Adrift

by J F Rogers

  The sky darkened in the distance. It wasn’t raining yet. All the more reason to get out now. I passed the place of worship, keeping a suspicious eye on it. What did they do in there? What gods did they worship? For what purpose? Did they make blood sacrifices? I shuddered, skirting it as if the place might shoot out mind-altering waves to suck me into their way of thinking.

  “Ah, Fallon. I’ve been looking for you.”

  Darn. I’d almost made it to the gate. I swiveled to see who spoke.

  Valter stood a few feet from me, his gold-embellished doublet a fantastic fit that showed off his shoulders and the V of his chest tapering into his waist. A sword hung from his hip. I didn’t care for his air of importance, but his smile softened me. “I wonder…might you join me in a tour of the kingdom?”

  My heart skipped a beat. What made me so nervous? “Uh. I guess. Sure.”

  Valter motioned to the temple. “Shall we?”

  “Ummm…” I took a couple steps back.

  Laughing, he grabbed my hand and led me inside. Color blasted my eyes as if a rainbow had thrown up and splashed every surface from the stained-glass windows and painted walls to the red cushions and spackled gold floors. White statues and carved pillars with images and lettering I couldn’t read somehow missed the spray and offered relief from the visual assault.

  People kneeled on the cushions hunched over in prayer, facing several statues before a massive window.

  Something beyond the Skittles decor bothered me. Something intangible. I sensed it like a fasgadair’s presence minus the smell. “Is it your time of worship?” I whispered.

  “The temple is always open for worship. But attendance has grown as more refugees arrive and fear spreads.”

  A woman brushed past us, down the aisle in the center of the rows of cushions, to an enormous statue. She bowed and dropped a package at its feet.

  “What’s that?” I nudged his elbow.

  “She’s leaving a grain offering to Camalus, the god of war.”

  Many packages lined the feet of the so-called gods, but Camalus had the most by far.

  “Are those packages food?”

  “Aye.”

  “I guess they’re not hungry.” I stifled a snicker.

  Valter threw me a disapproving glance.

  Did they expect the gods to consume the food? What would happen to it? Perhaps that’s how the priests earned a living. Maybe they shared it with those who might not be able to afford food. I shook my head. Didn’t matter. The whole thing was wrong. A stone remains a stone no matter how you carve it.

  The woman retreated to a cushion. She rocked back and forth, wailing, with her arms in the air.

  Okay, time to go. I launched myself out the door. Once I felt a comfortable distance and the hairs on my arms relaxed, I slowed.

  Valter caught up to me. “I apologize if she scared you.” As we approached the gate, he signaled the guards to raise it. They bowed and rotated the cranks. The iron gate rose with a painful squeal, like a stuck pig with a megaphone. “She’s afraid for her family and rightfully so.”

  Passing underneath, I eyed the gate’s sharp points. What if the rope holding it broke at the wrong moment? I quickened my pace.

  “You’ve seen the wharf on your arrival, I gather,” Valter said.

  “We passed through.”

  “Perhaps we can visit another time. Follow me.” He veered in the direction opposite where we’d arrived, uphill, keeping the castle wall on our right.

  People walked along the streets carrying heavy loads on their backs while children zigzagged around them. All stopped to bow as Valter neared.

  Should I have bowed? I eyed him askance, and he threw me a reassuring smile.

  The side streets and stone buildings thinned. The incline steepened. Lush grass replaced stone. The clouds hadn’t yet caught up to the sun. Thick, humid air weighed down my lungs, making breathing difficult, particularly uphill. A soft breeze swept through, cooling my skin. I put my arms out and splayed my fingers to allow the breeze to swarm and refresh me.

  A fortress stood at the crest. “Is that where we’re going?”

  “Aye. Whatever you do, don’t look back.” He winked. “Not yet.”

  The stone fortress was chilly. Openings along each side allowed the breeze to sweep through. We ascended a staircase to a tower protruding from the roof. Four posted guards remained rooted, keeping at each compass point. Tweets echoed as birds flittered about the rafters.

