by Brindi Quinn
Next, he stood over his unconscious brother, stared down, and shook his head. “Heh,” he said. “Quite the family reunion.”
With that, he started rummaging though Gershaw’s pockets, and I moved to the fire to warm my arm. It warmed quickly, but it felt dirty. Gross. Unlike the times I’d donated to Ardette.
Not thirty seconds passed, and Ardette was back at my side. “Got it,” he whispered, holding up a shining gold key. He eyed the reddened bandage around my gouge and added, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. I’ll be fine. Will you tell me what-”
My words were muffled because he interrupted them with hug. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I used you as bait even though I knew he’d be rough. I knew he’d spill your blood, but I chose to do it anyway.”
I’m fine. I promise. At least we got the key. That’s for the eastern staircase, I take it?
“No, it’s for the galley.” He released me and rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s for the staircase.”
What did I say about getting cheeky? I looked down at the commander. “I don’t get it. How’d your brother turn into that? When he used to be with Yes’lech?”
He sighed. “Wait awhile, would you? I can’t take your eagerness at the moment.” He looked at the ceiling. “Are you ready to flare up that storm of yours again?”
“Oh!” I’d nearly let it fall completely. “Alright.” I took in a breath and pushed the song again. A fresh wave of thunder cracked high above us.
Shooting the stupored commander one last glance, we put up our hoods and braved the storm once again.
But we made it out only a couple of feet. For on the other side of the door, someone in an onyx cloak tackled me, pushing me onto the muddy ground.
Ardette pulled his saber on the Druelcan, but the stranger pulled out a weapon with even greater reach.
It was a weapon I recognized.
In a shaky and surprised voice, I said, “Nyte?”
“Ah! Aura?” Nyte whispered and rolled off of me at once. “I believed you to be an enemy! Were you not exiting one of the cabins?”
Excited at the sight of him, I put my hands on his face and beamed.
“Joy.” Ardette threw him a dose of loathing.
“You.” Nyte’s attention switched over in a rabid flash. In an equally rabid flash, his sword’s sharp edge was at Ardette’s Adam’s apple. “How dare you! I will rip you from limb to-”
“Shut up.” Ardette pushed the sword away and looked around anxiously. “If you’re coming along, then so be it, but stop making foolish quarrel in the middle of a Druelcan camp. Rain cannot mask everything, you know.”
“He’s right,” I whispered. Ardette looked too smug so I added, “You can skin him later, Nyte.”
Nyte reluctantly returned his sword. He reached for my hand, but stopped when he saw the bandage. “What has happened to your hand?” He gave Ardette a look of warning.
“It’s nothing. I’ll tell you later.” I hid the hand in my sleeve. “More importantly, how did you get out of that pipe?”
“It was incredible! A few moments after you disappeared, that platform began to move on its own!”
Seriously?
“Shitty piece of equipment,” mumbled Ardette, sour at the malfunction.
“Good,” I said, enjoying the irony of it. “Come on!”
With that, I grabbed Nyte’s normal-level-of-warmth-hand and followed a pouting Ardette to the door of the eastern tower.
Two miserable, rain-drenched guards were standing outside.
“Who’s there?” one of them called.
“We’re from the western tower,” lied Ardette. “We’ve come to relieve you. Commander Gershaw says he doesn’t want to put up with any ‘dead weight’, so go have a glass of ale, warm up, and come back in an hour.”
“Dead weight, huh?” The guard laughed. “The commander’s always going on about ‘dead weight’. Already then, Pishta, let’s go get ourselves relieved!”
But Pishta wasn’t so easily convinced. “I don’t know,” he said warily, gripping his lance. “Why’s the western tower sending guys over here anyway?”
Ardette raised a brow. “What? One of those types, are you? The kind that can’t accept help? That’s fine, we’ll just go throw one back in your stead, won’t we boys?” He placed his hands on Nyte’s and my shoulders and started to turn us. “Ha! What a paranoid prat. Not like any of us guards have keys to get in anyway-”
“Wait!” Pishta seemed to realize the ‘absurdity’ of his fears. “Alright, alright. You don’t have to be so damn rude. Come on, I guess.”
