by Payal Doshi
Right then, Flula screeched. In their shock, they had stopped paddling and the lake belched like an undersea monster.
Rotting lilies from every direction sprang out of the water. Their sinewy stems had transformed into slithering bodies, and their petals with razor-sharp teeth crowned their reptilian faces. Locking onto their prey with their bloodless eyes, they shot through the water, their flat, slimy leaves twisting into fins.
“Xeranther was right. We’re going to DIE,” cried Leela, her teeth chattering.
“KEEP MOVING,” shouted Flula, and Rea whipped the water with her paddle, creating waves to keep the lilies from coming too close.
“REA, THE POEM! Call the Ceffyl-whatever NOW!” Leela shouted at the top of her lungs.
The serpent-lilies bared their fangs. Acid-venom dripped from the tips of their teeth, and the smell of rot permeated the air. Rea tried to recite the poem in Mishti Daadi’s prophecy, but the words failed her. Each time she started to say a line, a lily leaped out of the water, snapping its serrated teeth and missing her by a hair’s breadth.
“Look away from them!” said Leela. “Now concentrate!”
Rea shut her eyes and focused on each line. Bit by bit, the words came back to her. Half a dozen tries later, she recited the whole poem.
“O winged fury, hither do hurry
To you I plead, O mighty steed
With your coat of night
and myrtle eyes,
Sail me to the shore,
O Ceffyldwer.”
Nothing happened. Rea didn’t know what she was expecting. She recited the poem again and Leela joined in. A sturdy tug reverberated from under the boat and alight with excitement, Rea turned.
“LEELA!” she yelled.
Serpent-lilies, excreting sticky secretions, were slinking up the edges of the boat. Taking turns, she and Leela thwacked them, but the serpents inched higher, smacking the paddles with their sharp tails. Every few seconds, Flula cried warnings as more lilies slid up the boat or soared out of the water. Rea was completely drenched. The boat had veered considerably away from the castle, and before Rea could think of what to do next, Leela sprang out of her seat.
Two serpent-lilies had snuck inside the boat, right between her and Leela’s legs. Rea tried to kick the creatures back into the water, but they pounced, snapping their jaws. Leela smacked them with her paddle while Rea rowed with a vengeance, kicking at the heads of more lilies as they slithered their way in.
In the midst of everything, an idea came to Rea. An incredible, fabulous, probably impossible idea.
“Floo!” she yelled. “Bring as many pari-golis as you can. HURRY!”
In a burst of energy, Flula darted across the water towards the woods. Rea didn’t know whether her trick would work, but they had nothing to lose at this point.
Turning back to the lilies, Rea continued to recite the poem. She and Leela took turns paddling. At last, it seemed they were starting to tire out the lilies. One by one, they fell over the side of the boat and into the midnight water. Just when things seemed to be getting better, a lily sprung out of nowhere and coiled itself around Leela’s leg!
Rea threw down her paddle and grabbed the serpent with both her hands. Peeling it off of her friend, Rea hurled it far into the lake, and as the serpent-lily arced through the air, she spotted a piece of Leela’s petal-skirt snagged on one of its fangs.
Heart pounding, she glanced at Leela, who was frozen with fear. Their feverish movements had generated enough velocity to keep the boat moving on its own (at least for a moment).
Leela turned pale as the moon. “We’re as good as dead,” she said, staring at the relentless lilies.
Desperately, Rea tried to come up with more ideas. This is like a puzzle, she thought. Just another puzzle to be solved with the tools we have.
As she wracked her brain for a way out, serpent-lilies gorged on the soggiest parts of the boat. Others shot out of the water to get a bite of human flesh. A pack of lilies seized Leela’s paddle with their teeth, snapping it in two. Leela swung around in terror, slicing Rea’s arm with the broken edge of her paddle. Blood poured out of Rea like a river and her wound throbbed as if it had a heart of its own. White spots clouded her vision and she cried out in pain.
Leela gaped at Rea’s wound. “What have I done? I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay. Keep paddling,” Rea said with a wince as her paddle slipped from her hands. Leela grabbed it and began paddling like crazy, creating a fury of splashing water, which made the boat go round in circles.