  “Step aside.” Valter motioned to a guard.

  The guard slid over but remained rigid, still facing out his window.

  Valter beckoned me. “Close your eyes.”

  I hesitated. I didn’t know this guy, and he was leading me to an open window many stories high. He was next in command. Who would stop him from…

  He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. “Please?”

  I closed my eyes.

  He grasped my shoulders and guided me to the wall. “Okay,” he whispered, his breath hot at my neck. “Open.”

  “Wow.” I hadn’t realized how far we’d walked or how high we’d come. Castle towers partially impeded the view. The ocean shimmered. The bustling city and wharf seemed so peaceful. I’ve never flown over a populated area before or the ocean. “It’s beautiful.”

  Folding his arms over his gilded chest, he stepped to the side and beamed.

  “Have you always lived here?”

  “Aye. This is my home.”

  “If you leave to fight in this battle, how do you plan to protect it?”

  Sunlight rippled over the golden doublet as a heavy breath filled his lungs. “Regent Kagan plans to leave a few men behind. He believes our gods and our natural defenses will protect our people.”

  I recalled the fasgadair’s swiftness, the control they’d had over me before I came to believe in God, the cavern full of monsters where I awaited my death. And Na’Rycha had built an even larger army? “He’s wrong.”

  “I’m concerned too. But the king is ill. Bandia law dictates the high priest act as regent as long as King Aleksander lives and is incapable of ruling.”

  “Who will rule if the king dies?”

  “I pray King Aleksander will not hear Aoibhell’s harp. But, should he pass from this life into the next, the crown will become mine.” Gazing out at the sea, he narrowed his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “The king had only one heir, Princess Arabella, my betrothed.”

  “What happened to the queen and princess?”

  “The queen died in childbirth. Arabella disappeared seven years ago. We awaited a ransom demand. None came.”

  He leaned against the post and inspected his fingers. “But Druantia used the tragedy to protect us. Arabella’s disappearance motivated King Aleksander to put these security measures in place. Now we’re prepared for the fasgadair.” He stretched his arm out in front of me, pointing to a clearing in the trees, outside the city walls. “See that tower there?”

  “Ay—Yes.” I giggled. I’d almost said aye.

  “Guards are posted there.” He moved his hand further up. “And there.” He pointed to the left. “And the rest up the row. Should a threat arise, the guard stationed at the post will light a fire. The other guards, as they see the signal fire, will also light their fires. We have posts surrounding this point along the bay and abutting the mountains behind us.”

  I resisted the urge to grasp his arms and shake sense into him. “But what good is that? Once you’re alerted to an attack, what will you do?”

  “If they arrive by water, the chain across the canal will keep them at bay. The guards will set the closest ships on fire. Archers will handle anyone who tries to climb ashore.”

  “What if they pass through the mountains?”

  “If they dared venture the terrain, we’d defend ourselves. Our archers would attack. The enemies fallen would take many more down with them. We have other hidden dangers in plac
e to eliminate threats.” He chuckled. “Regent Kagan has quite the imagination. I, too, trust we are well protected.”

  “How?” One foot tapped an impatient rhythm. “They have a large army. Many fasgadair can transfigure into a bird or something capable of mounting the wall, attacking from the inside, and letting others in. How will you protect yourself? There won’t be many here to defend the land. And fasgadair…don’t…die.” At an image of Aodan’s hair set on fire, blackening before returning to its fasgadair pale, I shuddered. Even his hair regrew to its original length. “From what I understand, decapitation is the only way.” Besides my blood. “You can’t decapitate them from a distance.”

  Valter shoved away from the pillar and elbowed in beside me. He braced himself against the lookout wall, his arms propped up on the edge. “That is why we need to stage our attack. We’ve already wasted so much time waiting for your arrival.” He spoke under his breath. It sounded like he said, “Sully.” His sudden puppy-dog look melted my heart. “That’s why we need you.”

