“Maybe it’s the location. Since the Helixflow is underneath us, maybe it’s easier to get into the city? Through some crack, some secret passage?” offered Opal.
“No, the field permeates everything. It’s like a bubble,” Tirian said. “But somehow, she has access. It could be a magic talisman of some kind, an object smuggled in before the first attack, giving her the means to apport in and out. I don’t know what though. I’ve scanned everything I can think of that could store that kind of magic—I got nothing for the trouble.”
He thought for a moment and added, “Battling Amina head on would mean, in this case, guarding the Helixflow cave, which has an impossible number of Feratu coming after it. Without Jakob’s powerstone, it just ain’t gonna happen.”
“Yet that is exactly what is being planned. It’s crazy, don’t they know that?” Opal said.
“I agree, but the Council Prime says we need to trust in the Veil. And I understand that point—it’s what I’ve always been taught, and I guess it’s what I still believe,” said Tirian. “But I don’t think we can just sit and count on the Veil to save us. We have to do something. Trouble is—what do we do?”
Tirian pulled a small equatorium from his pocket and adjusted it nervously. Opal tried to adjust her attitude.
They both became fixated on the tree in the middle of the courtyard. The shine from the crystal blooms danced around the edges of the curved windowpanes. Opal’s window was like a great eye, and they were a part of its staring.
Opal thought about the Helixflow below—how the flow of magic twirled the limestone together so easily, like a giant pulling taffy. It had sat for eons and an age, until this moment, when this crazy, power-obsessed conjurer thought it best to destroy it.
After a long steady silence, a thought bloomed in Opal’s mind. “It’s not the Helixflow she’s after,” Opal said. “It’s the Crystal Tree!”
Tirian agreed, but he was so excited about the breakthrough he couldn’t speak. He stared at Opal taking in what she had said. Every wheel in his mind was spinning into a new, higher gear. “The tree! You are absolutely right!
“It was always the tree.” Opal was surer of this than anything.
“Amina wants us to fight over the cave. It would be the perfect trap. We storm in thinking we’re protecting the Veil’s power source, and those vampires will eat us one by one, till the last Warden is hung dead and dry. She knows we’ll do it too—fight to the death, thinking we’re saving the world.”
“You’re exactly right. We’d just be stirring hell with a long spoon, while she comes sauntering in the courtyard unchallenged. With everyone focused on the Helixflow, the tree would be easy pickings,” he said.
“That has to be why my mother made her last stand here in the courtyard. She was protecting the tree. She knew Amina was after it during The Battle of Fallmoon Gap.”
“And—see if this tells you something—the tree and this courtyard are the very heart of the cathedral. This whole structure was built up around it,” he said.
“To protect it!” added Opal. She was finally putting it together. Amina’s motivations had been so confusing. Yes, she wanted revenge, but this was about much more than that. Things were making sense now. And Tirian was right there with her putting the puzzle together just as fast.
“But the Council Prime has always insisted that the Helixflow is the power source. It must be the exact opposite. The tree created the Helixflow!” Tirian said. “The magic from the tree has leaked through these rock for ages. Its steady dripping created it, no different than any other normal cave formation. It makes perfect sense now. Why would the Protectorate ever leave the source of the Veil vulnerable?”
“They wouldn’t, no bones about it! It’s the perfect cover though,” Opal said. “If we can defend this courtyard, we’ve got a chance. My mother somehow stopped her with the Agama Stone. If we can get the necklace back, I can stop her again!”
Tirian was encouraged. “Amina has had us by the tail. But we may actually be one step ahead here, Opal, thanks to you! We may have just enough time to figure out how to fend her off.”
“So this is where we’ll make our stand. But we let her come this time. We let her think she can destroy the tree—that we’re set to attack the cave—then we turn the tables and take her down! We end her once and for all!”
“Opal, I want to kiss you right now,” Tirian yelled. He was immediately embarrassed he had said it.
She grabbed him and gave him a long hug. “Save it for later, big man. First, let’s see if we can stop Amina. Then, I promise you, you’ll be the first kissed.”
