by Martha Carr
“An Atlantean…” gasped the Light Elf.
“Half Atlantean, actually but thank you. We’ve never been formally introduced. My name is Rhazdon, you may have heard of me.”
The Light Elf stumbled backward, catching himself as the Kilomea pulled out the knife he always kept in his boot, despite the prophets’ rules.
“You can’t be! Rhazdon died centuries ago.”
“And was a man!”
“Rumors of my gender were greatly exaggerated. And as you can see, I’m very much alive.” She slipped into the Gnome’s old robe, hanging loosely off her shoulders but barely covering all the necessary parts. “Thank you for this. I was wondering when it would be the right moment but you found it for me. The necklace may have slipped from my fingers, momentarily and my new following has had some setbacks but no bother. I’ve had just enough wins to still be ahead.”
“I don’t believe it.” The Pixie flew a little closer but retreated just as fast.
Rhazdon pointed at the Light Elf. “You’re with the royal court, are you not?” Rhazdon smiled, her eyes cold and menacing. “You never told the public what happened to the king’s father during that last, great battle.” She spit out the last words slowly. “You said he died in combat, killing me. Not true. Liar, liar.” She waved a finger in the air. “How many years has he been trapped in the world in between?” Rhazdon smiled, satisfied as the Light Elf gasped.
“Is it true?” asked the Crystal prophet. The Light Elf sunk into a chair and nodded, the color draining from his face.
“You see? But no one ever knew I was a female. Dark magic can do so many things in the right hands. Of course, in your cases I never had to use it. Good old fashioned suggestions that fed your egos worked just fine.”
“How can you still be alive and look so…”
“Young? Rumors of my power were not exaggerated. I’m a very clever girl.”
“You were the one that broke into the vault!”
“Now you’re catching on. The bitch is back and she has her playthings. Careful, careful boys and girls. I have more than dark magic in my hands now. I have all your secrets. What would Queen Saria do if she knew you were the ones who let Bill Somers into the castle and set all of this into motion. I thought so. You have very convenient integrity. At least everyone always knew what I stood for and what I was willing to do. Don’t worry, I’ll burn this thing when I’m done with it.” She wrapped the robe tighter around her curves.
The tentacles on her head wrapped themselves into a loose braid down her back. “Thanks for everything. I could have done all this without you but it would have taken more planning.” Rhazdon laughed and waved her arm, opening the door to the main hallway and strutting down the middle of the post office, holding up her chin and giving a cool smile to anyone who stole glances in her direction.
The gargoyles flying overhead let out screeches and flew higher, sensing the dark magic as she passed by the mailboxes. Rhazdon threw up her arms, opening all the boxes sending the mail fluttering through the air in a rain of letters.
She stopped at the door and turned around, smiling. “Tell everyone who cares to know, Rhazdon is alive and well.” She flung open her robe and stood there with her hands on her hips. “That’s right… not a man.” She said the words slowly and evenly.
“She’s beautiful,” whispered a Light Elf. “Perfection.”
“That is some bold move!”
“Rhazdon is dead. It’s been eight hundred years!”
“To look that good… it would take the darkest kind of magic…”
“Is she the one who broke into the library and killed that Gnome?”
“What’s she doing with a prophet’s robe?”
She laughed as some looked away while others stood there with their mouths hanging open.
Rhazdon closed the robe again, turned and marched out of the post office, dark magic radiating off her as her bare feet hardly touched the ground. She reached the edge of the forest, turned and waved at the few people brave enough to follow behind her from a distance. Once she was within the treeline she cast a spell she had found in one of her old books.
“Feels good to break out an old favorite.” The spell left behind no trace for anyone who dared follow her all the way home to the cabin deep in the Dark Forest.