  “I’m sorry, Valter.” I tipped my face to the sun, letting light and warmth soothe the aches from my temples. “I wish I could help. Really, I do. But unless we follow Sully’s instructions—”

  “You saw those people in the temple, Fallon. We can’t destroy it. The gods are our only hope…aside from you.”

  “They’re wasting their time and energy on man-made statues who can’t eat their food. Their hope should be in God. He’s the only One Who can help them.”

  “Even if that were true, we can’t go against Regent Kagan.” Straightening, Valter swept something off the windowsill—did he sweep my warning away just as casually? “And isn’t this why you’re here? Why we waited for you? To rescue us from the fasgadair? That is the prophecy.”

  “I thought the prophecy was about me and Aodan.”

  Valter shook his head. Blond curls brushed his forehead. “It’s much deeper.”

  He moved to touch my shoulder.

  I stepped out of reach. “What do you care about a prophecy given by God, spoken through Sully?”

  Valter shrugged. “There’s much truth to what Sully says.”

  “Then destroy your idols and return to God.”

  Something flashed in his ice-blue eyes. Anger? “It’s not so simple.”

  “Actually, it is. If you believe God speaks through Sully…if you believe the prophecies about me, then you must do as he says. You can’t pick and choose. If you accept part, you must accept all.”

  “Kagan is high priest and regent. He will believe in your God among his gods. But he will never destroy the idols or submit to one God.”

  “Then we go our separate ways. You with your people and me with mine.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  ◊◊◊

  I SAT ON MY bed and stared at Rowan absorbed in her book. My legs itched, antsy to do something. I sprang the mattress and pulled the heavy curtain aside. Clouds blocked out the sun, allowing diffused light to turn the landscape gray. Rain pelted the glass. Going outside wasn’t an option unless I wanted a shower. But sitting in this room wasn’t a choice either. “Let’s explore the castle. Prince Valter gave me a tour of the kingdom earlier. You should see it.”

  Rowan’s book fell to the floor. “Valter?”

  “Yes. He was the princess’s betrothed.”

  “Is he meeting you here?” Her wide-eyed glance darted to the door.

  “No. He went to the throne room.”

  Relaxing, she stooped and scooped her book off the stone tile.

  “Come check out the castle with me.”

  “Check out?”

  “Not like a library book…” Not that she’d know what that meant either. “I mean—”

  “No thanks.”

  I let out an obnoxious huff. “Fine.”

  As I left, Rowan shoved the book in front of her face.

  I lingered in the hallway like a kid waiting for someone to come out and play. I didn’t want to spend the day with Cataleen. And she probably had more important things to do. Wolf hadn’t left her side since arriving in Bandia, other than to sleep. Pepin or Cahal wouldn’t be interested. I barely knew Shimri or Maili, but I doubted they’d be interested either. Evan was my only chance. But I felt funny knocking on his door.

  Knock, knock, knocking on Evan’s door. I laughed as the tune with altered lyrics rang through my head.

  I made my way down the hall toward the stairwell, checking over my shoulder in case someone should open their door, and crashed into someone as I rounded the corner.

  “Oh!”

  “Sorry, Fallon.” Evan backed away, blushing, hands up.

  “My fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  “No, I was going too fast. I needed to get away from the politics and scoffers.”

  “I hear that. But I can’t stand sitting here for another moment. Why Rowan is content to stay there, cooped up in the room, I’ll never understand. It makes me feel like a caged animal.”

  He offered his elbow. “Then let’s take a tour of the castle, shall we?”

  “You read my mind.” I accepted his offer by grabbing his elbow and laughed.

  The castle was an endless maze. So many rooms. So many halls. Arched windows, lining some halls from floor to ceiling, helped us get our bearings. With the storm, even those halls were dimly lit. We relied on lanterns and wall sconces. A cool draft and the eerie Scooby Doo portraits sent shivers coursing through my body. If only I had a sweatshirt. And a Scooby snack.

