by Payal Doshi
“We bees turning here,” the dwarf said, halting beside a bolted door. He pulled out a set of rusty keys from his robe.
A pair of guards in full armor stood on either side of the door. One held a sword perpendicular to the ground and the other clenched a battle axe. They wore metal masks over their faces and while the dwarf huffed to get the key to work, Rea stared at their weapons. Like the flowers, they shrank and stretched before her eyes, the opposing blades of the axe fusing together and swelling into a solid ball with spikes. Rea let out an inadvertent gasp. She flicked a look at the guard and spied an evil smirk from the slit in his mask.
Before the other guard’s sword shapeshifted, the dwarf pushed the door open in a dispersion of dust and Rea and Leela hurried down a flight of crudely placed stone steps. The ceiling was so low they had to bend to avoid hitting it. After reaching the landing, they ascended another, shorter, flight of stairs. Entering a third corridor, they went up and down more stairs, all of which were dank and cold. The hairs on Rea’s neck rose. How many passages existed within these underground tunnels from hell?
“Um sir, how much further?” Rea asked, her legs weak with exhaustion.
They had entered the seventh or eighth gutter-dark corridor. Leela’s pace slowed too and Rea held her hand to keep her from trailing behind. The dwarf didn’t answer. The corridor stank of pungent fumes and shuddered with sounds of hammering. Through a gap in a slightly ajar door, Rea glimpsed a roomful of soot-covered dwarves hunched over long worktables and oily candles. A guard in the doorway noticed her looking. He hissed at her and slammed the door shut in her face. Finally, at the end of what seemed like the millionth passage, the dwarf ushered them into a circular room flanked by twelve doors.
“Bees waiting here,” he instructed. Giving a nod to one of the guards to keep watch on the girls, he shuffled back out.
“We made it,” said Rea.
Leela licked her parched lips. “If I wasn’t feeling queasy, I’d be jumping with excitement. I’m sorry—”
Rea shook her head. “You’re sorry? Leela, I’m the one who is sorry. We could have... If the Ceffyldwer hadn’t shown up... Gosh, I was stupid and selfish and foolish—”
“Stop. You’re doing this for Rohan. There’s nothing foolish or selfish about it. And I’m fine. I’m just recovering from the boat wobbling and freakish serpent-lilies.” Leela gave a feeble smile. “I’m glad we’re out of that suffocating maze of corridors and stairs,” she added, leaning against the wall.
Rea agreed and gazed in awe at the cavernous room. Beams of wood curved across it like a tree spreading its branches. Marble statues frozen in pain, agony, and screams jutted above the twelve doors and a potpourri of flowers with prickly centers, thick stems, and lustrous black leaves crowded the walls.
“These flowers...” Rea cringed at the exuberance and ghastliness of one withered-yellow, macabre-red, and burnt-blue floret.
“They look... infected.”
Leela leaned closer.
Whisssssssh!
A chandelier hidden in darkness lit up, sizzling like a small fire. It hung wide and low with rows of skulls and bones interlaced in an intricate design.
“Don’t the dead make for charming decorations?”
The voice was sharp as a knife and luxurious as a sheet of satin.
The dwarf hurried into the room, panting. “Presenting Her Extreme Greatness, Queen Razya of the House of Flur, Ruler of the great and bountiful realm of Astranthia!” He bowed with extravagance, the curved end of his hat touching the tips of his shoes.
The Queen stood in the center of the chamber and Rea stared unabashedly. Her opulent gown flared in the shape of an orchid and as she walked, the flouncing petals shimmered in hues of burgundy and silver. A cloak of feathers of deep aubergine draped her back and resting on her head was a crown of entangled branches, leaves and petals, glistening in black. Her face was perfectly angular with a dainty nose, crimson lips, and teeth as straight as a row of ashoka trees. Her eyebrows, a knitted row of thorns, were curved to perfection and her eyes, a vivid green, glowed as if they were ablaze.
“I see the girls are deaf.”
“Um...” Rea muttered, her voice stuck in her throat.
“I shan’t be here all day. Speak at once.”
“Y-you’ve kidnapped my brother and I demand his release!” she announced as loudly as her nerves allowed her.