“Okay, let’s go map out a plan. Come on,” Tirian said. “We’re going to need some serious help!”
“How about help from an old friend,” said another voice. They turned to the door to see Luka. The mood went icy. Opal felt equal parts love and hate boil up inside her. She didn’t understand having both emotions simultaneously, but they were there, side-by-side, just like the Veil and the real world seemed to live in the same space and time.
“Are you crazy coming up here? Leave her be, Luka. She’s had enough of your mouth,” Tirian said, stepping between Opal and Luka.
“Your right, brother. And I’ve had enough of me too. I came to apologize, even though I know it might be too late,” Luka said. He walked over to Opal and took her hand, which she reluctantly let him hold.
“I was so wrong, Opal. I said terrible things, untrue things. I was out of my mind with anger and grief. But still, it’s no excuse. I should not have turned on you. You were only trying to comfort me.”
“A lot of what you said was true,” Opal admitted. “It was hard to hear, but I needed to hear it. I should have been there for you, and for Liberty Creek.”
“You did what you felt you had to do. We are all just trying to do our best,” said Luka.
“Well it’s not over yet, but I think we have a shot to settle it. On our terms this time, once and for all,” she said.
She gave Luka a hug. This time he hugged her back and didn’t let go.
Luka looked over Opal’s shoulder at Tirian.
“Let’s do it together!”
105
Luka, Tirian, and Opal raced down a set of spiral stairs into the belly of the cathedral.
Tirian’s shop was aglow with fantastic devices, power crystals, and quartz plums. Unknown chemicals boiled from the fire of tiny coal pots underneath. Potions bubbled through copper tubing like moonshine brewing in a miniature still. Schematic maps of the cathedral decorated the walls. A flock of clockwork dragonflies whizzed past in tight formation.
Fig Macallan was in a corner with two lower ranked sappers, debating the gauge of quartz to use for one of their broken defense systems, which steamed and sputtered at odd intervals. They waved to Tirian and his group as they passed.
“He’s waiting in there,” Fig said, pointing to the back of the workshop. “He brought some really fun toys too!”
Fig pointed to a man looking out onto a small terrace that opened up along the herb section of the cathedral gardens. The fragrance of lavender and rosemary wafted through the cracked doors, picking up the spicy odor of the man’s cigar smoke.
When he heard the group enter the room, he extinguished his cigar and turned to greet them. He removed his large hat and combed his fingers through his hair. His wavy mane was white and his mustache curled at the ends—a majestic looking, stout, and square-jawed man with a twinkle of playfulness in his eyes.
“Fine day, Tirian. Fine day to be here in Fallmoon Gap,” the man said.
“Yes sir. Thank you for making the trip all the way from Eureka,” replied Tirian. “Luka, Opal—this is High Warden Zawnders. He’s come to help me out with a special project.”
“No problem at all. Anything for my fellow Wardens. Just been puttering at my deer camp near the healing springs, but it always does the body good to get higher up in these hills,” he said.
“It’s a beautiful spot, sir, n
o doubt about that,” said Luka. He shook the man’s hand vigorously.
“So this is the young lady we’ve been discussing?”
“I hope in good terms, sir. I’m Opal Summerfield.”
Zawnder’s swept his hat to his heart and bowed to Opal.
“Yes, just as Tirian said, pretty as a bug’s ear,” Zawnders said. “But I understand you can’t shoot straight to save your life. Is that the dilemma, ma’am?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” laughed Luka. “I’ve tried every trick I know to teach her sir, but not much luck.”
Opal bumped Luka playfully with her hip. She gave the high Warden a twisted smirk and shrugged her shoulders.
“There is no hiding it, I’m no good with the bow. And I’m worse with the rifle.”
“Actually, Opal, High Warden Zawnders is one of the best marksmen in the whole of Arcania,” informed Tirian. “He knows all there is to know about firearms and magical armaments.”
