Spellweaver

by Tamara Grantham

  We approached the shore, and I noted strange trees growing beyond the beach. Their large, heart-shaped leaves were emerald on one side and red underneath. Pink, diamond-shaped fruit hung like Japanese lanterns from the sprawling limbs. Our boat wobbled slightly as we reached the beach and scraped over the sand. A crewman jumped out and pulled us onto shore.

  With an overwhelming sense of relief, I climbed free of the boat. Although I was soaking wet and my damp clothes stuck to my skin making my shivering uncontrollable, at least I’d made it out of the ocean.

  Hoots and unfamiliar howls came from the jungle. I trudged up the shore, watching as the tree limbs rustled. The sketches of the creatures from the princess’s maps came to mind as I scanned the tree line.

  Some of the crewmen set up a makeshift camp near the forest’s edge, slinging tarps over tree limbs. Someone started a fire. The thick white smoke coiled into the air.

  I somehow made my way to the fire. The cold, coupled with my exhaustion, made it hard for me to concentrate, but I managed to remove my wet shoes.

  Someone handed me a buckskin blanket. I didn’t ask where it came from as I stripped down to my underwear and huddled beneath the soft animal hide. Soon my shivering stopped, and the events of the past few hours played through my mind. The captain… was he the goblin? The sea serpent. The ship sinking. But one thought overrode all others—where was Kull?

  Brodnik and Rolf found me by the fire. They asked about my health, but with my brusque answers, I think they understood I wasn’t interested in talking. Brodnik’s red mustache twitched as he scanned the island. His eyes widened with every unfamiliar sound. Rolf seemed calmer than his companion, but I wondered if he were only putting on a brave face.

  I rubbed my arms. Despite the heat, goose bumps prickled my skin. Something felt strange about this place. It was a sense of foreboding, and if I thought about it for too long, I was sure my anxiety would overwhelm me. So, I ignored the feeling and instead focused on the bright flames as they consumed the wood in front of me, warming me with their nearness.

  The jungle trees rustled behind us.

  “What was that?” Rolf asked, his voice hushed.

  The tree limbs creaked again. Rolf found a sturdy stick as a shadowy figure moved from the trees, but as the person moved into the sunlight, Rolf dropped the stick and intercepted him—King Herrick.

  Blood dripped from the king’s nose. He staggered toward us, and Brodnik and Rolf helped him sit by the fire. His faded blue eyes looked haunted in the flame’s light, and he didn’t speak for several minutes. Finally, he seemed to focus and turned his gaze on his two men.

  “Weapons,” he said. “Have you found our weapons?”

  Weapons. Of course. Because the first things you needed when landing on a deserted island without shelter, food, or water, were—logically—weapons.

  “I’ve not found any of our supplies. However, if we wait, I am sure they will start to wash ashore.”

  “Let’s hope we find them soon. What of the others—have you seen my son or daughter?”

  “No,” Brodnik answered.

  An uneasy silence settled over our makeshift camp. I didn’t want to ponder the enormity of our situation. That not everyone had survived was common sense, but I dared not contemplate that, either.

  When the fire had died down to a bed of red-hot coals, King Herrick and his two men walked to the shore in search of weapons.

  After my clothes had dried, I dressed and joined them on the beach. A small group of people had gathered. They talked in hushed voices as they stood huddled around something. As I approached, I realized they were standing around a dead creature. It had a humanoid head and shoulders, although it had six long, crablike legs that extended from a crustacean’s body. Alternating shades of blue and red colored its shell, and the head and shoulders were covered in shimmering golden scales. With its flowing emerald hair and softened facial features, I could tell the creature had been female.

  “Look there,” Rolf pointed to several dark gashes that ran the length of the creature’s torso. “What do you think caused wounds such as this?”

  Brodnik crouched next to the creature. “Sea serpent, perhaps?”

  “If that is so,” one of the Wults said, “then this does not bode well for our companions lost at sea.”

