“Even about the butterflies?”
King Justin raised his eyebrows with a grave and deliberate slowness. “Especially the butterflies! So my best advice, Nemus, is to continue your excellent watch and to keep your distance. Let’s have this play out for a while longer and see what happens.”
Nemus nodded. “I understand. Like you said, let Caldurian show us who he really is and then clamp him in chains.”
“Yes, something like that,” he said, giving him a fatherly pat on the shoulder. “Now return to your camp, Nemus, and remember–business as usual tonight.”
“Understood,” he replied before heading back.
When he was finally alone among the horses, King Justin shook his head as a swirl of conflicting thoughts battled one another in his weary mind. He hated deceiving people, but some matters couldn’t be divulged just yet, even to his closest friends and advisors. After giving himself a moment, he soon rejoined King Cedric and King Rowan around a small fire where they had remained enjoying their breakfast.
“Justin, your tea is probably as cold as stream water,” King Cedric remarked while munching on a biscuit. “Sit down and relax. You’ll have all day to address the minor concerns thrown your way.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” he replied. “There were a few lingering matters I was happy to get out of the way before we start moving.”
“Anything we can do?” King Rowan asked.
“No. Just minor concerns as Cedric rightly guessed,” King Justin replied with a gracious smile. “Just minor concerns.”
The Fox and Bear moons shone brilliantly later that evening as they dipped in the west. Carmella took a short break from one of her lessons and sat by the wizard’s campfire. She gazed up at the lunar pair, pleased with the amount of light they offered, thinking it sufficient to help guide her way into the valley.
Suddenly a burst of sparks erupted from the fire, startling her. At that same moment, the wizard emerged from his tent carrying a small torch, hunched over and appearing tired like a bear lumbering outside its cave after a long hibernation. The tent flap had been tossed over the roof edge, leaving a yawning opening in the darkened structure.
“I can’t find that blasted vial of ground gerka root!” Caldurian spouted in frustration. “And I couldn’t find it earlier in your wagon.”
“It was next to the rasaweed. I know we had plenty of it left.”
“But I can’t find it!” he snapped. “We must have used it up.”
“Well, you’re in a mood tonight,” Carmella replied. “But to make you happy, I’ll check my supplies. Maybe we can substitute if we need to.”
“Substitute? I think not! Maybe we should call it a night.” The wizard stretched his arms with the torch still in hand. “These lessons have been taxing. Perhaps you could use a break, too.”
“Surely we have time for one more lesson!” Carmella pleaded. “I don’t want to stop now that I’m making progress.” She grabbed the torch from the wizard and climbed up the three steps set near the back of her wagon. “I’ll find that gerka root. Let me take another look.” She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Caldurian shook his head and sighed. He followed her into the wagon and partially closed the door behind him. “All right, but only one more lesson,” he uttered in strict tones as his words seeped out through the narrow opening and drifted across the tall grass. The Fox and Bear moons inched westward in their silent journey.
A few minutes later, Carmella’s disappointed words seeped out the back of her wagon. “Hmmm, so I guess we did use it all up.” Slowly the door opened and she stepped out with the glowing torch in hand.
“That’s what I told you from the start!” The wizard’s voice angrily boomed within the shadows behind her. “So with that, I’ll be off to bed.”
“Fine!” Carmella replied, climbing down the steps with the torch held aloft. The wizard emerged through the doorway a moment later, following closely behind. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if you hid the rest of that gerka root on purpose,” she added with a backward glance as she walked toward the campfire. She disgustedly tossed the torch into the flames which sent up a shower of dancing sparks. The wizard in the meantime, slipped quietly into his tent, slowly shaking his head as Carmella shuffled back to her wagon. Suddenly she stopped and spun around, going to Caldurian’s tent. She poked her head through the opening. “Just so you know, I expect an extra lesson tomorrow!” she demanded before dropping the tent flap and sealing the wizard inside.