Rea tried not to pass out. She stared at the blood flowing down her arm. Trying to numb the pain, she shook her arm over the water.
Leela’s eyes went wide with disbelief. “Look! The lilies are swimming away!”
As droplets of her blood dripped into the lake, Rea watched in amazement as the serpent-lilies darted away from her blood like it was poison. As long as she bled into the water, the lilies circled at a safe distance. Rea was excited and relieved; she couldn’t believe her blood was scaring these fierce animals away.
“How—?” she started to ask, but before she could finish her question, she heard a familiar voice in the distance. Flula was flying toward them along with hundreds of her pari friends—each glistening in colored shimmer. In their hands, they held a cluster of pari-golis.
Rea locked eyes with Flula and gave her the go ahead.
“On my command, FIRE!” shouted Flula.
The paries flung the pari-golis over the lake and the white eyes of the hissing lilies fastened onto the dancing dots. In seconds, the nefarious serpents went limp, floating in a daze.
The paries twittered with joy. Leela stopped paddling for a minute, mesmerized by the pari-golis, until Rea reminded her to blink. Taking advantage of the paries’ distraction, Rea recited the Ceffyldwer call. The two girls paddled as fast as they could, hoping to make as much progress as possible before the pari-golis’ spell wore off.
“I can’t go any farther!” Flula called from behind them. “Keep paddling and stay safe. Good luck, my petals!”
“Thank you, Flula!” called Leela as they paddled with all the energy they had left.
The castle appeared through the mist for a moment, and Rea’s heart jumped with joy.
But their good luck didn’t last. The pari-golis only distracted the lilies for a few minutes. Rea’s bleeding slowed down, and the blood in the water thinned. All too soon, a cluster of serpent-lilies rose to the surface beside the boat. They snaked and slithered over each other, inches away. In their devil eyes and spitting tongues, Rea saw her death. Brutal and cruel. Desperately, Rea stuck out her arm again and shook it, but merely one drop of blood fell over the serpent-lilies’ heads.
The moment the droplet touched one of the lilies, its skin sizzled and its eyes bulged. The serpent-lily twisted its root-like body out of the water and screeched in agony.
“Watch out!” cried Leela.
The writhing creature leaped for Rea’s face but before it could reach her, its body swelled like a balloon. Then, like a firecracker, it burst, guts, blood and flesh flying everywhere.
“You did it! You did it!” Leela yelled.
“Did I?” Rea asked, dazed. “How? With my blood?”
Unexpectedly, Poppy’s words on how to survive the lake came to her.
...You can be a royal, born with the same nectar that runs through the blood of the Queen, or you can find the right type of magic to conquer the magic of the lake...
Could she really be of royal blood with the same nectar as the Queen’s? Or did her blood have another type of magic that matched the magic of the lake?
Leela grunted heavily, interrupting Rea’s thoughts. She was trying hard to keep the boat moving.
“Let me help,” said Rea.
“No, I’ll paddle. You call for the Ceffyldwer and fight the monsters.”
“All right. Recite with me, then.”
As Rea and Leela chanted the poem, the
lilies rose. Their faces glistened, and their fangs dripped with hunger. Rea and Leela flung the remaining paddle into the water, giving them something other than the boat to chomp on. In seconds, there was nothing left of it. Watching the snapping jaws come closer, Rea and Leela crawled into each other’s arms, crying and reciting the poem.
The boat cracked. The water rushed in.
Rea looked at Leela.
She had failed her. She had failed everyone.
Chapter 19
The Most Ordinary of Doors
“Kick your feet,” shouted Rea, as the serpent-lilies circled them, their slimy, scaly skin glistening in the moonlight. The little remaining blood from her wound bled into the water, keeping the lilies away.
“Help!” cried Leela, splashing to stay afloat and gulping in mouthfuls of water. She didn’t know how to swim. Rea dove underwater and grabbed her by the waist, trying to pull her toward the surface.
Water stung Rea’s eyes.
Kick!
She moved upward.
Kick again!