“Well, the way I see it, Ms. Summerfield, everybody deserves a good chance at learning a thing. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t. With all due respect to your weapons trainer here, I may just, by my own nature and experience, have something new to offer. So, before we totally give up on you carrying a weapon, come see what we’ve been working on for you.”
Zawnders walked over to a table where several guns were laid out—mostly pistols of different shapes and fascinating sizes. “I took what I thought might work for you, and with a little help from Tirian’s shop, I customized some of these weapons,” he said.
He grabbed one particular pistol.
“For instance, this is a forty-four caliber dragoon with a detachable stock. You don’t get much more sturdy. You want to try this, little lady?” Zawnders handed her the pistol then moved behind her to pull the stock into the sweet spot of her shoulder. Opal took the full weight of it. She tried to aim it on her own, but could barely hold it steady. It was just too heavy for her.
“No? Okay, there is more.” Everyone advanced down the table. “How about this? Here y’all can see this is a forty-two caliber with a rifled barrel and a nine-shot cylinder—all of that is set over a sixteen-gauge shotgun barrel. Quite a fancy razorback stopper if you ask me. Perfect for close combat.”
Opal took it up with both hands. She had the uneasy feeling she would be eaten alive before she managed to fire a shot.
“Little too much for you? It does need to have the right feeling. I hear you tend to get up close and personal, that right? So you need something easy to manipulate. Okay, let’s look at this one here.”
He walked down the table and took up a smaller pistol. It looked like a toy in his large hands.
“Thirty-two caliber rimfire, called a ladies colt by many. It’s been converted to shoot hollow-base crystal bullets filled with my own secret concoction of fulminate and silver-laced black powder. This will tear the guts out of any magical malfeasant, no matter what dark power they’re slinging at you.”
Opal liked this one. It was small and fit in her hand nicely. She could imagine using it. It had a beautiful rosewood handle. She tried to cock the hammer with her thumb and could almost do it, but it snapped back and the gun fired accidentally.
The shot sent the men diving for cover. One of the legs of a nearby workbench shattered and the table and all its metal clutter spilled to the floor.
Opal just stood there, frozen, not knowing what to do. Zawnders crept up and gently removed the weapon from her hand. He patted her on the back in a comforting manner. Opal felt the blood rushing to her cheeks.
“You see, I know every darn weapon that’s been built by Veilians,” Zawnders said. If it shoots, I’ve fired it. Gunpowder and crystal shards flow through my veins.”
“But we all got our own way of walking in the woods, don’t we? Some of us are marksmen, some of us ain’t. Just the way it is. Best to be a great you, instead of a bad someone else.”
Zawnders put the thirty-two back in its case and buckled it closed.
“Now Ms. Opal, I’m a gunman. Your little friend Ellie who got banged up—she is a bow and spike gal. Mr. Luka here likes his rifles. I’ve heard from Tirian that you got your own peculiar preference. Am I right?”
“You mean my necklace? The Agama Stone?”
“No, young lady, I mean this,” Zawnders said. The high Warden pulled back a cotton cloth that covered his surprise.
“A SLINGSHOT!?” Opal laughed.
Luka raised an eyebrow. Tirian and Zawnders were beaming.
“Well go ahead girl, it’s been made just for you. I seen all the guns and rifles this side of the river. That’s no slingshot like any that’s been used in these parts. This is a weapon stands up to ‘em all,” he said. “Now careful, it’s not what you’re use to. We’ve been fixing this scientific.”
Opal yanked it off the workbench like it was a gift on Christmas morning. She studied it with delight. It fit her grip perfectly. It had a forearm brace to leverage the pull of the sling. She pulled back on it and could feel that the tension was excellent. She looked it over very carefully. Zawnders had even fixed a metal sight with a quartz magnifier between the forks.
“Test it out, girl. We ain’t here for a tea party. Here, take this powershot. Tirian told me how you improvised in Grigg’s Landing. I rigged these specific for you,” the high Warden said.
He handed her a small quartz ball about a half-inch in diameter. It was slightly warm and filled with magical light.
