“Now don’t get overly dramatic on me, Carmella, or I’ll turn your feet orange as well.” She faced Carmella nose to nose, jabbing her in the chest with a finger. Her voice grew quiet, yet icy sharp. “But if you want me to stay out of your business, then you had better stay out of mine.”
Jagga scowled and jumped between the two women, vowing to protect Carmella at any cost. “Don’t touch my friend!” he ordered, nearly knocking both women off balance when he separated them. “You will deal with me if you do.”
“It’s all right, Jagga,” Carmella said. “You need not fear her.”
“Remove the pumpkin spell,” Jagga demanded, “and then leave!” He glared at Madeline, his nostrils flaring, his face nearly pressed into hers.
“If Carmella can tell me where the medallion is right now, I’ll consider it,” she replied.
Jagga growled, raising his arms in frustration. “She does not know, woman! You are the one who stole the round piece of metal–or knows who did. Don’t deny it.”
Madeline bent her knees slightly to be eye level with Jagga. “Listen, Enâr, I did not steal your foolish gift to my cousin, so get that through your thick head. And Carmella didn’t lose the medallion either. She gave your little trinket to King Justin who sent it off to be remade into the key to the Spirit Box by the wizard Frist himself. That is what happened to it. Despite your sentimental attachment to her, my dear cousin had no qualms about helping to destroy you and your race. She is not to be trusted.”
Jagga glared at Madeline for several moments before looking over his shoulder at Carmella. “Is this true?” he asked, his tone almost childlike.
“Tell him, Carmella. Tell Jagga that the medallion is on its way to the wizard Frist.”
Carmella looked at the inquisitive faces in stony silence and then softly spoke. “I cannot tell him that, Liney, because it isn’t true. The medallion is not on its way to Frist. I absolutely swear it.”
Jagga smiled with relief, his faith in his friend confirmed. But a chill shot through Madeline as she studied Carmella’s enigmatic expression, sensing that there was more to her cousin’s words than she was letting on. Suddenly cold reality slapped her upon the face and her skin paled like snow.
“At a loss for words?” Carmella asked, guessing that her cousin had stumbled upon the truth. “That’s so unlike you. If you have something to say, then say it.”
Madeline fumed, her thoughts fluttering chaotically. She slowly clenched her fists. “What have you done, cousin?” she asked, her words weighed down with scorn. “What have you done?”
“By your horrified expression, Liney, I think you’ve already figured it out,” she replied as the faint light of early morning increased. A frightful notion suddenly struck Carmella as well when she realized that Madeline still assumed the medallion was out in the wild. She lowered the torch and looked askance at her relative. “Tell me, Liney–just why are you here?”
Before Madeline could reply, a deafening and agonized shriek issued forth from the Blue Citadel, storming out of the broken doors and slicing through the air like a swift arrow. Madeline spun around and faced the back of the building, her heart racing and her breathing unsteady. Carmella and Jagga looked on, neither able to imagine the origin of such a disturbing noise.
“What has happened?” Madeline whispered, slowly raising her trembling hands to her face, clearly on edge. She suspected that that was Arileez’ scream riding upon the cold air, but one filled with unendurable pain and anguish.
“Whatever nefarious deed you came here for,” Carmella said, “it apparently isn’t going as planned.”
Madeline turned around and glared at her cousin. “Quiet and let me think!”
“You weren’t trying to kidnap Princess Megan again, were you?” she asked, knowing the very mention of that failed attempt would enrage her cousin.
“Enough already, I said!”
“Or were you going to steal the Spirit Box, with or without the key?”
Madeline raised her hands and screamed out in frustration, unable to tolerate her cousin’s prodding a moment longer. She lunged at Carmella with a snarl, knocking the torch out of her hand and tackling her cousin to the ground. The two women rolled and thrashed about on the frozen soil, shoving their hands in each other’s faces as they shouted and sputtered as twenty years of pent-up hostilities exploded.
“You’ve disrupted lives around here for the last time, Liney!”
