoid being smashed. She rolled onto them and jump up with a loud yelp. “What? Ouch. Where am I?” Looking around, the realization came back to her. She knew exactly where they were.
“Hey,” Dylan said. “Come here for a minute.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.” Dylan showed her the paper, shining his phone light on it.
“I can’t read it. I require magic to change the words to something I can read,” Woli said.
“Shhhhh, they can see and hear everything,” Dylan whispered. “I’ll read it to you.”
Dylan got really close to her pointed ear and started reading. When he finished, he said, “Don’t respond. Just be cool.”
Woli nodded, her eyes wide and her face filled with hope.
He swiped and tapped at his phone to turn off the light. He didn’t want to use more of the battery than necessary. He may need it again later and wanted to conserve power. He tucked the phone back into his front pocket.
Dylan prayed Gaanne wasn’t playing them the way King Riata played them. He hoped she told telling the truth and there was a way out of this dungeon. Dylan put his finger to his lips when he thought Woli was going to speak.
“I’m going to take a nap. I’m exhausted,” Dylan said.
He wasn’t really tired, but he knew talking wouldn’t be smart. He stretched out on the floor and put his arms over his eyes as if he was trying to keep out the light even though there wasn’t much light in the shadows of his new cell.
Woli curled up next to him. “Dylan, I’m scared.”
He put his arm around her, and they lay quietly, Dylan listening to the sounds of the dungeon and Woli’s breathing.
“I’m scared, too,” he whispered after a while.
He didn’t expect to fall back to sleep, but he jolted off the floor when he felt something scurry onto his chest. “What? Oh crap.” He swiped at his shirt.
“Hey, watch out,” a small voice said.
Dylan looked down to see a white mouse hunkered on his crotch.
“Sorry, little dude. I didn’t know it was you.” Dylan picked up the mouse and held him in the palm of his hand.
Whoa, wait a minute, the mouse just spoke to him. A day ago he might have been surprised, but not so much now.
“The queen will talk to you now.”
Chapter 12
She’d been talking to him before. Dylan didn’t understand the formality until he looked up and saw the thin woman with almond eyes, a button nose, and thick, full lips of ruby red standing just outside the bars to his cell. Her skin was a soft pink reminding him of a baby.
“Dylan Streetman, or so I was told,” she said in a soothing voice that a psychiatrist might use.
Dylan stood. He didn’t know if he should bow, so he did slightly. “Yes, I’m Dylan.”
He kicked Woli lightly with his foot.
She grumbled and looked up at him. “What?”
He whispered, “Get up. We have company.”
Woli looked to where Dylan was staring, then jumped to her feet. She swayed a little as if she were off balance or dizzy. She might be. He was hungry, so she must be, too.
“Who are you?” Woli asked as she straightened her tutu.
“I’m Queen Gaanne, and you are?” she said in the same soothing tone.
Woli curtsied. “I’m Woli Gallirag, a pixy from Craydusk.”
The queen bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement. “It’s nice to meet you both. I rarely have company down here. And when I do, they don’t stay long.”
“Do you always talk to them? Stand at their cells?” Dylan asked.
“Never. I’m only out of my cell because it’s the weakest hour, and I can use my magic to roam. I rarely leave the dungeon because the wrath of Portencia is harsh. I don’t want them to know there’s a flaw in their wards.”
“Their wards? I thought the wards were put up by you?” Woli said.
“Yes, I’ve heard all sorts of stories over the years. I’m a horrible and deceitful queen who forbids magic, and I kicked my king from the palace. There are at least a hundred versions of how weak I am and how I hate magic.”
Dylan listened to the petticoats of her hoop skirts as she moved closer to the bars. She dressed in the same style as Portencia, only her dress was a pale aqua with ivory trim and much fancier than Portencia’s. On her head, he could see she had platinum hair pulled back with her filigree crown fitted over it.
She wore pearl earrings, which she reached up and fiddled with every few minutes.
“You don’t hate magic? Then why the wards?” Woli moved closer to the bars.
“Not my wards. Portencia cast that spell. No one forbade magic in the territory. It’s all a myth perpetuated and added to over the last two centuries.”
“Forgive me for saying so, but you look younger than me, and you’re the queen of Craydusk?” Dylan said.
She laughed, and it was as soothing as her voice. “I married young, my dear, but I assure you, I’m more than 200 years old. But enough about this and the past. We don’t have much time.” She looked behind her at the mice scurrying around. “Where is Strix?”
From the other side of the wall, Strix said, “I’m here.”
“Good,” she said. “We know Strix is well, a strix. Woli is a pixy. And Dylan, please quickly tell me about yourself in detail.”
“I’m from Gray Cliffs Academy. I was sent here because I guess I’m a mage, and I need to hone my skills and get my grimoire in order to get back to where I came from.”
She nodded slowly. “A mage uses elements to create magic. You don’t necessarily need your grimoire, but it will make you stronger. Do you have any specific skills? Something you may have inherited?”