“Thanks, guys!” the first guard called.
The two of them hobbled away through the drenching downpour.
“Morons,” scoffed Ardette. He waited until their figures had disappeared before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the golden key.
One click later, and we entered the tower. Inside was a spectacle that stole my breath.
The tower was massive, it’s circumference so large that it would have taken ten minutes to lap at jogger’s pace. It was lit with dozens upon dozens of torches climbing the walls, appearing like miniature suns that reflected off of its metal walls. At the tower’s center was a giant stone staircase, spiraling around and around all the way to the top. There were no lifts here, or so it appeared.
Ardette locked the door behind us and whispered, “You can release a bit of song now, if you’d like.”
I nodded and studied the surroundings with caution. Would the way be clear, as Pietri had promised, or were we walking into a trap?
Nyte tapped Ardette on the shoulder and gestured around the room. Ardette nodded, and together the two of them bounded off around the tower’s floor, scouting the space for enemy presence. I waited silently and patiently by the door. When my eyes had fully adjusted, I noticed that there were what appeared to be blankets cluttering the sleek ground. At least two dozen of them.
Curious as to their purpose, I walked over to one that was close and examined it. It was cloth and black, but when I picked it up, I realized that it wasn’t a blanket . . . it was a cloak. Beneath it lay a shirt and pair of pants.
I looked around the room again and realized that they were all piles – remnants of Daem guards.
The way had been cleared. And the clearer had spared no one.
Nyte and Ardette returned a moment later to confirm the theory.
“There are none remaining,” said Nyte.
“Do you think it was Pietri?” I asked. “What does that mean? That he’s somehow still on our side?”
“Hmph.” Ardette sniffed the air foully. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Be ready for anything, my cherry pit.”
I nodded and started for the staircase, but was unexpectedly stopped by a firm, halting hand on my shoulder.
The hand was attached to Ardette.
“Ah-ah-ah, not so fast,” he said.
“What?” I cast him an annoyed look. “Come on. Shouldn’t we hurry?”
“Hmmm . . . That depends. Care to tell me now what Darch’s little secret was about?”
“Darch’s . . . secret?” I said.
“This is hardly the time to play oblivious. Your sister’s waiting, and I won’t let you move on until you disclose that meddlesome Magir’s plottings.”
Plottings? But then I remembered. Oh, that. On the fero.
“Bingo.”
Ardette was referring to that ‘angel and unseen moon’ stuff.
I tried not to think about it directly.
Ever since Darch had told me his theory, I’d found it a little weird that he hadn’t wanted me to tell anyone else. After all, it seemed like something the others would’ve benefitted from knowing about too, so then why? Maybe, in some way that I couldn’t perceive, they were better off not knowing? Then again, I always hated being left in the dark. Didn’t they deserve to know too? But Darch had wanted me to keep it to myself, so what could I do!? Was that Lusafael thing real
ly even a possibility?
Dang it, Darch! If only the Magir had turned out to be a good cook, I could’ve avoided the predicament entirely!
“I’m waiting,” pressed Ardette, staring past me at the door like it might come blasting open at any moment.
If you’re so worried, then why don’t you save this for later?!
I couldn’t just tell him, could I?
Nyte had been observing the two of us, confused, but sensing my struggle, he now sprang forward and smacked the hand from my shoulder. “What are you speaking of? Is this really necessary-”
“Yes!” The halting hand was back in a flash. “Now butt out, why don’t you? Alright, my angel, spill it.”
Angel? Interesting choice of words.
“Huh!” Instantly realizing what had happened, I clasped my mouth like it might actually be able to erase the accidental thought that had just popped into my head.
“Hm?” Ardette narrowed his eyes. “So it is that. Hmph. Now I know why he didn’t want you to tell me.”
“Why?”
But instead of answering, he only let out a sigh and pushed at my back. “Come along then. I’ve heard enough.”
Uhh? Sorry, Darch.