  “No,” King Herrick said. “We must spread out and search the beach for any survivors—and we must discover our weapons. Regroup here before nightfall. Do not take any chances; the creatures here are unlike any we are familiar with.”

  “Yes,” an elf said. A thin man with platinum-blond hair, he stared with apprehension into the dark forest. “I do not like the feeling of this place. There is strange magic here. Those who are lost must be found, or else I fear they will not survive the night.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I followed Rolf and Brodnik down the beach. The surf crashed violently alongside us. Offshore, the turquoise waves towered, and I was thankful to be on dry land.

  I tried to ignore the panicky feeling that wanted to rise up and take control of my thoughts.

  We’ll find the others. They’re okay. Everything’s okay.

  But my calming thoughts only reminded me of our situation and served to make matters worse.

  We found a spot off the beach filled with a forest of towering flowers. They looked like bellflowers, a species found on Earth—albeit these were much larger. The bell-shaped, lavender petals fluttered gently in the sea breeze. We were hiking through the flower forest when something caught my attention. As I peered into one of the domes, I found a fairy home, complete with a tiny acorn kettle in the kitchen, beds made of dandelion down, and a rainbow suncatcher hanging in the entryway.

  I moved from one home to the next, peering inside each one, but as I circled the glade, worry nagged at me.

  “Where are the fairies?” I asked.

  “Has the magic affected them?” Rolf asked.

  “I’m sure it has, but they couldn’t possibly all be dead, could they?”

  “Oi!” Brodnik called from the center of the glade. “Over here!”

  We followed the sound of his voice until we found him standing in the center of the flower forest.

  I stopped, shocked at the gory scene that lay before me.

  Dead fairies lay in a heap on the trampled ground. Their chests had been ripped open. In horror, I realized their hearts had been removed. My stomach sickened, and I stumbled back into the flower forest.

  Rolf and Brodnik inspected the scene closer, but I stayed away and instead reentered the flower forest, trying to keep from heaving. Sweat broke out over my skin. Dizziness overtook me, and I collapsed to the ground before I fell.

  The death of any fae creature was a tragedy, but fellow magic users felt the loss acutely. It was a deep, raw pain that tore at the soul. The feeling was hard to describe—it was an emptiness, a rawness that felt as if it would never heal. Tears misted my eyes, and I gulped in deep breaths to keep my composure. I’d been trained to help others deal with loss, but in medical school, they didn’t teach classes on coping with the loss of magical creatures.

  Fairies were arguably the most magical creatures on the planet, and they only ever used their magic for healing or nature spells. I’d never in all my life heard of fairies dying in such a sadistic manner.

  I shut my eyes tight, trying to get the horrific image out of my head.

  Rolf and Brodnik returned. They stood several feet away from me, looking at me with guarded eyes. Neither of them thought to offer any encouraging words, but I didn’t expect them to. If Kull were here, he’d know what to say. He’d know how to fill that awful, empty void growing like a cancer in the pit of my stomach.

  Kull, where are you?

  “They didn’t die a natural death,” Brodnik said, “although I suppose that’s obvious. There is an evil at work on this island. I fear that if we do not leave soon, we may become part of the slaughter. We must make haste back to camp immediately.”r />
  “Can I help you stand?” Rolf asked me.

  I shook my head. “There’s no need,” I answered and limped upright.

  As we made our way back to the beach, the quietness of the forest was overwhelming. There were no crickets or birds, no sounds at all except for our own footsteps.

  We stepped onto the beach once again.

  Someone walked toward us.

  Focusing, I realized it was my father wandering along the shore. As he drew closer, I noticed his shoes were missing and his clothing was torn. The blank, hollow stare in his eyes made me run to him. Rolf and Brodnik followed.

  “Olive,” my father said as his haunted eyes met mine. “Your mother,” he whispered hoarsely, “she’s here.”

  “What?”