***
The Light Elf yelled, “Altrea Extendia,” as bronze sparks flew and a staircase appeared. He took the stairs two at a time, yelling “Altrea Extendia,” again, running up the next flight of stairs as fast as he could. He did it over and over again until he reached the royal family’s floor and ran, searching from room to room until he could hear the queen singing at the end of a long hall.
He found Queen Saria standing in a large room singing to her plants. Her voice was a rich alto that carried easily.
“Why are you out of breath? What’s happened?”
“Queen Saria…” he panted, trying to catch his breath. “I…I…”
“Say it!” she hissed as the plants drew away from her, irritating her more.
“Rhazdon lives.”
“I know already.” She let out an annoyed sigh. “There are new followers picking up where Rhazdon left off. Ridiculous empty-headed fools.”
“No, your Highness.” The Light Elf gulped in air. “Rhazdon is alive. The Atlantean. But he’s not a he, he’s a she. She lives!”
The Queen wrinkled her forehead and narrowed her eyes. “Who said this? Who’s spreading this lie?” More trouble in the kingdom. It only gets worse.
The Light Elf sputtered trying to explain. “There…I mean…I saw…lots of us! She walked through the post office! Letters flying everywhere! Took off her robe and no clothes! No clothes! Announced she was Rhazdon! The gargoyles screeching overhead!” The Light Elf was waving his arms around while telling the stories in bits and pieces. The queen grew more thoughtful, piecing it all together.
“The prophets… and then she disappeared into the woods! Poof! No one could see her!”
“Go back…”
“She disappeared into the woods!”
“Right before those words.”
“The prophets?”
“What do they have to do with Rhazdon?” The queen turned over the bits of information, each one helping to fill in a hole in a bigger picture. Is this who I’ve been looking for?
“She was wearing an ill-fitting prophet’s robe. Walked right out in it. The prophets, well they, I don’t know, left by a back door. No one’s seen any of them. Ran home I guess.”
“Did anyone check to see if there was a dead prophet left behind?” She put out her arm, sending a calming strand of energy through the Light Elf. His breathing slowed down and he gathered his wits.
“Ossonia ran back there. I didn’t even know there was a room back there. I followed her but we didn’t find anything. The room was empty except for an old ledger. Everyone was gone. Nothing was out of place.”
Allies of some kind… “I see. Does the King know yet?”
“I ran straight to you. It just happened!”
“Find the King and tell him the same story. Tell him where he can find me.”
The Light Elf gave a small bow. “Your majesty.” He ran out of the room yelling “Altrea Extendia!” as bronze sparks shot out at the end of the hallway with stairs leading back down a floor.
A thin stem of anger grew inside the queen’s heart, spinning itself through her veins as she began to wonder if she had the answer to the one question that bothered her most.
Deep, dark red seeped into the fragrant white flowers on her crown till they were blood red, shimmering against her silver crown. Her jaw set as she clenched her fists.
The prophets are powerful enough to get an inept human in and out of the castle without anyone seeing them. They would never… The inane prophesies! An archaeologist… That stunt they pulled on Earth. It all fits. Her eyes shined with tears as she dug her nails into her palms. “Foolish idiots!”
The rows of p
lants in front of her shrunk from the sound of her rage. “I need someone I can trust! An ally of my own.”
The King came into the room, his eyes wide. It was too late, the queen’s mind was made up already. “I’m going to Earth to seek out Leira Berens. We need to hurry our plans along.” She bit out every word.
“Why not the Silver Griffins?”
“I need someone I can trust. I may not always like her or her lack of manners but I trust her. Right now, that’s more valuable than anything else I can think of.” She turned and shook her head, the pain that was starting to fade was back in her voice. “You understand what this means.”
“We don’t even know if the stories are true. They seem farfetched. Rhazdon!”
“Did you hear about the gargoyles? Nothing fazes them. Nothing! It takes so much dark magic for them to fly higher, away from the trouble.”
Her eyes grew wider as she ran out of the room and down the hall to the library. The king chased after her.
