by DM Fike
“So, Nobody believed that you possess the Child of the Statue within you?” Shivant concluded.
Avalon nodded. “So did Desert Rose. And by proxy, Bedwyr.”
Shivant leaned forward, putting his face close to hers. Avalon had the uncomfortable feeling he could see down into her soul and read straight through to the truth. “What do you think?”
Avalon wanted to tell him about her past magic, but how could she convince him now without proof?
Instead, she said, “I only look like Braellia. I am not her.”
“Indeed.”
“What was she like?”
Shivant put his hands on her shoulders. “Braellia was a vibrant young woman. We are all better off having known her.”
Avalon saw pain cross Shivant’s handsome face. “What happened to her?”
Shivant leaned forward, their foreheads almost touching. “A monster snatched her away from us.”
Avalon opened her mouth to ask more, leaning toward him. Before she could ask a question, though, J.T. burst into the room. He came between them so quickly, she had to sidestep to avoid getting knocked over.
J.T. glared at his brother. “I knew you would do something stupid, Brother. You couldn’t wait fifteen minutes for me to accompany you as a chaperone, could you? You just jump right on board when a woman is involved.”
“Honestly, J.T.,” Shivant’s voice sounded more like a soothing father than a sibling. “You have no idea what we were talking about.”
“I know you are the most lecherous person this side of Mt. Hornley,” he flung back. “Thank Omni I got to this girl before you did something we would all regret.”
“He didn’t do anything.” Avalon face reddened at the implication.
Shivant calmly clasped both hands together. “We were simply discussing Braellia and Nobody.”
“Nobody,” J.T. tightened his grip as Avalon continued to push back against him. “You were telling her how Nobody offered Braellia like a slaughterhouse animal to Kryvalen?”
Avalon ceased struggling.
Shivant eyed Avalon’s gaping mouth. “J.T., these explanations need context.”
“Nay, Shivant, finish what you start.” J.T.’s grip on her shoulder became painful as he warmed up to the topic. “You said you were talking about Nobody, so I’m sure she knows how he kidnapped Braellia from us for Kryvalen’s personal use. A small price to pay, but at least he got a vimp out of the deal. Sadus, the worthless wretch did not even blink when his sister Ladybug died to correct his mistakes.”
“J.T., please calm down.” Shivant managed to free Avalon from his brother’s grasp.
The world swayed around Avalon. “What did you say?”
Her whispered question caught J.T.’s attention. “You mean about Nobody?”
“‘Ladybug?’ Is that what you said?” The only thing keeping her upright was Shivant’s gentle hold.
“Nobody’s sister? Aye,” J.T. said even after Shivant shook his head for him to stop.
Avalon went numb as she made the connections. Nobody was looking for a Child of the Statue, a topic he spoke a lot about. He claimed the cloaked girl in her dreams might be a Child. He had even called the cloaked girl “Ladybug” once. And the topic always put him on edge.
“Are you well, Avalon?” J.T.’s voice wavered.
She clutched the edge of a table. “I-I don’t feel good.”
The brothers took either side of her arm, letting her sit down on a chair, but she barely registered their kindness. She could not push the numbness from her body.
Nobody had been using her, just like Bedwyr.
CHAPTER 32
AVALON FELL SILENT for the rest of her conversation with the Emerson brothers. She couldn’t trust herself not to give anything away, her mind reeling with the implication that Nobody’s sister might have once inhabited her mind. At one point, her stomach rumbled, and J.T. assumed her disinterest stemmed from her need to eat. Shivant summoned Vernal to take her down for a bite to eat.
Vernal led her back down the tower to the bottom floor of the castle, through a few short corridors straight into a lively kitchen. Appetizing and appalling smells assailed Avalon’s nose as she stepped inside. The servants yelled to each other as they chopped over countertops, stirred inside pots, and scrubbed around basins. Dwarf chefs cooked off to the side with metal implements. Fire sparked from their hands as they made surfaces hot for grilling, showing not a hint of discomfort as their bare arms passed through the flames. Workers mopped floors, some using magic to swirl water around in the grimiest corners of the room. Vernal motioned her past a pair of dishwashers throwing soap at each other over the sinks.
“Here.” Vernal pointed toward a table of food. It stretched three yards long, buried in plates of meat, fruits, and vegetables. “Take what you want.”
Avalon’s eyes widened. “Is this just for us?”
“Of course not!” Vernal guffawed. “This is for everyone who works inside the castle—the sentries, the spellcasters, the scientists, the servants. We employ a vast number of our citizens and keep food available even between dining hall mealtimes.”
Avalon found an unused footstool not far away and pushed it to the edge of the table. She pored over her food choices, passing over any meat since she couldn’t identify it. She chose a leafy salad-like offering and a yellow fruit that peeled like an orange. Beside her, Vernal exchanged greetings with a slightly plump but friendly human maid named Kasindra who swept the floor not far away.
“Are the rumors true?” Kasindra asked, pushing strawberry blonde curls out of her brown eyes.
“That Sir Marcus should arrive back soon?” Vernal replied. “Aye, it’s true.”
Kasindra leaned into Vernal, whose cheeks reddened at her touch. “Do you know what kind of mission he’s been on?”