  He gasped for air. “Help me!” he said right before he collapsed.

  “Father!” I knelt beside my dad as he lay in a heap on the beach. He stared overhead with wide eyes. His lips were cracked, and dark blood was drying on his hands and face. I almost didn’t recognize him.

  Rolf and Brodnik knelt beside me.

  “Kasandra.” Father said my mom’s name in a hushed whisper. “She was here. I saw her.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I—I don’t know.” He rubbed his forehead where I noticed a small gash. “Please, help me.”

  “Let’s get him to the camp,” Brodnik said.

  The two men took my father between them and carried him down the beach until we spotted the fire. Someone had stoked the wood, and the flames burned large and bright once again. I found a blanket and spread it out over the sand. The two Wults placed my father on the blanket. Rolf pulled off his canteen and offered it to my father, who took a small sip.

  I inspected my father’s head wound. It wasn’t a large gash, but it looked deep, like a puncture from a blade or claw. I used my handkerchief and some of the canteen’s water to clean the cut. Luckily, it had stopped bleeding.

  “How did you get this?” I asked him.

  He shook his head.

  “Father,” I repeated, “how did you get it?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he motioned for the canteen. After a few more sips of water, he seemed to focus. “In the forest,” he finally answered. “I thought I saw your mother. She led me deep into the jungle. I tripped and cut my head on one of those cursed thorns. I blacked out after that. I don’t remember coming back to the beach.”

  “But how is that possible? How could you have seen Mom here?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t understand it. But I do know that I saw her.”

  “Did you speak to her?”

  “I tried to. She never answered me.” He turned away, and his voice grew quiet. “She hasn’t changed, has she?”

  I squeezed his hand. Everything about this situation was weird. “No, she hasn’t changed. Most people think we’re sisters.”

  He nodded. “I think I should rest now.”

  “Yes, I agree.”

  I tried to stand when he caught my hand. “If you see her, please tell me.”

  “I will.”

  He nodded, seeming satisfied, and closed his eyes.

  I didn’t understand how my mom could be on this island. She had no way of traveling here. And how would she have found it in the first place? It made no sense.

  It did, however, make sense that he was being afflicted with the same hallucinations that Kull and Ket had experienced while on the ship. For my father to be having such vivid hallucinations now meant the magical malady was growing more potent.

  This wasn’t good. Everything about this island gave me the creeps. The quicker we could find where to put the bloom, the better.

  I had to find a way to get to Verutith, assuming there was a way.

  By the time evening arrived, we’d managed to construct several shelters made from the ship’s canvas tarps and ropes. It was a humble situation and certainly wouldn’t protect us from whatever was out there, but it was better than nothing.

  The sun set. Shades of coral and lavender streaked across the sky, and the heat cooled as day turned to night. Several bonfires had been lit, and their flames reflected off the sparkling grains of sand.

  I sat beside the bonfire on a log near my father. Some of the crewmen had managed to find their fishing gear and a few other supplies washed up on the beach. They’d pulled in a net-full of fish, which now sat in fat lumps that sizzled over the flames. The fire warmed my outstretched hands, and my stomach growled as the scent of cooked meat filled the air. When it was ready, I pulled off two pieces. I arranged them on metal plates, then handed one to my father and kept the other for myself.

  The king and some of his men had gathered around the fire. They talked in hushed tones, but I still caught most of the conversation.

  “Should we send out more search teams?”

  “In the dark? It would be suicide.”

  “But we can’t just leave them out there.”

  “And risk our own necks? It isn’t worth it. We’ll start our journey first thing in the morning.”

  “It may be too late.”

  The conversation stalled. I nibbled the fish, though my appetite had disappeared. Where was Kull? He had to be on the island. He couldn’t have drowned—it wasn’t possible. His luck was too good for that. If anything, I should have been the one to drown, not him.

  Please, Kull. Please be alive!