I was confused, but Illuma was waiting, and at least I wasn’t caught in that awkward in-between anymore. I shrugged at Nyte, who was shaking his head darkly, and together the three of us started up the long, spiraling stairs.
We ascended silently, prepared for any lingering hidden enemies, but no such enemies appeared. In fact, our flight up was pretty much uneventful – aside from one near trip on my behalf.
By the time we neared the top, my legs were tired and the overhead rainsong was weak, but still I fought to remain alert and strong. This would be my greatest test of stamina yet.
We reached the zenith, and the fabled gold-rimmed door welcomed us. It was beautiful and rich and kind of forbidden-looking. Solid and polished, it really did stand out inside of the dreary, dark-metalled fortress.
At the sight of it, the blood within me started to slither.
Strong. Be strong. Illuma might be waiting. She might be waiting, so I have to be strong.
Ardette reached for the handle, and the door was unlocked just like Elder Pietri had promised it would be. Throwing one last nod to Nyte, Ardette gave the door a light push.
This is it. This is really it.
I gripped Nyte’s arm in anticipation.
The door opened slowly, revealing an equally golden room waiting behind. Around its gold-paned windows, drapes of deepest purple hung. Golden metal chairs, cushioned with equally purple pillows, completed a pair of golden desks. Even the shelves that lined the walls were gold, containing ancient tomes that resembled those of Farellah’s library.
At first I thought that the room was empty, but then I saw that there was someone sitting inside behind one of the golden desks.
It wasn’t Illuma. It wasn’t Elder Pietri.
It was someone much, much more terrifying.
Chapter 20: The Mystress
“Boo me! Look who’s come to visit,” sang a young girl wearing a gold dress. On the desk before her was one large, white scale.
It was the same ‘rare child’ we’d encountered in the Crystallands.
“Why, what do we have here?” Ardette sauntered into the room like it was his own. “Has The Mystress’ pet come out to play?” He boldly plopped into one of the chairs. “Does a game of fetch tickle your fancy, kitty?”
It seemed his game-plan was overconfidence.
“Aww, cute,” – the girl stuck out her bottom lip – “a baby dwagon. And you’ve brought Nyte. Lady Mystress will be soooo happy to see him – too bad I have to kill him first!” She let out a cackle. “You see, I knew something big had to be coming when that annoying blue blast sizzled away my guard-guards. I figured it would be better to wait for you here, where the light couldn’t get me. Surprised I didn’t get caught in your little vaporizing spell, songstress of ‘virtue’?”
It wasn’t my spell. But I wouldn’t let her in on the secret.
“Very surprised,” I said.
She continued in a sickly-sweet voice, “To tell you the truth, I’m simply heartbroken that you’d think to MURDER me in my own office. A thing like that-” – in a rapid change of behavior, she jumped up and slammed her fists on the desk – “WELL THAT’S JUST TACKY!” Then she sat back down and instantly recomposed herself. “If a girl’s office isn’t sacred, then I don’t know what is.”
The scale on her desk rocked in the aftermath of the slamming.
Nyte gave me a hidden look of slowly-lifted brows to show that he thought the girl entirely mad. I agreed that she was at least seventy percent crazy.
The girl had shown no signs of attack yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time before she attempted something. I looked around the room and tried to come up with a strategy. It would be best to attack her before she turned into that cat-thing again. If she stayed unchanged, I could hit her with any number of ariandos. The thing was, my strength was already down, so it would have to be something I knew would be effective. Something that would defeat her on the first try. She was within reach of the scale, and if she grabbed it before we got to her, we’d have much bigger trouble on our hands.
I continued to scan the room, and in doing so, stumbled upon something interesting. The wall behind the desks had looked normal at first glance, but now, as I looked again, I saw that there was an outline the size of a doorway within the wall. Next to it was a skinny, golden lever.
This isn’t the top. Ardette, is there another lift or something there?
“Ah, yes,” Ardette said, yawning. It was an answer to my question, but he disguised it as an insult. “I really do miss The Mystress and her gaudy decorating sense. Or wait, did you pick this out? Hm. Quaint.”