The water entered Rea’s nose and ears. She used every ounce of strength to swim back to the surface and coughed out cold, mossy liquid as she searched for the castle. She had to save Leela no matter what. Kicking with whatever energy she had left, Rea pulled Leela through the choppy waters. If she could get her to the shore, she didn’t care what happened to herself. Rea kicked again, her arms and legs aching with exhaustion.
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning splintered across the sky, blinding her. Seconds later, thunder roared.
Then the night shook.
Rea looked up.
A beast, black as a bat, with fire-golden eyes, flew through the clouds, flapping its massive, gold-feather-tipped wings. With a mountainous splash, it nosedived into the lake and rose up through the water with Rea and Leela on its mammoth back. Leela clung to Rea and Rea clung onto the creature’s horns, holding on for dear life. As they soared above the deadly waters, Rea saw Flula flying into the woods and disappearing into the trees. Rea was glad that she had escaped to safety.
With a quick and smooth descent, the Ceffyldwer landed onto the sandy shores of the Queen’s castle and Rea and Leela slid off his back. Rea looked up at the giant stone structure, dark and foreboding, and at the equally terrifying creature who had saved them. She didn’t know where to begin. Both took her breath away to the extent that not a single coherent word formed in her head or mouth.
The Ceffyldwer was a blend of horse, bird, and antelope. Unfurling his wings, he shook off the water in a downpour of rain. His feathery tips glittered like drops of honey catching the moonlight.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Leela ran her fingers over his long, slender neck.
Two spots of blood oozed from her left calf.
“Are you feeling okay?” Rea asked, searching for signs of coagulating blood.
Leela gazed at the Ceffyldwer as he nuzzled her leg.
“Thank you for saving us,” she said.
His spiral horns extended high above his head and his striped wall-like flank rippled in gold whenever he moved or flexed. Rea nervously approached the winged beast. His muscles relaxed under her touch and for some reason—perhaps that he had saved their lives—she forgot her fears and wrapped her arms around him.
The Ceffyldwer turned to Rea’s bloodied arm and Rea felt her heartbeats evening out. The warm breath of the animal and the care with which he looked at her comforted her. Dipping his head, he ripped off the edge of Rea’s petal-tunic and placed the fabric on her bleeding wound. Wordlessly, Rea tied it around her arm.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
The Ceffyldwer turned his head and nuzzled her. An unexpected emotion surged through Rea and a single sentence appeared in her mind as if she had thought it herself.
Thubian is my name.
She leaped backwards, gawking at the Ceffyldwer.
Are you in my head?
Thubian nodded.
You can understand me?
Aye. Your love for your brother and your determination to save your friend in the face of death makes you a worthy Ceffyl-rider. I am proud to be bonded to you.
A smile formed around his thoughts, warm and affectionate.
Leela’s going to be mad with excitement when I tell her I can talk to you!
Thubian whinnied a laugh. Your friend’s soul shines of starlight. A true friend, indeed.
Rea glowed with his praise for Leela. She knew more than anyone how much Leela deserved it.
How does your arm feel? asked Thubian.
Only then did Rea realize that her arm had stopped hurting. She removed the fabric she had tied on it and saw that her wound had healed. Barely a scratch remained.
Did you heal me? she asked him.
Thubian nodded.
Can you heal Leela too?
My powers are sworn to protect you, rider. I can heal your physical wounds but not the wounds of your soul. Alas, my powers cannot heal your friend. They are of no use to anyone except you.
Thubian turned to Leela, who was caressing him like he was a lost puppy. Enjoying the attention, he gave her the back of his ear to scratch. Rea smiled and turned away from them, walking towards the castle.
It was nothing like she had imagined. There was no mansion with high spires, large gates and fluttering flags, no manicured gardens like those surrounding old Indian palaces, nor an army of guards to hide from. It was large—very large—but that’s where the similarities ended.
Leela came up beside her.
“This isn’t what I expected at all,” she said in a tired voice. Rea nodded.