Carmella trudged to her wagon, muttering as she lifted the set of steps and slid them inside the back before pulling the door closed. She walked to the front, gently patting her horses before climbing up onto the seat and grabbing hold of the reins. With a gentle command, the wagon rattled across the grassy terrain until it rolled outside the border of Caldurian’s invisible square prison. Carmella offered a gentle wave and a friendly smile to one of the guards as she departed.
“See you tomorrow night if he’s in a better mood,” she said as she passed by, noting an amused grin upon the soldier’s face.
But instead of retiring for the night, Carmella continued driving along the southern edge of the encampment. As she slowly rattled past a series of bonfires, the steady glow of reddish-orange flames projected thin, wavering shadows upon an array of tents whose walls undulated in a gentle breeze. She noted the distant line of the Drusala River to her left as it flowed with a mirror-like stillness. The dual moons cast their subtle light upon the enchanted waters, unfazed by the strength of Vellan’s spell.
In time, the last camps receded against a velvety black backdrop. Carmella glanced over her shoulder for a final look. She didn’t encounter any of the perimeter guards though guessed that they had most likely seen her as they blended in with the night. Being true to his word, King Justin must have informed his sentries of her late-night excursion and told them not to bother her. She sighed, wondering if she would ever see the kindly King again.
Carmella veered southwest, heading for a stretch of trees about a mile away from King Justin’s army. The land had gradually sloped downhill in spots and she took her time navigating the bumpy and hard terrain. About ten minutes later, the ground leveled off and she headed directly west again. A scattering of trees grew to her left that soon thickened into a dense wood. A half mile farther south, and now out of her view, lay the Drusala River.
She pulled gently on the reins moments later and brought her team to a stop, releasing a stream of air through her tightly pressed lips. She leaned back in her seat for a moment and looked up at the dual moons plowing through a field of stars.
“Well, here goes nothing,” she whispered to the darkness as a sliver of doubt overshadowed her finely crafted plan. “Or maybe not,” she added with a shrug before climbing off the cart. The silvery light of the two crescent moons splashed upon the colorfully embroidered stars, comets and other fantastical shapes on her cloak.
She walked to the back of the wagon whose faded sides were painted as wildly as her flowing cloak. With a rapidly beating heart, Carmella pushed open the back door, reached inside and removed the steps. She set them on the ground and then stepped back into the moonlight, gazing apprehensively into the black void of the wagon’s interior.
“You can step outside,” she softly said. “We’re far away from the encampment.”
For a moment there was utter silence except for the rustling wind through the trees. Carmella noted a wavering shadow moving inside the wagon, the vague object nearly indistinguishable from its murky surroundings. Finally, a tall figure emerged through the doorway and into the moonlight.
“Well done,” said Caldurian while standing on the top step, a satisfied smile upon his face. “It seems, Carmella, there’s a bright future for you in the world of smoke manipulation, and perhaps in theatrics as well. Congratulations on this impressive first showing.”
CHAPTER 98
Varied Paths
Carmella guided her horses through the moo
nlight of southern Kargoth with Caldurian by her side, both pleased with their clever deception. Earlier at the army encampment, they had combined their limited powers to create a smoke replica of the wizard inside her wagon, and then together, manipulated it to walk back to Caldurian’s tent. Now, both traveled through the night, finally in control of their fates when it mattered most.
They took a break past midnight near a stream flowing down from the mountains to their north, believing they were safe from the King’s patrolling scouts. Following the wizard’s advice, Carmella had veered gradually toward the mountains and away from easier paths along the river valley. Caldurian believed that King Justin would dispatch search parties up the Drusala River and into the woods along its banks when his absence was discovered the next morning.
“After one whiff of the stale smoke and sooty remains inside my tent, it won’t take long for Tolapari to figure out how I made my escape,” he said with a mirthful chuckle. “But we have enough time to put plenty of distance between us and them. Still, it might be wise for you to unhitch this wagon in the stretch of woods up ahead. We can make better time riding the horses to Del Norác.”