Vernal shook his head. “It’s above my station.”
“Ah,” Kasindra whined, her voice grating on Avalon’s nerves. “I wish you had more to tell me. I love to get the first scoop on Guardian family gossip.”
Avalon ears perked up the mention of the Guardians. “Who’s Sir Marcus?”
The maid’s jaw dropped. “What kind of question is that?”
“She’s a guest of Lord Emerson’s.” Vernal stressed the leader’s name.
“Oh,” Kasindra replied, properly chagrined.
Vernal turned to Avalon. “Sir Marcus is Colin and Symphony’s son. Another child of the Guardians, like Lady Desert Rose.”
Kasindra giggled behind her hand. “Sir Marcus is absolutely smitten with her.”
“Nay, he’s not,” Vernal shook his head. “The two are rivals. It’s been well observed since their childhood days.”
“Maybe back when they were Covert K trainees,” Kasindra said. “But I have it on good authority that Sir Marcus has nothing but affection for Lady Desert Rose now.”
“Covert K?” Avalon repeated.
“The Covert K, Emerged Falls’ most elite knights,” Vernal explained. “Formed originally to fight Kryvalen during the Second Reformation, now they are our best fighters and spies, keeping Emerged Falls safe, training directly under Halicia and J.T. The generals only recruit a few cadets each year, and Sir Marcus and Lady Desert Rose both joined at a very young age.”
“Those two are incredibly gifted,” the maid said excitedly. “They both have their parents’ strong Ancient magic. They’ve outpaced everyone who’s ever joined Covert K.”
“It became a competition,” Vernal interjected. “Who would be better: Lady Desert Rose or Sir Marcus? Thus, the rivalry.”
“But Sir Marcus, ah, such a romantic, like his mother.” Kasindra sighed, eliciting a frown from Vernal. “He has feelings for Lady Desert Rose. You can see it in how he moons over her. His priorities have shifted from wanting to be the best to wanting love. But not her.” Her dreamy expression morphed into disgust. “Lady Desert Rose only thinks of herself.”
“Lady Desert Rose has an incredible work ethic,” Vern
al pointed out, respect in his voice. “She always pushes for more risky assignments, but her parents think she needs to accept smaller challenges first. She has accused them of coddling her.”
“Oh, the shouting matches.” Kasindra covered her ears. “Lady Desert Rose may look like her mother, but she’s got her father’s fiery temper.”
“Did she beat out Sir Marcus?” Avalon asked.
Vernal shrugged. “Actually, she’s been gone for over a year. The generals have been very quiet about it. Maybe they finally assigned her a tough mission.”
“And Sir Marcus has been moping ever since.” Kasindra sighed. “Poor boy. It’s the perfect tragic love story.”
“Every girl’s fantasy,” Vernal grumbled.
The maid focused her attention solely on Vernal. “You know what my fantasy is? A date to the festival. Maybe you could…” She leaned over to whisper in his ear.
The guard’s face mottled beet red.
Avalon coughed and scooted away, not wishing to intrude. She finished her food while the couple whispered to each other. Kasindra left Vernal with a kiss that made his pointed ears twitch.
Once composed, Vernal eyed Avalon’s empty plate. “Are you ready to retire for the evening?”
Avalon nodded, and he led them out of the kitchen.
“We’re leaving the Earth Tower,” Vernal said conversationally. “You probably noticed the five towers when you arrived, one for each magical element, each serving a specific purpose. Think of the Earth Tower as the social hub, the heart of the castle.”
Four humans shuffled past in colorful vests over white shirts. They chattered eagerly to each other, pointing to different papers they carried.
Avalon wondered at their matching outfits. “Who are they?”
“Members of the Scientific Society, Lord Emerson’s personal inventors. He’s crazy for new technology.” Vernal’s tone clearly indicated he didn’t agree with his lord.
Vernal steered Avalon down several long hallways. As they passed corner after corner, Avalon struggled to remember where she had been. They rounded a corner, and a large stone entryway appeared, this one with many humans and Aossi in guard uniforms like Vernal’s. They chatted amongst themselves in smaller groups, yelling loudly at each other.
“The Ice Tower houses military operations.” Vernal raised a hand at a group of guards. “Ho!”
“Ho!” the guards saluted back.
They took more twisting turns, sometimes coming upon intersections with five different choices. Vernal smoothly navigated through it all. People from all backgrounds in tunics, robes, and armor walked past, each of them certain of where they were going.
“This place is a maze,” Avalon said.
“It’s meant to be. When you enter the main doors, you can easily find your way to the throne room and surrounding public areas, but the rest of the castle hallways were constructed as a winding labyrinth. It’s meant to confuse invaders.”
They came upon a second large entryway, this one with Aossi in long robes milling about. Their attire reminded Avalon of the earth wielders at the construction site on the edge of town. Avalon watched one fairy fling open a door with a gush of wind from her arm. Another robed dwarf muttered at a desk, idly snapping his fingers, light flickering on and off in his palm in irritation.
“The Fire Tower serves the most talented magic users in Emerged Falls,” Vernal said.