Opal aimed through the door at a nearby tree out in the herb garden. One limb hung out thick as a man’s leg. She targeted a knot a third of the way from the trunk and fired the shot. She hit it perfectly. The crystal exploded and the magic charge tore through the tree limb with a crack. The limb fell severed and burnt at one end.
Opal’s mouth was wide with wonder. She turned to her audience to see everyone except Zawnders in total shock.
“Now that’ll do, won’t it?” Zawnders asked.
“That’ll do,” she grinned.
The whole group moved in closer, admiring the weapon.
Zawnders tone turned a bit more serious. “Perfect for a witch-hunt, if I do say so myself!”
Opal looked up into the man’s eyes with a knowing smile.
“Absolutely perfect!”
106
Professor Jack Thomason’s pipe had gone dead. He knocked the burned tobacco out with the heel of his hand.
“I’m happy as a chicken in high oats. I can’t believe this beautiful creature has taken a liking to you!”
The snawfus stood nuzzling against Opal’s back, as if annoyed by her lack of attention. Jack walked over and gave the beast an apple, which it eagerly took. New blooms broke out on its antlers.
“We’re friends now. Seems he likes me even without the Agama Stone. I think we bonded,” She laughed. “But you know what is even more amazing? I can actually smell soap on you!”
“Told you, bath day is Saturday. You just need to come around at the right time.” He reached out and stroked the animal’s majestic antlers. “I have to do a new painting of this guy. He is extraordinary!”
“Jack, I’ve figured out some things. Your friend that hunts the wereboars—well I’m thinking that’s the man they call the Ranger. I realize now you’ve been helping him.”
She paused to let that sink in.
“I know who he really is.”
Jack snapped his head toward her. She had his attention.
“He’s my father, ain’t he?” she asked.
A relieved smile slowly curled up on his face.
“I don’t understand why everyone has been keeping this from me. But either way, I need you to help me find him—and help me find him quick!”
“That is music to my ears, Opal. I prayed this day would come, but it wasn’t my place to make it happen,” he said.
“Is he a bad man, Jack?”
“Stubborn beyond belief, but not bad. I think you need to hear my version of his story, because I know
there are a lot of other ones out there.”
Jack took Opal by the hand and they walked over to the fence line. They sat together on the railing and watched as the snawfus grazed beside them.
“Opal your father was—and still is, really, one of the best Wardens the Protectorate has ever had. I know that because I helped train him.
“He stood out from day one. He was very loyal to Jakob Prismore, and Jakob leaned on him heavily. Your father led a small squad of elite Wardens. They were the best of the best. His team was always assigned the most dangerous missions.
“During The Battle of Fallmoon Gap, at Jakob’s request, your father sent his men after a conjurer named Gemaea. Gemaea is a powerful witch, and she’s the one that schooled Amina in the black arts.
“Well, somehow, those men were ambushed. Amina, trying to impress her teacher, cursed the whole lot of them with a powerful kapranthropy spell. They were transformed into what we call wereboars. They lost all contact with their human selves,” Jack explained.”
“Unfortunately, I know all about those monsters,” said Opal.
“Yes, and Amina still controls them, even now,” he acknowledged. “Anyway, the men went mad, and when the witch wasn’t using them for her dirty work, they hunted this part of the wilderness killing everything they could.
“Your father and I discovered that a certain amount of pure silver could suppress the curse without killing the men. However, it’s not a permanent cure, and William’s former squad would have nothing to do with it. They’ve given themselves over to the curse and become more wereboar than human. Your father felt responsible for it all.
“While trying to help these men, he was put in an awful situation. He had to kill several of them when they attacked a couple named Mae and Rhodes Dooley. Of course, when the men were killed, the curse was instantly reversed. Their corpses showed no sign of it. It makes it a bit hard to explain why you’ve shot a man, when there is no trace of the thing you shot him for.
“The Protectorate—mainly Jakob Prismore—has been unrelenting in their pursuit of your father. They have branded him a coward and a criminal. In reality, he is none of those things.
Opal Summerfield and The Battle of Fallmoon Gap Page 30