She stopped just short of the stacks as some of the Gnomes looked up in curiosity. A poppy on a nearby bowler opened and shut.
The queen turned back to her husband. “Rhazdon. It’s true. A woman, not a man. She can change her physical structure and hold the spell for centuries! Who else possesses that knowledge and can let that much darkness pass through them without being consumed by it? She stole back her books and her artifacts! She’s been gathering followers on here and on Earth!” The queen beat against the king’s chest, a wail ripped out of her throat. “She helped kill my son!”
The king let her pound on his chest till she wore herself out, weeping in his arms. Grief has no ending. “And condemned my father to the world in between,” he said softly.
The queen lifted her head. “That bitch has to die once and for all. I’m going to Earth to ask Leira for help and to end this before we’re defending all of Oriceran against that damned changeling!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Leira parked the Mustang at the top of the long driveway on the side of Turner Underwood’s large house and jumped out, carrying the artifact still wrapped in a cloth. She was following the slate path to the back, halfway around the house before Correk caught up with her.
“We don’t even know if he’s home.” Correk carefully stepped over a garden gnome with a little red hat. He shook his head. “Turner has the strangest sense of humor. I suppose it’s what happens when you hang around on Earth for hundreds of years.”
“I sent out a stream of magic to check. He’s here.”
“That’s a little invasive, using your magic like a tracking device.”
“He didn’t shove back. I only asked as my intention. We think Rhazdon is alive and well. The Jersey Willen saw that prophet trading with humans through a portal. It all adds up. You know that’s Rhazdon. We have to find him! There’s no time to get on people’s schedules.” Her words came out in a rush.
“Leira! Thanks for the heads up. Gave me a chance to dress for the occasion.” Turner Underwood was standing in the middle of his patio leaning on his cane, an unlit cigar in his mouth, wearing a coat and tie. His idea of casual. “I take it your trip home was successful and you found the prized artifact.”
Leira stopped short. “Home.” She said the word with awe in her voice. It was the first time she took it in. She shook her head. “No time for that. We need to try again and see if I can reach the cabin in Oriceran with the energy stream. Find out if our suspicions are true.”
“Right to the point. I like that about you, kid.”
There was a loud pop and a blue ball of light rolled across the lawn, changing direction as it sought out Correk, stopping at his feet and dissolving into the ground.
“What was that?” Leira peered more closely at the ground but there were no remnants.
“Another way of locating someone. In our world there’s hundreds of little tricks like that. It looks like the royal family is looking for you, Correk.” Turner pursed his lips. This is not good. “And they found you.”
He held his finger up in the wind. “Incoming,” he said calmly as a shimmer of sparks appeared and a portal opened up on his lawn. “Busy day for me. Your Majesty, my Queen, what an honor. Your Highness, my King, pleased to see you. You are welcome guests!”
Correk quickly went to the portal and held out his hand for the queen, helping her onto the lawn. “My queen.”
“Turner Underwood! Perfect.” There was a strain to the queen’s voice “I’m glad you’re here. I need your counsel as well.”
The king nodded but said nothing. He knew enough about his wife after hundreds of years of living side by side that she wasn’t going to waste any time. Not over this.
“Rhazdon is alive and has made her presence known in a very public way. Alive and a woman…” The queen stopped short, watching the trio.
Leira’s eyes widened and Correk arched an eyebrow as Turner let out a heavy sigh and chewed on his cigar.
The queen’s eyes narrowed. “You already knew. All of you.” She held back her sudden flash of anger, waiting for an explanation.
“Not for certain, and definitely not a woman.” Correk bit his bottom lip. “We were just about to attempt to prove it. Once we had the proof, you were our next stop.”
The queen looked weary. “So much intrigue for one day. I long for rigorous honesty.”
Leira bristled, pulling her mouth into a thin line.
