by Sarah Noffke
“Is that a first?” Azure asked.
“I believe it is,” Ever answered.
“So back to my question—what changed? Why is Virgo so different from the hundred other places you rejected as long-term options?”
Ever directed his horse to a pond at the side of the ravine. The water was clear here, having melted recently and flowed down the mountain. Soon, when winter took over, this would all be covered in snow. He halted his horse and dismounted.
“I think this is the ideal place to take a break and give the horses a chance to rest. We’ve got a clear view of our competition,” he said, pointing up at the ridge. Monet and Laurel weren’t moving fast and looked to be arguing, if the werecat’s jerky arm movements were any indication.
“Good idea. I can send them another distraction. Thinking the winds are about to pick up for those two,” Azure said, a devilish tone in her voice.
Ever nodded his approval, pulling the collar of his jacket up to protect him from the chill in the air. “Just keep the wind out of here.” The only downside to being in the ravine was that there was no sun, so the temperature was significantly lower.
Azure’s horse found a spot next to Ever’s and they drank. The queen stretched her legs, walking back and forth several times. When she doubled back, she realized Ever had been watching her. “What?”
He shrugged. “What are you most looking forward to seeing on this tour?”
“The things I never knew I didn’t know about,” Azure said at once, having already thought about this question.
Ever scratched the back of his head, a confused look on his face. “Think I’m going to need an explanation, Your Majesty.”
“I know about Earth, at least enough to know I don’t know anything about it. And I know about the Great Pyramids, both here and on Earth. I can wonder what it would be like to explore them, to try and understand the relationship between our Egypt and the one on Earth. However, there are other things I don’t even know I don’t know about. I can’t begin to ponder the possibilities.”
“Do you mean like distant planets or cultures or species?” Ever asked.
“I do, but I also mean simple foods and musical instruments and ideas. I want to know about all of it. I can’t wait to realize I’ve just learned something that I hadn’t even known existed.”
“So you mean there are things you know, things you know you don’t know, and there’re things you don’t even know you don’t know?” Ever asked.
“Exactly! I’m going to New Egypt first because I don’t know anything about the kingdom and want to learn, and there will be many new things to learn once I get there.”
“It goes on forever, this learning thing.”
“I love it,” Azure said, the excitement making her chest buzz with nerves.
“That was why I fell in love with traveling in the first place,” Ever admitted.
“And again we get to my question. Why do you want to call Virgo home now, especially if that’s true for you about traveling?”
Ever stared into the water, seeming to think about the question. Then his face changed, wrinkles creasing his forehead and his eyes narrowed in concentration. He squatted, his attention taken by something in the pond, and pointed. “What is that?”
Azure walked over, but didn’t see anything until she was close. Something shiny sparkled from the bottom of the shallow pool.
Ever reached for the object, but hesitated. Azure had been bitten by enough things in foreign waters to understand his reluctance, so she raised her wand and swiped it. Something broke the surface of the water, splashing the horses as it rose straight into the air. It hovered in place, turning in a circle and giving the two a chance to look it over.
“Is that what I think it is?” Azure asked. She had only seen one in a book.
It was silver and had an intricately carved handle, a wide belly, and a long spout.
“I do believe it is. We’ve found a genie’s lamp,” Ever said.
CHAPTER FIVE
After pulling the flask from his hip, Monet unscrewed it with the hand not holding the reins. He felt the wind from the flapping of Manx’ wings just before the raven appeared beside him, keeping pace easily.
“When you indulge you slow down,” Manx said, a disapproving look in his beady bird-eyes.
“When you talk, I feel like I need to drink more.” Monet tipped his head back and took a long sip from the stainless steel flask. Its turquoise inlay spelled Monet’s initials, MT. The incredibly well-made flask had been a gift from a patron Monet had helped cure of a stubborn case of shingles.
Manx shifted to the black stallion, his creepy beam-like eyes looking straight at the Potions Master. Normally being bullied by a stallion would have spooked another horse, but Monet had enchanted his steed to have incredible courage. He expected the horse might run across a few scary things on this journey and didn’t want to dirty his robes getting bucked off.
“I thought you wanted to win?” Manx asked, whinnying.
“Of course I want to win and I plan on it, even with you and Laurel holding me back,” Monet said, casting a glance at the werecat, who scoffed right on cue.
“How do you plan on doing that?” Laurel asked, skepticism heavy in her green eyes.
Monet took another drink, his mouth puckering from the warm liquor. “Well, kitty cat, the universe always conspires for me. It just so happens that I set up a meeting with a group who needs a supply of certain potions. I think I can persuade said group to help us out by creating a complication that will pull dear Azure off-course and create a serious delay for them.”
Laurel slowed her horse, apprehension making her grip her reins tighter. “Meeting? Who do you have a meeting with?” She peered over one shoulder and then the other, her eyes narrowing.
“Oh, you won’t see them yet. These freaks are hard to spot, and besides we won’t meet them until we enter the forest down there. That’s where they live, or so I’m told. No one knows for sure. Mysterious little buggers.” Monet pointed to a section of forest in the valley below. Behind it the desert stretched, a vast expanse of red sand and deadly cacti that killed travelers who accidentally brushed against their needles in the dark.