“You’re a magical flop, cousin, and you always will be!”
Before they could seriously harm one another, Jagga grabbed Madeline from behind and yanked her off Carmella with a single, swift move, pulling the flailing, screaming woman off to one side. Madeline, though, twisted herself around in fiery anger and knocked off Jagga’s hat when he briefly loosened his grip. She grasped his thick neck in her hands, trying to choke the bulky Enâr as she pushed back. A moment later they tumbled to the ground and continued to struggle, rolling through the dusting of snow until Jagga was on top of Madeline as she pushed against his face.
“Get off of me, you lout!” she cried.
“Remove the pumpkin spell!” he shouted back, his tangles of dark hair hanging down his face. Jagga clenched his misshapen teeth and growled at Madeline before grabbing her arms and pulling them away from his face. “I won’t ask you again!”
“Jagga!” Carmella yelled as she sat up, clutching a sore elbow that had been bruised against the ground. “Don’t hurt her!”
“You’ll be sorry you ever met me, Enâr!” Madeline sputtered, her face red and contorted as she tried to break loose from Jagga’s hold. “I’ll see that you–!”
Without warning, three windows in one of the Citadel’s upper turrets burst out in a simultaneous shower of glass against the milky light, the frosty shards carried away on a sudden and powerful gust of wind that blasted across the landscape with thunderous force. With her head tilted back toward the sky, Madeline saw the explosion, unable to comprehend what she was witnessing until she felt Jagga’s grip loosen on her wrists. She looked up at the Enâri creature, her eyes widening in horror as she watched his face, neck, teeth, ears and hair instantly solidify into the brown and gray shades of the dirt and rock from which he was created before dehydrating mere moments later. His body suddenly collapsed upon her like a pile of sand crumbling on an exposed hillside. Madeline shrieked and flailed her arms in revulsion, frantically swishing the piles of sand and tattered clothes off her. She scrambled to her feet, continuing to sweep her hands against her body in rapid fashion, dancing about and screaming hysterically as she rid the Enâri remains from her clothing.
“Jagga…” Carmella breathlessly whispered, wandering in stunned amazement to where his clothes and boots lay amid a pile of sand and snowflakes while Madeline carried on in the background. Carmella gazed up at the turret on the top floor of the Citadel, a warm, yellow light visible behind the trio of shattered windows. She knew the Spirit Box had been opened but wondered about the fate of the person who had bravely performed the task. When she glanced to the east, she noticed a line of torches about a half mile away swiftly approaching, assuming that soldiers from the encampment had been alerted and were on their way.
Carmella picked up some of the sand and let it fall through her fingers, grieving Jagga’s absence and feeling responsible for his demise, yet believing she had little choice in the matter. She grabbed his floppy brown hat lying nearby and held it close to her, planning to keep it as a memento of her friend, knowing she would never get over her unspoken betrayal of him.
“Madeline!” a voice called out in panic moments later.
When Carmella looked up, a short, slightly stocky man was running from the Citadel toward her. But the individual quickly veered to one side and headed to Madeline, ignoring Carmella for the moment. She didn’t know who he was and really didn’t care.
Mune found Madeline thrashing about in revulsion and shock, grabbing her by the shoulders to calm her down. He was about to slap his
associate in the face when Madeline grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t even think it, Mune!” she muttered, still breathing heavily but beginning to compose herself.
“We have to leave!” he cried, not waiting for an explanation of her crazed behavior. “Something terrible has happened!”
“I know that!” she said, pointing at Carmella.
Mune glanced at the woman kneeling on the ground and shrugged. “Who’s she?”
Madeline quickly told him about the surprise meeting with her cousin after twenty years and of Jagga’s friendship with her. Mune’s baffled expression turned to one of shock when Madeline pointed to the Enâri creature’s remains.
“So the spell Frist created inside the Spirit Box really worked,” he said. “But what if it reaches–”
“–Kargoth?” Madeline asked. He nodded nervously. “I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”
Mune swallowed hard. “Get there? To Kargoth? To Vellan?”