“Demand?” The Queen raised her contoured thorn-brow and the dwarf squelched like he’d eaten a sour grape. “Alas, I loathe unfortunate manners.”
She raised her forefinger and a flash of electric light screeched through the air. Leela was lifted off the ground and Rea screamed. She jumped to pull Leela down, but she was out of reach. Coughing and sputtering, Leela tried to rid the invisible bind around her neck, her face turning purple as the Queen’s magic cut off her breath.
“I’m sorry, I take back my words!” Rea cried. “I beg you, please release my friend. Torture me, if you want to. Please let her go!” Rea trembled, and the Queen lowered Leela to the floor.
Leela stood up slowly. Rea could see her eyes were blurry, her face pasty. She reached out and held Leela, knowing she would fall without support. The dwarf scurried towards them with a lavishly carved stool and Rea lowered Leela onto it.
“Thank you,” she murmured to the dwarf. He looked at her in surprise, as if no one had thanked him for anything in a long time. With a brisk nod, he turned and walked swiftly back to his station by the door.
Leela turned to her in gratitude. “Don’t worry about me,” she whispered. “Go get Rohan.”
Rea walked towards the Queen nervously. “T-thank you for your mercy, Your Highness—”
“GREATNESS!” croaked the dwarf. “Your Extreme Greatness!”
“Oh, sorry!” Rea said. “Your Extreme Greatness, I’ve come to rescue my brother. I know he’s imprisoned in the Cellars.”
“Imprisoned?” The Queen’s face turned cold.
“Um... yes… he is… um… isn’t he—er—here in the castle?” Rea’s resolve was shattering to pieces. The tirade of insults she had rehearsed countless times evaporated on her lips and she was a mumbling mess. What had she been thinking? The Queen would hand Rohan over because she told her to? Her tears threatened to spill.
“Indeed, he is,” stated the Queen, surprising Rea. “But I shan’t allow crude words such as ‘kidnapped’ and ‘imprisoned’ to be used when he was brought here to fulfil his duty.”
Words failed Rea. What duty is she talking about?
The Queen lowered her chin and her cold, moss colored eyes pierced her. “Would you like to see him?”
Rea couldn’t believe her ears.
“YES!” she answered, a little too loudly.
Chapter 20
There Bees Danger
The Queen twirled her fingers and strings of rainbow-colored light flew from their sharpened tips, forming a diaphanous orb. Within it, images started to take shape.
A ribbon of steps plunging into the belly of the castle. Wisps of moonlight floating in its shadowy depths. Green-flamed candles lining a passage with time-worn walls. At its end, an arched stone entrance.
The image trembled like a nervous hand.
Skeletal prisoners on either side of the passage banged the iron bars of their jail cells, hooting and whistling. A woman with bedraggled hair and yellowed teeth shot out her hand to grab someone. She cackled as her chained legs slid across the floor.
Rea’s heart beat wildly. Are these the Cellars of Doom?
A lizard-man with wing-shaped ears snarled at the prisoners, his skin shimmering a blackened-blue. The prisoners shrank away, crawling back to their corners. His fiery-red eyes with diamond pupils bore into them, his lids swiping across them like a sliding door. With a final look, the lizard-man turned and halted beside a jail cell. The cell was scant. A broken sink stood beside a cot woven in coarse, jute-like fibers. On it sat a boy, his face gaunt and his cheeks sunken. He wore loose ra
gs the color of potatoes and on his feet were wooden clogs with chains around his ankles. He was reading a book embossed with the words ‘The Covenants of Astranthia.’ Shaking his head in anger, he flung the book against the wall. Rags were wrapped around his wrists, and rust-colored blood seeped through the cloth. Plates of untouched food lay in the corner.
It was Rohan.
Fear tore into Rea as desperation clung to the walls of her heart.
“Can I t-talk to him?” she pleaded.
“Interactions with prisoners are forbidden I’m afraid,” the Queen said. “However, there is a condition you can fulfil to secure his release.”
“Anything!” exclaimed Rea. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
A sugary smile cut across the Queen’s face and with a flamboyant twirl of her fingers, she peered into the orb again.