“Wait…freaks? What kind of creature are we talking about?” Laurel asked, her tone now tight with worry.
Monet steered his horse onto a path that put them on a course down the mountain. “These guys are horrible. Ugly as a horse’s ass. They are brutal to outsiders too, which makes them even more intolerable.”
“If that’s the case, why are we meeting with them?” Laurel asked.
“For the plain and simple fact that I love money.” Monet held up his flask, which was almost empty. “This herd of mutants makes a very tasty vodka that will melt your face off, and I’m almost out of it.”
Visibly shaken, Laurel reluctantly followed Monet to the first set of trees and said, “You’re risking our lives so you can acquire more stuff to kill your brain cells?”
“Yes, and also to help these monsters breed.” Monet drained the rest of the flask. He closed one eye and peered into it, disappointment on his face.
“Breed?” Manx asked, still in stallion form. “Didn’t you say these creatures are horrible? Why would you help them reproduce?”
Before Monet could answer, Laurel let out an audible sigh. “Because he likes money. Monet is going to risk our lives and probably get us roasted over a fire just because he made a deal with some savage beasts! And who knows how much time we’ll lose while he makes this deal? All so he can get drunk and increase the population of a bunch of mutants!”
Monet halted his horse just inside the forest, a crooked smile on his face and cast a glance back at Laurel. “Did I mention that these lovely creatures have incredible hearing?”
The chill from the forest slipped over the group. It was much darker inside, making it hard to see what was in the shadows, but Laurel had cat vision and she recognized the figure even before it stepped away fr
om the closest tree.
She gasped, her paw rocketing to her mouth.
The large figure gracefully trotted to a small clearing just in front of the group. The sunlight through the canopy overhead cast a weird greenish glow, which made the deep scowl on the man’s face look even more sinister.
“Werecat, you dare to call me a mutant?” the centaur said. His long golden hair hung over his broad shoulders and his sharp ears wiggled with irritation. His eyes were narrowed on Laurel. Over his back was slung a bow, with the quiver of arrows strapped to a belt at his hip. His horse body was light brown, and he was almost the size of Manx in stallion form.
“Andrei, I do apologize for my traveling companion’s remarks. Laurel is completely small-minded, and doesn’t have the same humanitarian spirit as I do. I have no idea what the queen sees in the fleabag,” Monet said, sliding down from his horse and pulling a large blue bottle from his saddlebag.
“What are you talking about? I’m a wereanimal!” Laurel yelled, furious.
Monet shook his head, casting a mischievous look at Laurel before facing his client.
The centaur snorted. “Ignorance and intolerance aren’t confined to one species. Didn’t your people lock themselves away in the Mountain of Lancothy because they didn’t want to be judged for being different?” he asked, his nostrils flaring with anger.
“Well, yes, but that was only because they didn’t want to be exposed to prejudice,” Laurel explained.
“Funny, it sounds like your people are the ones who are prejudiced. That’s why radical segregation occurs to you as an option,” the centaur said.
“I left Lancothy.” Laurel’s voice made the birds in the trees overhead scatter.
“I’m hoping that the werecat’s behavior doesn’t cause you to kill her.” Monet tilted his head back and forth as if weighing his options. “That would be a bummer, and would probably slow me down.”
“Monet!” Laurel shrieked.
The centaur flexed his fingers over the bow, but didn’t unsling it. “For you, Monet, I will overlook what this werecat said.” He looked at her directly. “It would serve you well to display the same kind of tolerance Monet has shown for our people.”
About to burst, Laurel screamed, “I was repeating what he said about you being mutants. I’m half-cat, half-human!”
Monet shook his head and tapped the side of his head. “I think there’s lead in the water in Lancothy. Not all there, as you can see.”
Manx had shifted into a goat and was now at Monet’s side. He studied the centaur. “Why do you need potions to breed?”
The centaur eyed the black goat and then brought his blue eyes to Monet. “I thought I told you to keep this a secret.”
“Well, he’s a goat, so I wouldn’t really worry about it. And the werecat will probably get herself killed before we make it to New Egypt. She’s never really been outside Lancothy. But honestly, I don’t know how you expected me to sneak away and get this potion to you without others finding out.” He held the bottle up and swung it back and forth in his fingers. “You do still want it, right?”
The centaur cleared his throat, standing tall and looked down at Manx. “To answer your question, pooka, our numbers have been decreasing. The centaurs are sensitive to changes in the celestial moons, so we experience vicissitudes before true unbalance occurs. This potion may help, but the true problem is that an imbalance in our magical world is about to occur.”
“Sounds foreboding,” Manx said, his voice matter-of-fact.
“Sounds awful. What could the imbalance be? Centaurs see the future, right? What has your tribe seen?” Laurel asked, nearly frantic.
The centaur looked at Laurel and then, pretending to not hear her, he looked directly at Monet. “That potion, it will help?”
“You’ll have so many four-legged babies running around here that you’ll have to childproof the forest,” Monet said, handing the potion to the centaur.
Andrei tightened his jaw, but took the potion. “I’ve had your payment delivered to the location you specified in New Egypt.”