“To the very doorstep of his stronghold in Del Norác. We have failed him, Mune. We allowed the key to be remade and used, and…” Madeline gazed sadly at the Citadel, the piercing cry from moments ago still reverberating in her head. “And I’m afraid that Arileez will not be walking out of this building again in any form.”
“I saw many dead bodies on both sides of the fight,” Mune said. “Caldurian underestimated the strength of King Justin’s men.”
“And the wisdom of his own plan.” Madeline sighed. “Just another in a long line of Caldurian’s schemes that have gone astray. Vellan will not be pleased.”
“Perhaps we should wait for Caldurian to return from Montavia,” he suggested. “No need to run off to Kargoth so soon.”
“That is where I am going,” Madeline said. “Accompany me if you’d like or take your chances with Caldurian. Or with those soldiers just ahead,” she added, pointing to the advancing troops in the east. “Your choice.”
Mune rolled his eyes, knowing he would be linked to Madeline until the end of this convoluted affair, like it or not. “We can get horses over there,” he said, indicating the stables to the west. “We better go now while we still have the chance.”
“Vellan will know what to do,” Madeline said, tightening the cloak over her shoulders. “It’s about time we took our orders directly from him. I think Caldurian has finally outlived his usefulness.”
“Just don’t let him ever hear you say that. He does have a temper,” Mune warned.
“So do I.” Madeline walked past Carmella, tossing her an icy stare as she knelt over Jagga’s remains. “I’ll deal with you another time, cousin.”
Carmella looked up with disdain. “It’s just like you to run away–again.”
“If you want me, Carmella, I’ll be in Kargoth.” Madeline glanced over her shoulder as she and Mune hurried away. “If you have the nerve to follow.”
Carmella looked away, having no desire to chase after her cousin right now. The thunder of approaching horses rumbled along the cold ground. She wondered what fate would befall the Enâri race in Kargoth now that the Spirit Box had been opened. Even after incubating for twenty years, would the spirit be powerful enough to reach Vellan’s stronghold in Del Norác? She glanced east past the approaching soldiers and thought about Prince Gregory’s offensive in Montavia that may have been launched only moments ago. Had the invisible hand of Frist’s spirit already reached there beyond the Keppel Mountains? Or had it thinned out and exhausted itself over the many miles?
Carmella sighed and carefully picked up a handful of the cold sand in her gloved fingers. She walked to the edge of the river as it noisily rushed by and tossed Jagga’s remains upon the frigid waters, watching the fine grains and falling snowflakes both silently dissolve in the growing pale light of morning.
CHAPTER 74
The Second Army
Prince Gregory and the second army of Arrondale departed Morrenwood five days before King Justin and his men had returned. It numbered a few thousand soldiers, including many from Montavia who had been training at the Citadel alongside the King’s forces. Under cool, clear skies, the prince, along with his most trusted captains and the wizard Tolapari, ventured east to Montavia where Caldurian, his Enâri army and troops from the Northern Isles had laid siege to the rural kingdom beyond the Keppel Mountains. The prince rode at the head of the line upon his steed, looking much like his father would have twenty years ago. His long brown hair played upon the breeze as his sharp blue eyes focused intently upon the terrain ahead. Lines of soldiers, horses and supply wagons proceeded down King’s Road in the waning days of autumn. Tolapari, riding next to the prince, couldn’t help but sense his restless demeanor several miles into their journey.
“I’m guessing you’re either pondering your attack strategy or worried about Princess Megan,” the wizard remarked lightheartedly. “It’s as if I’ve been riding with a statue these past few minutes, yet I can tell that the gears are turning in your fertile mind.”
Prince Gregory grinned as he looked at his friend. “The latter is correct. I was thinking about my daughter and all she’s been through of late. I’m deeply concerned about her safety. That is a parent’s job, after all, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so,” Tolapari replied, his dark blue robes wrapped loosely around his large frame. His unruly mass of thick, black hair kept his head warm enough so that he needed no hood despite the morning chill. “Megan is a resourceful woman who has demonstrated that she can take care of herself. You should be proud of her.”