The girl narrowed her eyes. “Whatever do you mean ‘miss her’? Don’t tell me . . .” A girlish grin spread her mouth. “Are you one of our runaways? That’s it, isn’t it? Not a very high-ranking one, I gather?” She tutted. “So you’re a lost baby dragon? How sweet!”
Ardette stretched and stood. “Well, we’d love to stay and chat – you know, we really would – but unfortunately, we’re heading to the top to see what it is that you’re guarding. So if you’ll excuse us-”
“NOT SO FAST. We haven’t even gotten to play yet. What do you say, Nyte, old comrade? Shall we RIP him up?”
“Enough of this,” said Nyte quietly. “We will pass through now.”
The girl stood and rolled her neck. “Oh well. You really have become a stiff, haven’t you? Is it this girl’s doing? It was so much more fun when you were all lovey-dovey with The Mystress.”
Argh! Lovey-dovey? I nearly choked. I didn’t want to know the details.
“No,” she continued, “you’re not allowed to go in there. That place is off-limits to you. Boo me! I guess we have to fight!”
She started to reach for the scale, and in response, Ardette pulled out his saber. But Nyte didn’t reach for his weapon. Instead, he said,
“Will you not let us pass, Carn?”
Carn?
Surprised, I glanced at Nyte, but he didn’t pay me any attention.
The girl, equally surprised, jerked her hand away from the scale. “Oh? So you do remember me?”
Nyte nodded and immediately after, a smirk of evil began to cross his lips. A smirk of seductive and convincing evil. At the sight of it, the corners of the girl’s mouth showed hidden delight.
Nyte said, “Although I pretend, I could not easily forget the taste of shadowed flesh.”
This time, rather than just a glance, I twisted my whole neck to examine him – fearing that The Mystress’ song had somehow silently slipped into the room – but his eyes were normal, not even a little murky. So he was himself, but then, was it an act? It had to be, but he was so like how he’d been under The Mystress’ control, that it was hard to tell. Even so, I had to trust him. That was the only thing t
o do, even if it was a little unsettling that he’d remembered the cat-girl’s name all of a sudden.
Carn studied him. “Hmmm. Are you lying to me?”
In a manner more akin to that of Ardette than himself, Nyte provocatively tugged at his collar and asked, “What do you think?”
Despite the circumstances, my neck grew warm.
Carn stared at him a moment, as if trying to decide her verdict. There were three of us and only one of her, but her scale was still close and Nyte was . . . tempting. In the end, she seemed to think he was worth the risk.
“Alright, but you’d better not try anything naughty.” She hopped out from behind the desk. “Come over here, but tell the girl to go to the Daem, and leave your weapon over there.” She pointed to the desk standing opposite.
“I will do one better, Carn.”
He’d been standing to my side and just a little ahead of me, covering me, but he now reached over, grabbed my arm, and threw me at Ardette with a rough heave. Ardette caught me in his arms and pushed me behind his back.
Ardette, I know this is just an act, but how did he know her name? And what’s he planning? And OW! He didn’t have to be so rough . . . .
Ardette said nothing, only watched intently while Nyte threw his sword at the foot of the other desk and slowly walked to the girl.
“You claim to remember me? Well, prove it. What else do you remember?”
“Where should I start?” He pursed his lips, but continued to smirk. “I recall my mekanix training under Commander Far’ir.” – One of his earlier, before-the-black-outs memories of Druelcan captivity. – “I recall RIPPING out a Squirrelean’s whiskers one by one when he refused me malt.” – A story he’d heard from Ardette. – “I recall every word of the song of bondage my Mystress had for me: Gentle mist allowed in.” – Words we’d all heard at the prophecy site. – “And most of all, I recall the day that I captured Illuma Rosh and brought her to this fortress. The day that I lured her from that backwater songstress village and offered her right into Druelca hands.” – The memory I’d shared. – He let out a haughty chortle. “What more would you like, Carn?”