Monet rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Man, I’m getting drunk when we get to our hotel.”
“Seriously, this imbalance sounds important. Is there something we should know?” Laurel asked again.
Andrei scowled at her. “Werecat, we have seen the future, but if you knew anything of my people you’d know we don’t share with others. It is our job to chart the futures, not to share them.”
“But what if we could do something to help?” Laurel was really worked up now.
“Actually, I’m kind of done talking about this gloom and doom. I was wondering if you’d do me a favor.” Monet pointed into the distance. “Queen Azure is traveling over that way, and we have a bit of a race going on. I was hoping you’d help me out by offering a bit of a distraction. In payment, your next potion will be on the house.”
“On the house?” he asked, not catching the reference.
“Free,” Manx explained, starting to look bored. He trotted away, grazing on the forest vegetation as goats are wont to do.
“Yes, I think that would be a fair deal. What would you like us to do?” the centaur asked.
“I dunno—figure something out. Have the herd charge her, or shoot a bunch of arrows,” Monet said.
“You can’t do that!” Laurel spat.
Monet agreed with a reluctant nod. “Oh, fine. Don’t kill the queen. We just want to slow her down.”
Andrei regarded Monet for a long moment. “You say that in return you’ll make the next potion for free? Are you a man of your word?”
“I’m many despicable things, but yes, I can be trusted.” Monet held out his hand to the half-man, half-horse, who didn’t take it.
“My people don’t shake hands to finalize deals,” Andrei said.
“Well, what do you do?” Monet asked, and then shook his head. “Never mind, I don’t think I want to know if it involves horse parts.”
“Potions Maker, be grateful that the heavens blessed you with incredible skill. Otherwise you’d be dead and few would show remorse,” Andrei said, puffing out his bare chest.
Monet turned, pretending he hadn’t heard the centaur. “I think you’re swell too, but I’ve got to be off. Races don’t win themselves. Slow the queen down and I’ll make it worth your while.”
Monet mounted his horse, pulling his mint-green robes out from under him so they draped gracefully around the horse.
“Centaurs do not usually play these games you wizards dabble in. It obscures our third eye when we engage in mischief. However, your payment was steep and my tribe would be glad to not have to pay that the next time,” Andrei said.
Laurel looked sideways at Monet. “How much vodka did you have delivered?”
“Enough to make the next week really interesting,” Monet said with a wicked grin.
“We stocked the hotel with enough vodka to drown a small army for quite some time,” Andrei said, disbelieving.
“Yeah, yeah. Distraction? That’s your job, Drei,” Monet said, pressing his heels into his horse and starting forward.
“Wait!” Laurel held out her arm to stop Monet. “This prophecy… Andrei, will you please tell us something? If there is anything that we need to be aware of, a danger lurking, then the queen should know about it.”
Andrei looked farther into the Dark Forest, where there was some rustling. “You know enough to be careful. What will happen will make my people suffer now, but it could devastate all Oriceran if not dealt with swiftly.”
“You said that the magic will be out of balance, right? I don’t have any magic, though. Will I be able to help?” Laurel asked, her eyes full of worry.
“You, werecat, are safe from the greatest danger, but even those without magic could be harmed. Your queen is already on a course to remedy the approaching war, but one false decision and she’ll lose her footing.” Andrei looked into the woods once more, almost as if he were getting a message from the
trees. “I can say no more on the subject. Restoring the balance will take time, and many will suffer.” He turned and trotted into the mist, his tail swishing back and forth.
“Dramatic much?” Monet asked Laurel, pursing his lips at the retreating centaur.
CHAPTER SIX
The lamp was cold and slippery in Azure’s hands. She stopped herself from drying it and instead just stared at it, dumbstruck. Finally she said to Ever, “What should I do with it?”
“Rub it!” Finswick answered, looking up at her from the ground. He’d awoken and ran over as soon as the lamp had been discovered.
Azure nodded, but didn’t do as he encouraged. “Genies can be incredibly helpful, but…”
“But they can also be dangerous. They are, in essence, demons,” Ever said, a tentative look on his face. His eyes studied the lamp, uncertainty written in them.
“I don’t think they are considered purely bad. Genies are very much like Manx. Some pookas are good and some are mean, but all are considered mischievous,” Finswick offered, flicking his tail back and forth.
“True,” Azure said, pondering the notion. “You think I should free this genie, don’t you?” She knew the answer without her familiar’s reply, but it would make her feel better to have his vote outright.
“Of course I do. Three wishes. What could go wrong with that?” Finswick asked.
“Everything,” Ever said, stressed. “If history teaches us anything, it is that wishes don’t always go the way the wisher thinks. For example, an orc by the name of Hoka found a lamp and wished for power. He then defeated every orc army, and nearly wiped out half the population of his brethren. The orcs have only recovered from that battle in the last one hundred years.”
“That was an orc, though. They are prone to violence. Azure won’t wish for such a thing,” Finswick argued.
“Trinity, a Light Elf in a faraway land, used her wishes to make everyone in her kingdom supremely intelligent. They became so smug because of their great intellect that no one wanted to interact with them,” Ever offered.