Dylan nodded vigorously. “Yes, I’m a lippy and a chameleman.”
“And you’re well-practiced in these forms of magic, I assume?” She cocked her head.
Dylan shook his head and looked at the floor. “If I was, I wouldn’t be in here.”
“He tried to use his lippy skills to get in the palace and find a way to remove the wards. He thought he had the king under his enchantment, but the king made fools of us all,” Woli said, pulling at her wings.
“What did you say to get yourself here?”
Dylan relayed the story of the trolls, King Riata, scrying, and how he thought he suggested the king help them.
Queen Gaanne laughed. “As a lippy, you don’t make suggestions, you make commands. That was your first mistake. He knew what you were trying to do, and he likely set up a ward for himself.”
Woli came to the bars. “No, he didn’t have time. But you’re right, Dylan wasn’t telling him, he was asking him, but the king cut him off. We were stupid enough to believe Dylan made the king want to help us. He said some horrible things about you.”
Gaanne’s blue eyes drooped a little, then she opened them wide again. “So much to talk about and explain, but time is runni
ng out. Strix can morph to his owl form, Dylan, you can morph into almost anything, and tell people what they want to do. Woli, you’re a pixy, but do you have any special magic?”
Woli looked over her shoulder at her wings, that moved a bit in the last few minutes, almost coming to life. “I can do a lot with my dust, but I don’t have any with me. And I can shrink as small as one of your mice.”
“Aren’t you worried about your mice with Strix around? I heard he was caught with a dozen of them.” Dylan said.
Strix huffed. “I have more self-control than that, you fool. I’m here because Portly set me up. He took your book, so it has to be here in the palace.”
Gaanne put a long, thin finger to her lips and pressed against them. She closed her eyes, standing completely still for several moments. When she opened her eyes, she said, “What protections did Gray Cliffs send with you?”
“Protections? None. They didn’t even tell me this was going to happen. One minute I was on the roof of the school, then the next I was at the grand front doors. Only when I opened the door, I ended up here instead of inside the school.”
She put her hands on her hips. “They gave you something. They had to.”
Dylan reached into his pocket and pulled out the talisman. “I have my school pin.”
The pin glowed in his hand.
“Yes, this is exactly what I meant. That pin is your key out, but it’s also aware of where you are. It has a connection to your grimoire. This is good, very good. It helps our game plan.”
“So I should protect it?” Dylan said.
“Yes, but it would be nearly impossible for an enemy to get it from you. It’s connected to you, like a special crystal.”
Gaanne looked around, her eyes darting, and her movements jerky. “No more time. The cameras will come back on in only a minute or so. We wasted too much time. The soldiers will be in soon.”
“But my world is in trouble, and the king doesn’t care. I need to get out of here,” Dylan called after her as she walked back toward her cell.
“Tomorrow. I will work out a plan over the next day, and we will have a plan tomorrow.” She stepped through the bars of her cell as if she were an apparition, then disappeared into the shadows.
Woli leaned into the bars without touching them. “Was that real or only my imagination?”
The mouse scratched at her leg and tried to speak, but only a squeak came out. The magic was gone, the wards now at full strength. The mouse looked at Woli and nodded.
She was real.
Dylan heard a door creak open briefly before slamming shut. He heard purring, then hissing. The queen’s mouse scurried up his pant leg, and he moved to the back of the cell, into the shadows the way Gaanne had.
Three soldiers walked down the hall, and as they walked, the lights grew brighter, taking away the shadows. They could see everything. Dylan slid to the floor, to sit on the paper the queen sent earlier. Surely the cats would see it and know something was wrong.
As they passed his cell, the lights dimmed again.
Standing directly in front of the queen’s cell, the largest soldier purred loud enough to rattle Dylan’s insides.
“Your Royal Highness, I trust your new dungeon mates are being humble and respectful,” he growled.
Queen Gaanne stepped forward from the back of her cell, since there were no longer shadows to hide her. “Yes, Pumba, they are. Very quiet, though. I think they are terrified and don’t know what’s going to happen.”
The soldier lifted his paw to his mouth and licked the back of it. “They’ll be gone soon enough, and it won’t be your issue...not that it is now.”
“It’s never my issue Pumba, you silly cat. But I do worry about the prisoners who come and go. You know that.” She reached out and stroked his arm.
Pumba tilted his head down and closed his eyes. He whispered something Dylan couldn’t hear.
Now Dylan wasn’t so sure about this queen. She seemed as devious as the king. And what did the cat say to her? She leaned closer to him and answered back, but Dylan couldn’t see her lips to see what she said. He wanted to get up and pace his cell, but didn’t dare move or try to pick up the paper and fold it into his pocket.
Pumba left the queen’s cell and came back to Dylan’s. “I trust you’re settling in. You look upset. Why is that?”
Dylan tried for stoic, but his voice cracked. “Just hungry, I guess.”
Pumba turned to the other cats, who immediately scurried away.