“I won’t leave my wagon behind,” Carmella insisted. “This vehicle has been my home away from Red Fern for many years. I couldn’t bear the thought of abandoning it.”
“But if we–”
“But nothing,” she replied. “If it takes a bit longer to reach Vellan, then so be it. I will not inconvenience myself for his sake or for yours. That was not part of our deal.”
Caldurian sighed. “Very well. As far as getting to Del Norác, I will leave our fate in your hands. But once there, please let me direct the way. I’ve been to Vellan’s abode in Mount Minakaris many times and have sway with his people. You are a stranger and would be arrested on the spot.”
Carmella shrugged. “What’s wrong with that? I want to find my cousin. Being arrested would be a logical step toward that goal.”
“Unless you’re killed in the process,” the wizard gruffly replied. “Or worse yet, taken to Deshla prison. Madeline, I’m certain, is in Vellan’s stronghold if she’s still alive. And though Deshla and Vellan’s quarters are both built into the mountain, they are still a distance apart. Deshla is farther west around the base of Minakaris, and from the stories I’ve heard, you most definitely do not want to end up there.”
“You’ve never paid it a visit?” Carmella asked with an uneasy heart, knowing that Nicholas and Leo were taking part in a raid upon the compound. When she thought of Ivy possibly languishing in Deshla, she couldn’t help but fear the worst.
“Vellan never gave me a tour, and truthfully, I wasn’t eager to see his operation,” he admitted. “While I have the stomach to endure much that is unpleasant, even this wizard has his limits. So do not be flippant about wanting to be apprehended by Vellan’s soldiers. They might toss you in Deshla for sport before questioning you–or into the Drusala River–which would end your quest in a flash.”
“Point well taken. Anything else?”
“Yes. Since you refuse to relinquish your wagon, I suggest you veer left about a half mile after we pass the woods coming up on our right. As I recall, the land is more easily passable just south of here with a few villages and fertile farmland scattered about.” The wizard looked askance at Carmella. “Yet I can’t say when the fields have last been tilled or planted. The Enâri and Islanders had swept into most regions of Kargoth that were once productive. Many residents fled who were not loyal to Vellan or under his enchantment. But now that the Enâri no longer exist, many farms have probably been abandoned. The same goes for the iron, coal and silver mines Vellan operated in the surrounding mountains.”
“Vellan had a hand in several lucrative undertakings.”
“Magic and a fattened treasury allowed him local control and influence abroad. But those ventures must be at a standstill since the Spirit Box was opened. All the people of Harlow, Linden, Surna and Kargoth combined, even if under Vellan’s will, couldn’t match the population of workers provided by the Enâri horde. Vellan’s success was due to their vast numbers and unthinking devotion.”
“But now that they’ve been removed, he doesn’t have a leg to stand on,” Carmella remarked. She gently snapped the reins, passing several tall trees to their right.
“I wouldn’t paint an image of Vellan as that crippled, but I see your point. Still, King Justin and his allies had better watch themselves. A cornered animal at wit’s end is both dangerous and unpredictable. Best to keep that in mind.”
“I suppose Vellan may yet have a few surprises up his sleeves.”
“As should we all,” Caldurian replied, his face bathed in moonlight and shadows as he felt for the small glass vial deep inside his cloak pocket. “As should we all.”
Carmella and the wizard rode throughout the night, agreeing it would be safest to sleep during the day until they had a better feel for the lay of the land. An hour before sunrise, Caldurian eyed a small farmhouse standing sleepily against the ashen gray horizon. They headed for the structure along a rutted, grassy path. A storage barn and a small shed, visible to the right, slouched among the gloomy surroundings. Another farmhouse stood at the far end of an adjacent fallow field, each building once part of a thriving community that had gone to seed.
“Hardly a top rate establishment, but it will do,” Caldurian tiredly remarked, gazing at the one-story clay brick building with a thatched roof. Last autumn’s dried weeds encroached upon the front door and shuttered windows.
“I can barely keep my eyes open,” Carmella said with a deep yawn as she brought the wagon to a halt.