  I chuckled. Evan gave me the look. The one that silently questioned if I’m right in the head. I brushed it off.

  Evan and I explored the castle as if it were a video game and clues might lurk in any corner. We poked our heads in every unlocked room, skipping those with guards. Some were barren with white sheets covering furniture. But, with the extra guests, many bedchambers were in use. Their occupants were likely meeting to discuss the plans to depart the following day. In other bedchambers, maids were changing bedding or tidying up. They watched us suspiciously, and we quickly shut the door. Each room had an elaborate fireplace, which would be nice despite the warm summer days. The castle felt perpetually chilly.

  Evan and I ascended to one of the upper levels. The rain had stopped, but the sun had set. No sconces were lit, and our lanterns only offered a few feet of light. Cobwebs dangled from the ceiling. Something scampered through the halls, scratching the floor.

  “Oh!” I jumped and grasped Evan’s arm.

  He laughed. “I’m sure it’s just a rat.”

  Just a rat? What planet was he from? “Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of.” I raised my lantern, suspicious of every dark space.

  Wherever we were, it appeared abandoned. Rodents and spiders the only residents these days. That and whatever they ate. Ick.

  “What’s that?” I pulled a sheet off an odd-shaped object, sending up a cloud of dust. Coughing, I waved the dust away. “A rocking horse.”

  Evan peeked under a sheet. “There’s a crib over here.”

  “I guess we found the nursery.”

  I caressed the rocking horse’s intricately carved and painted face. His eyes sad from long abandonment. “Is this part of the royal quarters?”

  “It may have been at one point. It certainly isn’t now.”

  “Where’s the king?”

  “Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s well protected.”

  “Too bad he’s sick. He might’ve been willing to work with us. I wonder what’s wrong with him?”

  Evan shrugged. “I’ve heard rumors of poison, but nothing based on any evidence.”

  I pushed open a little door toward the back of the nursery, kicking up more dust. I sneezed.

  “Bless you.” He lifted his lantern over my head. “Looks like the nurse’s room.”

  The modest room held a small bed, a dresser, and a bedside table. We passed the meager items to another nondescript door
on the opposite wall to a massive room. Another cloud of dust elicited more sneezes. A chaise lounge lingered by a window, draped in thick curtains. We passed a table and chairs to an imposing canopy bed. A dominating portrait hung above the fireplace. I lifted my lamp, illuminating the full picture, and drew in a sharp breath.

  “What is it?” Evan asked.

  “The princess isn’t dead.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  ◊◊◊

  I BURST THROUGH THE bedroom door. Rowan jumped, her book smacked her in the face.

  “You’re Princess Arabella.”

  “Shhh!” Her bulging eyes dominated her pale face. Her neck spun in every direction as though there were someone else in the room…or the walls had ears. “Shut the door.”

  I scanned the hall before pulling it closed. All clear.

  “What gives you such a preposterous idea?”

  “I saw your portrait.”

  Rowan fumbled with the book, trying to lift it from her chest, but her hands shook. “I must look like her.”

  “I’m not a fool, Arabella.” I stressed the name, not allowing her to derail me. “You refuse to leave or see anyone. You’re jumpy. You hide when people are near. You lock the door. And you totally freaked when I mentioned Valter.”

  “Freaked?” She waved her hand. “You say strange things.”

  “Don’t change the subject. You understand what I’m saying. You’re afraid of getting caught. Admit it.”

  “I’ll admit no such thing.” She placed the book beside her, sat up, and crossed her arms.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I plopped next to her. “What are you afraid of?”

  She hung her head. Blonde waves shielded her face.

  “I won’t tell anyone, but you need to give me a good reason why I shouldn’t.”

  Hands shaking, she brushed those waves aside and, slowly, so slowly, lifted her head. She searched my face, then closed her eyes. “Because I’m a disgrace. I wasn’t abducted as I led everyone to believe. I ran away.” She lowered her head, protected once more by the curtain of blonde. “I’m a traitor to my people…to my crown.”

  “Why did you run away?”