A beautiful hibiscus appeared. Its color was that of a deep ocean—blue, twinkling, and pure. Every vein in its petals, every groove in its stamen, every fuzz in its pollen could be seen with the clearest of detail. The flower, infused with magic, throbbed like a living heart. Then, just like that, two petals dissolved to dust while a third fell to the bottom.
“As you can see, the Som, our sacred flower, is bereft of three petals. Two perished in wars and the other hides somewhere in the realm. Only two petals remain. Find me the lost petal and I shall set your brother free.”
The Queen’s manner was calm as she issued her caveat. But her exquisite burgundy gown changed hue, staining the edges of her dress black.
Thinking she could retrieve the fallen petal from inside the orb, Rea reached into it to pick it up, but the image of the flower and the petal cracked like a bad TV connection, disappearing altogether for a moment before appearing again. It was an illusion, she realized. A trick of magic. The real flower and its missing petal were somewhere in Astranthia.
“C-Can’t you use your magic?” she asked the Queen. The only place she knew how to get to in Astranthia was the market road, and that was because she had portaled straight onto it. “Couldn’t it help you find the petal?”
Scorn stretched across the Queen’s face and Rea’s tongue flopped out of her mouth, swollen like a fat, slimy, overgrown slug. Leela mewled with whatever little energy she had left, and Rea choked.
“Nthaw thaoop thussh thheuuush thuuhmp!”
“I caution you against telling me what to do,” the Queen said, her eyes narrowing to slits. Her cape fluttered under an invisible draft and its shivering feathers resembled a thousand scolding fingers.
Rea stumbled in fear, trying hysterically to stuff her tongue back into her mouth. Leela began to cry.
“The choice is simple,” the Queen continued. “Fulfill the condition or never see your brother again.”
Rea nodded profusely. At this point, she was willing to do anything to stop her tongue from swelling any further. The tension eased out of the Queen’s face and Rea’s tongue shrunk back to normal size.
“I’ll do it!” gasped Rea. She sucked on her tongue to ensure it was intact. “I’ll find the petal! But please, please tell me where I should start looking for it.”
“Well...”
The sacred flower within the orb morphed into an image of Xeranther and Flula walking down the market street.
“You’ve made some friends, haven’t you?” the Queen said, her bejeweled fingers glinting under the light of the orb.
Rea’s heart sank. Xeranther and Flula’s lives were officially in danger. She glanced at Leela to ask her what to do, but she looked so drained, she could barely sit up straight. Rea thought about the piece of skirt stuck on the serpent-lily’s fang and the spots of blood on Leela’s leg. She was certain the lily had bitten her.
“And there is your nectar, of course,” the Queen said.
“My n-nectar…?” Rea asked, her voice smaller than a mouse’s squeak. She was trying to focus on the Queen’s words while simultaneously making sure Leela was breathing.
“Yes, your nectar,” she repeated. “Don’t you know what that is?”
Rea was terrified the Queen would get upset if she didn’t know what her nectar was and put a spell on another part of her body. Her tongue was back in working condition, but her heart hadn’t recovered yet. Right now, it was thumping so fast, it was about to burst out of her chest.
Not knowing what to say, Rea kept silent. The Queen sighed and the image in the orb changed once again. Rea peered into it.
Amma and Bajai were sitting on throne chairs. Bajai was dressed in a gown of crimson and teal leaves laced with pearls of dew drops. On her head she wore a crown similar to the Queen’s, only smaller and golden. An outfit of blush-pink petals swathed Amma and a silver tiara of petal and leaf sat amidst her dark, rich curls. They were both younger. And smiling.
Rea stopped breathing. A thousand questions exploded in her mind, each detonating parts of her soul.
“Ah, I see they did it to you as well,” the Queen smiled.
“D-id what?” Rea managed to say, the ground underneath her starting to tremble. She looked around, but everyone else’s balance seemed fine.
“They lied to you. Kept secrets. Treated you like a child who has no mind of her own.”
Rea couldn’t bear to look the Queen in the eye, nor could she tear her eyes away from the image of Amma and Bajai dressed as royals.