“Me either, though I don’t especially mind,” the wizard replied. “Sleep has not been a loyal companion ever since I fell victim to the âvin éska. But I suspect the abundant fresh air and my first taste of freedom in quite some time have finally tired me out.”
Carmella unhitched the horses and let them drink from a stream running through the property. Caldurian wandered to the front door and cautiously placed an ear to the wood and listened, but heard nothing. He leaned against the door and gave it a firm push with his shoulder. It opened, allowing a gush of stale air to flow out into the cool, predawn air. He then grabbed a stick lying on the ground, and after whispering a few words, its tip began to glow until it burst into a small, steady flame.
“I’m happy to say that smoke isn’t the only thing I can manipulate again,” he commented in the shadows as Carmella approached from behind. “Who knows, but by the time I reach Kargoth, I may be my old self again.”
“That would be a shame,” Carmella replied as she stepped into the circle of light. “I believe your temporary inability to dabble in magic is what spurred your desire to meet with me and take me on as an apprentice. Had Tolapari never used the âvin éska against you, can you honestly say that you would have had any interest in our alliance?” Caldurian returned a wounded gaze. “I’m only speaking what’s in my heart.”
“Perhaps so, but your comment is still a weighty nugget to digest,” he replied with a faraway look, causing Carmella some concern. “But do not misinterpret me. I am neither offended nor upset. I’m merely considering the possibility that your words just might be true.” He stroked his beard, his thoughts running wild. “If things had turned out otherwise and I wasn’t forced to sit for weeks in the Citadel pondering my fate and past deeds, perhaps I might still be the same old Caldurian.” A vague smile appeared on his lips. “Then again, maybe I still am. These few days together have been lovely, but is it possible that most people remain who they really are deep down inside regardless of temporary shifts in circumstances?”
“Perhaps–or perhaps not,” Carmella replied, rubbing her arms as dampness and fatigue took its toll. “Time will tell. But it’s far too late–or early, I can’t tell which–to have a philosophical discussion.”
“You’re right,” he said, indicating for her to follow him inside. “Sleep is our first concern. We’ll evade no one if
we succumb to a deep slumber while traversing the roads of Kargoth, such as they are.”
He stepped inside the farmhouse with Carmella close behind. The light from the torch seemed to be eaten up by the darkness. Slowly their eyes adjusted to the gloom and both looked around in the small kitchen of sorts. A chairless table kept company with a tiny fireplace, its yawning hearth holding a pile of charred logs upon a bed of cold ashes. As they wandered a few steps during their cursory examination, the tip of Carmella’s boot hit a heavy object lying on the ground, briefly startling her.
“Nothing to be frightened of,” Caldurian said, holding the torch aloft. “No one else is around.”
“I’m on edge from a lack of sleep,” she replied as the wizard bent down to examine her discovery. “What is it? A dead animal?”
“No,” he replied. He stood and held up the object for her to see. “It’s only a boot.”
“A boot?”
He nodded with a grim façade and slowly tipped the boot upside down. A stream of sand spilled out like a narrow waterfall, momentarily baffling Carmella.
“There’s a second boot beside it that’s also filled with sand,” he said. “And a pile of ragged garments.”
Carmella gazed at the shadowy floor before glancing up wide-eyed at the wizard, suddenly understanding. “Enâri remains,” she whispered. “One of them must have died here.”
“Perhaps several.” Caldurian walked to the fireplace and noticed another dark mound on the floor. Upon closer inspection, he discovered a second set of sand-filled boots and a pile of tattered garments. He grabbed a charred stick from the fireplace and ignited it with his torch, providing more light in the room. He handed it to Carmella so they could better search the property inside and out.
In all, they located the sandy remains of twenty-six Enâri creatures within the three buildings on the farmstead. An additional seven were found at various spots outdoors. Carmella felt queasy upon the first few discoveries and decided to sleep through the approaching morning in her wagon. She wished Caldurian a good rest in the farmhouse.
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