“I am.”
Tolapari detected a note of uncertainty in his voice. “But I suspect you have other worries about Megan besides her safety, in my humble opinion.”
The prince chuckled. “I’ve never known you to have a humble opinion. Please, elaborate.”
The wizard raked a hand through his hair as he lightly held the reins in the other. “I believe your daughter’s affection for Leo Marsh is what’s really weighing on your mind. That is especially a parent’s job–keeping an eye on a daughter’s suitor.”
Prince Gregory smiled as he looked ahead, nodding. “You’ve struck the mark, my friend. But don’t get me wrong,” he said, glancing at the wizard. “I think Leo is a fine young man, and after all he did to help protect and save my daughter–as well as embarking on his mission with Nicholas–I have no qualms about his relationship with Megan. I’m just overwhelmed by the fact that she has grown up in the blink of an eye. It seems like only yesterday she was content to gallop around the Citadel grounds on Ruby and that was all that mattered to her. And now…”
Tolapari nodded understandingly. “Time stands still for no one.”
“I know. But having to raise Megan alone for the past nine years ever since Amara died…” He sighed. “I suppose I’ve been holding onto my daughter for two people all this time.”
“She won’t be leaving you any time soon, Gregory. There is plenty of room in the Citadel for her and a prospective husband. Just think–Mr. Marsh could revitalize the apple orchards throughout Morrenwood,” Tolapari said, cracking a smile.
“I suppose he could,” the prince replied, his mood lighter. “Who would have thought that repelling an invasion of Montavia would give me less anguish than raising a daughter? Surely parenting is the more grueling of the two jobs.”
“We haven’t arrived in Triana yet to compare. First let’s see what Caldurian and his Enâri horde have done to the city.”
“I’m sure Red Lodge won’t be the charming place that I recall from my last visit a few years ago.” Prince Gregory’s mood darkened again. “And I’ll have to break the news to King Rowan that his two grandsons have been missing for weeks. He is quite fond of William and Brendan. Their mother will be heartbroken.”
“It’s back to parenting again,” Tolapari said with an amused gleam in his eyes as their horses trotted across the hard dirt surface of King’s Road. A gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of pine through the air. “The rigors of that occupation will hav
e prepared you well when you inherit the throne from your father.”
“Though I’m in no hurry for that to happen,” he replied, “being a king will be a simple affair compared to raising Megan.” He quickly glanced at Tolapari. “Only don’t tell her that!”
In time they reached the end of King’s Road and veered left onto River Road, traveling a few more miles until twilight settled in. They lit fires and made camp on the field south of the road along the banks of the Pine River. They continued east after a brief breakfast the following gray morning, eventually passing Graystone Garrison and then the intersection with Orchard Road that stretched north to their left. Later in the day, the long lines of soldiers and supplies passed through the villages of Foley and Mitchell. They again made camp in the southern fields when they had passed two miles beyond Mitchell’s eastern border.
Before noontime the following day, the army approached the village of Kanesbury on the northern tip of the Cumberland Forest. The sun peeked out from time to time through breaks in the clouds, and the morale of the soldiers was high thanks to the cooperative weather and swift progress over the so-far accommodating terrain. As they passed through the village, spectators lined both sides of River Road to watch the men on horses at the front of the line go by, followed by companies of marching soldiers, and finally, the supply wagons pulled by sturdy steeds. Many of the locals brought their lunches and sat beneath trees to view the thrilling spectacle.
Shortly after Prince Gregory entered the village, he noticed a tall, lanky man bundled in a heavy coat with his hands shoved in his pockets, walking along the side of the road to watch the advancing lines. The prince vaguely recognized the individual, racking his brain to remember where he had seen him.
“He was at the table during the war council,” the wizard said. “He is a member of the local village council.”
Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy) Page 119