“You and I have blossomed from the same seed, dear niece. Rules, secrets, lies—they stifle us.” The Queen curled her long fingers around her slender neck to illustrate her words. “We can’t be forced to live our life in accordance to someone else’s whims. We make our own rules, mark our own way, get what we want...”
The reality of the truth numbed Rea. Pain, anger, and sadness quarreled within her, turning into a jumble of emotions too heavy for her heart to bear. Thoughts failed to guide her, and the Queen’s words rolled away like a pack of marbles, scattering into the dark corners of her mind.
All except one word. It stayed put, glaring at her, rooting her in the present.
Niece.
Rea had had her suspicions ever since Poppy mentioned the royal children, but hearing it being confirmed as the truth shook her to her core. The ground, already trembling, cracked beneath her feet and Rea’s soul teetered. She stared at Amma and Bajai in the orb. How could they hide something like that?
“Mother and Keona know how to keep a secret, or should I say, spin a lie,” the Queen said, her voice full of contempt. “I see my words are causing you pain, but it is time someone drew you out of the darkness and into the light to hear the truth. I am your aunt, dear one. Your mother Keona’s older sister. Daughter of your grandmother, the now deposed Queen Yuthika of the House of Flur. Being the first-born, it is your brother Raohan’s duty to sacrifice his blood on the sacred flower to keep Astranthia’s nectar flowing. Had I not brought him to perform his obligation, your mother and grandmother would have left Astranthia reeling with another lost petal, putting the lives of this land’s inhabitants in greater peril. Don’t be fooled, dear niece. They knew this day would come.”
A viscous emotion, thick with betrayal, flowed through Rea. Amma had blamed her for what had happened to Rohan. She told Rea this was all her fault because they had played a harmless game on their birthday and had convinced her to take the blame for losing him. Even Bajai, who Rea believed to be on her side, had punished her by lying. How could they have treated her this way? Lied, blamed, and guilted her into believing it was her fault when it was theirs? Did they not care for her at all?
And honestly, did they even care for Rohan? Rea thought back to all the times they had pampered and praised him. Had they known, this whole time, that he would wind up here? Rea remembered how Amma acted like Rohan was never coming back the second they found out he was missing. She remembered Amma crying and saying he was taken, and how she didn’t call the police because she knew they wouldn’t be able to help them.
Rea’s fingers rolled into a fist and she willed her knees to keep her standing
.
Amma and Bajai had always known what had happened. Rea’s head spun. If they knew Rohan was here, why hadn’t they come to rescue him?
Breathe, she instructed herself. Keep breathing.
A strange kind of courage came over Rea. A courage pushing its way up from the despair wracking her gut.
She had come this far without any help from Amma or Bajai. She didn’t need them, or their lies.
She had come here for her brother and she wasn’t going to lose her chance at saving him because her mother and grandmother were too cowardly to face the truth and fight for him.
“If Rohan is a prince, why have you locked him in a prison?” Rea asked, raising her voice to sound brave. It still quivered and she hoped no one heard it.
Green fire burst from the Queen’s fingertips and she doused it by closing her fist.
“Because I cannot trust Mother or Keona. In their greed, they might try to take him away, ruining the future of Astranthia. They’re caught up in their tiny lives and don’t care for what will become of us, of the very land that birthed them, of the very people who worshipped them. They aren’t like you and I, Raelia. They live for themselves, hurting those close to them, not caring that we are family or of one blood—the blood of the nectar, no less.”
Rea hadn’t missed that her real name was Raelia just as her mother’s real name was Keona and not Kunjan and Rohan’s name was Raohan while Bajai was Queen Yuthika of Astranthia. But what she still could not understand was this ‘nectar’ the Queen kept speaking about that seemed to hold such importance.
“What is the blood of the nectar?” she asked.
The Queen closed her eyes. When she opened them, she looked crestfallen.
“Raelia, Princess of Astranthia, you have the magic of the nectar flowing within your veins. It is the blood of our tribe; the brothers and sisters of the nectar, and you, young and untarnished by life, are blessed with its untamed powers.” The Queen’s voice was as tender as the song of a koel.