The castle, surrounded by sand and lapping waves, did not have a clearly defined shape. Crimson creepers grew over its tall and narrow windows and the undulating façade looked swollen and sunken in places. Under dregs of moonmist, Rea counted twenty-three windows fitted with stained glass of beastly flowers trapped in a whorl of tendrils. Beneath them were bone-colored balconies of the most peculiar design.
“They look like eyes staring at us,” she said, pointing at the balcony walls, which had two circular holes in them. Within their gaps were soldered twisted rods of the same bone-colored material which Rea assumed were placed to prevent someone from falling through.
“That can’t be the only way in,” Leela said, eyeing the most out-of-place component of the whimsical structure—the door.
It was the most ordinary of doors. Small, brown, and plain. And it had a horseshoe for a knocker. Rea looked for another, less obvious entrance. She hadn’t thought it through, but she vaguely imagined sneaking into the castle through a chimney chute or in a barrel full of potatoes. Not once did she think she’d walk in straight through a door.
Leela shook off a shiver and Rea glanced at the roof, looking for another way inside. There weren’t any chimneys they could squeeze into, but there was an owl perched on a turret, staring at her. She couldn’t say for sure, but it looked very much like one she had followed in her nightmare. They locked eyes and it didn’t fly away this time. It seemed Rea had reached her destination.
“There’s no other way in,” Leela said, her breath heavy. “This place is all wall and ivy.”
“Then we’ll have to use the door,” Rea said with a confidence she didn’t feel. She turned to Thubian. “Will you wait until we return?” she asked.
Chewing on a branch, he regarded Rea and the castle and bowed his head. A look of understanding passed between them and he stepped into the shadows, blending into the night. Somehow, Rea knew all she had to do was call for him when they needed to leave, and he would appear.
“All right, let’s get Rohan and get out of here,” she said, knocking on the door.
Within a minute, a man no taller than her chest appeared. His eyes shifted between them and then skirted around their sides. “Who bees you?”
“We are here to see the Queen,” said Rea.
“You bees travelling alone?” His bushy eyebrows flew to his forehead.
Rea slunk a glance at Thubian, who was camouflaged so completely she couldn’t tell where he was. “Yes.”
The dwarf’s beady eyes rolled over their drenched clothes. “What—er—how bees you arriving at the castle?”
One of his eyebrows landed back over his eye and the other crooked higher. A smothered light from inside the hallway fell on the gilded insignia of a tree emblazoned within the symbol of a sun embroidered on his robes.
“Does it matter?” said Rea. “We’re here now and we want to speak to the Queen.”
The dwarf kept looking around as if expecting to see someone.
“Very well,” he said. “Since you bees crossing the lake without—er—incident, you bees granted an audience with Her Extreme Greatness. What bees your business with the Queen?”
Leela covered her mouth and fell into a coughing fit.
“Leela?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She breathed rapidly. Putting effort to make her words audible, she said, “The Queen has something my friend wants returned to her.”
The dwarf’s doughy face frowned. “What bees your names?”
“I’m Rea and she is Leela.”
“Permission bees granted to Ree-aaa and Leee-laa to enter the castle of Her Extreme Greatness, Queen Razya of the House of Flur. I bees Torgar, First Order of the Salient Keepers,” he announced, tapping his chest with his fist.
Rea stared at the dwarf. She had already forgotten his title and name when Leela exchanged a glance with her and followed him through the door. A narrow passage, dingy with the smell of dampness, welcomed them. Rea expected a corridor resplendent with crystal chandeliers and jewel-framed portraits of the royal family. Instead, stout candles in cages hung from the ceiling, making their shadows leap in the flames.
“It’s a castle, not a palace. Built for battle rather than beauty,” Leela whispered, reading Rea’s thoughts. Rea shot her a wary glance.
If the corridor wasn’t creepy enough, its walls were decorated with three dimensional flowers, some twice as large as their faces while others as tiny as pimples, each the shade of a decomposing fruit. They were thick and oily, somewhere between solid and liquid. And they moved. Stems overlapped each other, leaves suffocated under one another, and thorns stabbed into the other’s flesh. Rea elbowed Leela to look and she muffled her gasp.