“We can’t have you wasting away on us. Felix will be back with some soup.” He turned and walked away.
Dylan stared at the space where the cat stood. This wasn’t one of the cats who brought them here. Dylan wondered if this cat-soldier held more authority. He sure seemed chummy with the queen.
He started to call out to her when he heard the door open again. Felix slid two bowls, two large spoons, and a plastic bag through the bars. “Eat.” He turned and left, slamming the door behind him.
Dylan crawled forward and placed the bowls flat on the floor, then opened the plastic bag. The soup smelled delicious, like chicken noodle, and that’s what Dylan would pretend it was as he carefully poured the soup into each bowl. He put one of the spoons in the bowl of soup and handed it to Woli, then he put the spoon in his own bowl, mixing the soup a little, then taking a small taste test. Yum, it was chicken noodle, or tasted like it anyway. He’d love to have a sleeve of saltines to go with it, but he tried to be happy the soup was edible.
As he shoved spoonfuls of the soup into his mouth, he thought of so many things he wanted to ask the queen. But if they were being watched, what could he say that wouldn’t put them in a worse position? The queen was so nice, he didn’t want to cause her harm.
If all they had was twenty minutes a day to make their plans and get the heck out of Craydusk, he’d be here until he was the queen’s age, or at least as old as Woli.
It was late, but he napped so long he wasn’t tired. His mind kept turning faster than he could keep up. He put the empty plastic bag into his empty soup bowl along with his spoon, and left it near the bars.
He thought about all the things his parents hadn’t told him, and mulled over why theykept it a secret. And Gray Cliffs: shouldn’t they warn the students about what would happen to them? Maybe that was the plan, but the darkness engulfed them and made it impossible for the headmaster to warn them in advance. At least he hoped that was the reason. He hated to think they were sent on this mission with no help or purpose.
And the boys he overheard in the bathroom, and the things he saw and heard in the closed wings of the school, why couldn’t he remember the details? It was clear as a spring day when he was listening, but when he resumed his human form, it was clear as acne-filled skin.
The thoughts of his parents, the school, Craydusk, and the queen swirled in his head as he tried to turn off his mind.
Sometime in the night, sleep found him because the next thing he heard was the king’s horrible voice.
Chapter 13
As comfortable as he was on the ground, he wondered if he should stand for the king. Screw that. The jerk imprisoned them in this basement, or dungeon, or whatever they called it. He was behind bars, and he did nothing to deserve it.
As with the soldiers, the lights grew brighter as the king came closer. When he was right in front of Dylan’s cell, the light was almost blinding.
“Where are your manners? Stand up and bow before me,” King Riata shouted.
“Suck it,” Dylan said.
“Be nice. You want to stay here at least until tonight. What if he takes you?” Woli whispered.
Woli stretched and stepped up to the bars. She gave a slight curtsey.
“You need to teach your pal some manners.” The king slammed his hands against the cell door.
“Pumba, come get this insolent little boy.” King Riata snapped his fingers.
Gaanne came to the front of her cell. “Dear husband, please leave the boy alon
e. He’s not used to this world. He doesn’t have a king and queen to serve.”
King Riata stalked over to Gaanne’s cell. “If I want your opinion, I’ll tell you what it is.”
Gaanne stepped back a step, but her voice was still defiant. “Stop being a bully. He’s just a boy. Just like you. Only you’re a man who never grew up. You’re the insolent boy who can’t accept that he isn’t the be all, end all.”
King Riata looked over his shoulder to see who was watching and listening, then turned back to his queen. “Shut up.”
“Or what? This is the worst you can do to me, and you know it. You don’t scare me, you big bully. You and your sister are a black stain on this territory. And to think I was so in love with you I couldn’t see your horrible ways.” Dylan saw a grin spread across Gaanne’s face. It was clear she had no respect or fear when it came to the king.
“What if he hurts her?” Woli said.
Just then, King Riata reached into Gaanne’s cell. She didn’t step back. She didn’t move. The sharp sound of thunder echoed in the room, and there was a blinding flash. Before his sight came back, Dylan heard Gaanne’s sweet laughter.
“You foolish boy,” she said. “That magic can never be stopped. You’ll never touch me again. Not as long as you and your sister live. No one will ever touch me again, thanks to you. And as long as it keeps you at bay, I’m happy with it.”
“You’re a cruel mistress,” the king stepped back, holding his hand.
“You’re the cruel one. What a horrible childhood you surely had for you to treat your people so horribly.”
King Riata turned. “We’re not having this discussion again. I’ve already heard it a thousand times.”
Pumba stood just at the door to Dylan’s cell. He was awaiting his orders.
“Take him!” King Riata stormed past them and out the door.
Pumba unlocked the cell and opened the door. Dylan scrambled backward, out of Pumba’s reach.
“Don’t make this any harder on yourself,” Pumba said.
Dylan heard Gaanne say, “Go with him. He’ll need you.”