The queen turned and looked out over the lake. “Such a beautiful spot, Turner. Sometimes I wonder what Earth would be like…but it doesn’t last.” She turned and looked at Leira. “Oriceran is home and an old threat has come back. I need your help.”
“Whatever you need.” Correk bowed before his queen.
“I’m sure you will play an important role but it’s not your allegiance I need at the moment. It’s yours, Leira. You possess magical talents not seen for a long time.”
“Since Rhazdon, you mean.” Leira was solemn.
“As a matter of fact, yes but fortunately on the side of the light and in service to others.”
Turner raised his hand in the air, interrupting the queen. “If I may, there is a unique difference here. Rhazdon learned how to manipulate magic to her own will. Granted, she has the ability to sustain the poisonous effects of dark magic like no one we’ve ever seen before. But Leira is able to match that ability by following the flow of energy, not getting in front of it and wrestling it to do her bidding.”
“May be able to…” The queen gave Leira a pointed look. “Not a criticism, only a necessary observation. Rhazdon is battle tested with her magic and clearly is capable of great deception and manipulation. She was able to sustain youth over hundreds of years, even change her physical structure.”
“And fool the prophets into doing her bidding.” The king grimaced, rubbing his chin.
“She was disguised as the Gnome prophet, wasn’t she?” The prophets plotted to kill your son. I should have told them. Not tried to spare them from more suffering. Correk grimaced and momentarily looked away. It will have to wait. “It explains the connection to the Dark Market. It also means there’s a Gnome buried somewhere between here and their mountain homes. Someone should send word to the real Gnome’s people.”
“That was something we didn’t know. We still don’t know how far Rhazdon’s plans have crept into our world… or yours.”
“Rhazdon is also after the necklace, I’m sure of it and I think I know why.” Leira stood with her hands on her hips feeling a swirl of emotions, willing herself to focus, remember her old training as a cop.
Facts are what matter. Look at the data. “Rhazdon has been working to build a new following on both worlds, to connect the two. That necklace is very powerful. Maybe powerful enough to open a sustainable portal. Like a gate but maybe not as stable. Still, enough to connect our worlds early. On her timetable. We have one more bit of information to add to all of this. We stopped a very powerful Wizard from stealing another artifact and we have good i
nformation that the Wizard was looking for a booster.”
“For the necklace. Of course.” The queen raised a fist in the air. “She’s building an army on Oriceran and a following on Earth. She’s working to turn the two sides against each other and fight her battle for her. The Oricerans are taught her betrayal and will fight against her but the humans on Earth will get a dose of her ability to save the day, even if she’s the cause of the wreckage. Revenge and victory in one neat package. Wickedly twisted.”
“Magical marketing, fuck me,” Leira said in amazement. “We need to find that necklace and stop her from gaining momentum on Earth. Expose what the bitch is really about. I can start that ball rolling from within the bureaucracy. Controlling the message will be more powerful than magic.” The general will help get the word out.
“I need the necklace back in our family and to see Rhazdon pay.” The king said it quietly, with bitterness in his voice. “I’ve failed to rule my kingdom well. Dark magic has its hand on our throat and it’s been there for centuries, spreading like a weed.” He looked up, determined. “Too many people in my family have suffered at this bitch’s hands. I will give my life before I let it be anyone else. Leira, you are part Light Elf, which makes you part of this family. Will you stand with us? Will you fight alongside us and rid this world of this vile creature?”
“My home is in Austin, Texas in the United States of America on planet Earth.”
The queen shook her head angrily. “You turn your back on us…”
“You jump to a lot of conclusions.” Leira raised her eyebrows and lowered her chin. “We will fight alongside each other a lot better if you learn to wait till I finish a goddamned sentence. I will fight but I want this understood. I fight for my first home and I do it as an equal, a peer. I serve no other government, no monarchy and I will not stop till Rhazdon is put down. For good this time. The bitch has it coming and then some. You want honesty, that’s mine. Don’t question it again or we part ways and I find my own allies.”