  Overhead, something caught my eye. A black shape blocked out the stars for a moment. I recognized the long neck, tail, and outstretched wings. A dragon. It sailed toward the mountains and disappeared.

  The warriors held tight to their weapons, but the dragon never returned.

  Dragons were some of the most clairvoyant creatures on the planet. If anyone could help me find my missing companions and tell me where to put the bloom, it would be them. I knew I would be taking a risk by visiting them, but I’d dealt with dragons a time or two before. Plus, my stepfather’s name carried clout—even out here. The dragons would be extremely foolish to harm me.

  I chewed a mouthful of fish, watching as the flames consumed the wood, listening to the twigs crack and split in half. Without Kull, an emptiness settled inside me. Where was he?

  Glancing at my father, an idea struck me that I hadn’t considered before.

  Father had been following who he thought was Mom through the forest, and Kull had also had hallucinations on the ship. What if Kull was out in that forest now—following the apparition of his grandfather?

  I turned to the mountains.

  The moonlight glowed over the peaks, casting bluish light on the steam rising from the volcanic vents. Keeping my gaze on the mountains, I gathered my pack. The Wults wouldn’t travel during the night, which worked to my advantage. Whatever was out there couldn’t be killed with swords or spears. I had half my magic, which was a better defense than any manmade weapon.

  I checked through my pack to make sure I had everything. My mirror, the orb, my knit scarves. I grabbed a knife, a canteen, and some dried fruit, then placed them with the other items. Rolf approached as I stood. His eyebrows rose.

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  I didn’t want to tell him. What if he tried to stop me? “I’m just going to check on something. I’ll be back soon.”

  “You’re going to find Kull, aren’t you?”

  I sighed. I’d never been good at lying. “Yes.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “No, I’m going alone.”

  “Are you serious? Don’t you know what’s out there?”

  “Rolf, I’ll be fine. I still have half my magic to protect me. But I won’t be able to protect us both. Besides, I need you to look after my father.”

  “I’d rather come with you.”

  “I know, but I need you here. My father needs help, and I don’t trust just anyone to look after him. Will you do this for me? Please?”

  He stuck his hands in his pockets as he considered his choices. “You know Kull will
kill me once he finds out I let you go alone.”

  “Kull will be pleased that you looked after my father like I asked you to do.”

  He sniffed. “You sound like my mother.”

  I slung my pack over my shoulder. “I’ll be back before sunrise.”

  He grunted. I turned away before he could come up with more reasons to follow me. The last thing I needed was another person to look after. I appreciated his concern and usually I would have welcomed his help, but not this time.

  This was an island of magic. His sword would be of no help to me. Plus, I couldn’t let him risk his life. I’d been raised by dragons and understood more about them than most. If anyone were to confront them, it should be me.

  The sand shifted beneath my boots as I made my way down the beach. With the moonlight reflecting off the water, I didn’t have trouble seeing where to go, but soon that wouldn’t be the case. I would need some way to see as I moved through the jungle. The enchanted rocks had worked pretty well in the underground tunnels; could I use the same thing here? I scanned the beach but didn’t find any rocks. Could I use something else?

  Waves crashed along the shore. The water seemed to dance under the moonlight, gliding forward and retreating with musical rhythm. Grains of sand sparkled under the moonlight, giving me an idea.

  I scooped up a handful of dry sand. Could I manipulate it the same way I had the pebbles? I gathered my magic. By now, using Earth magic had become easier, though it still felt uncomfortable.

  I released my magic into the sand. It didn’t glow immediately, but slowly illuminated, like an old-fashioned halogen light. With careful hands, I released the sand and let it float into the air. Like hundreds of tiny fireflies, the sand grains hovered around me, lighting the way as I moved from the beach to the jungle.

  The humidity in the jungle made my clothes stick to my skin. I jumped when I heard an unfamiliar chirp, though as I moved into denser jungle, I heard the sounds more frequently. Something was alive out here—that was for sure.