They finally stopped at an entryway much more ornate than the previous two. Potted plants had been placed strategically under skylights, a finely woven carpet lining the floor, inviting them upward.
Vernal guided her up the stairs. “You are in the Wind Tower now, the tower for guests. The entire tower is carpeted to prevent intruders or spies from listening to the movements of guests in the castle.”
They climbed upward. Sweat formed at the base of Avalon’s neck, and her legs shook like jelly as they ascended. Fortunately, Vernal soon escorted her off the stairwell and onto a landing with three paneled doors.
“Here’s your room.” He unlocked the left most door with a key and slid the door open.
Avalon stepped inside a modest room with a bed, dressing table with mirror and chair, and free-standing wardrobe. Although sturdy, the wooden furniture had no adornments. No pictures hung on the walls. Thick white curtains were drawn to one side, exposing the black night. A simple ceramic chamber pot sat to one side. A plush dark gray carpet blanketed the floor.
“The doors have a special property. Here. Listen carefully.” Vernal threw open the sliding door. “Do you hear anything?”
Avalon strained her ears. “No.”
Vernal nodded. “Now listen again,” he said, this time easing the door shut. A series of clicks emitted from the door’s hinges. “A sneaky intruder would want to open the door slowly, but by doing so, he would alert the occupants to his presence. Only opening the door quickly yields no noise.”
“Between the castle against the mountain, the maze of hallways, and these doors, you guys sure seem worried about getting attacked.”
“We’re a relatively new kingdom, conducting a diversity experiment that has never been attempted before. We can’t be too careful. But don’t worry. Since its founding two decades ago, Emerged Falls has never once been attacked. Between Shivant’s persistent diplomacy with the Ancient Tribes and the legend of the Five Guardians themselves, no one has dared.”
“I guess I should feel safe here.”
“Absolutely.” Vernal headed for the door. “Have a pleasant evening. If you need anything at all, I’ll be outside the door.” The door clicked slowly shut.
Avalon was alone at last.
Nothing to do now but sleep, she supposed. She disrobed down to her underwear and huddled under the covers, hoping that the act of lying down would trigger an instinct to sleep.
No such luck. For hours, her unconscious mind reeled from Nobody to Ladybug to the Child of the Statue, jolting her awake as she went from restless sleep to real worry. When she tried to take her mind off Nobody, Kay would fill the void, falling to his doom, forcing tears from her eyes. Even banishing him would only bring on the worry of how she would ever get home again, which led her to Nobody as her best option, if he was still alive, and the cycle of hopelessness would begin all over again.
Avalon welcomed the sun when it finally crept in between the curtains. She slapped water from the table’s basin over her worn face. For a minute, she thought she saw the cloaked girl—could it really be Ladybug?—staring in her reflection, but that image faded.
“Where have you gone?” she murmured. “Why did you leave me right when I needed you most?”
No answers came, neither from the mirror nor inside her head.
Avalon riffled through the wardrobe and threw on a tunic and leggings. She pulled her hair back with a scrunchy tie she found in the dresser. As she examined herself in the mirror, she grimaced at how her frizzy red hair clashed with the pastel blues and greens, but beggars could not be choosers.
Wind rattled her bedroom window. Avalon hopped over to peer outside. One of the two waterfalls created a faint mirage in the dawning light. Glancing farther downward, she could make out a winding dirt path that hugged the outer walls of the castle, the perfect place to take a solitary walk and think things through.
Avalon threw the bedroom door open quickly. Vernal snored in a stiff armchair, folded into the corner with sleepy red marks on his face. Avalon made great pains to avoid waking him as she padded softly down the carpeted steps of the Wind Tower.
Without an escort, Avalon got lost quickly on the ground floor. She passed helmeted guards, robed magic wielders, and more tunic-clothed civilians. When she spotted a young man with a broom, she followed him.
Her unsuspecting prey brought her into a busier part of the castle. Ordinary people jostled past, ignoring the tasteful art pieces and busts as they crowded their way to the other end of a great hallway. They formed a snaking line of Aossi and humans waiting in front of an imp
osing wooden desk. The desk itself flanked a towering set of paneled doors, currently closed and surrounded by four Emerged Falls guards with spears.
As she watched, a knock came from behind the door, and two of the guards cracked the door and spoke to someone within. One walked stiffly to the oak desk and whispered something to the small woman in a ruffled dress stationed there. She cleared her throat and said in a gruff voice, “Ms. Gertrude Maril, Lord Shivant Emerson will see you now.” A pointed-eared woman with pigtails at the front of the line nodded, and the guards escorted her through the doors.
The receptionist noticed Avalon gaping, quill in hand. “You have business with Lord Emerson?”
“No, not at all.” Avalon certainly did not want to talk to Shivant again. She escaped back down the corridor against the oncoming line of people.
Going against the tide finally brought Avalon to the entrance leading outside. She managed to walk squarely into the courtyard before a guard shouted, “Hey, there!”
Avalon jumped. She had worried she would get caught. “Yes?”
The guard jogged over to her and bent to the ground. “This fell off you.” He handed her a bit of cloth.
Avalon stared in surprise at the broken scrunchy. Her fingers automatically went to her head, and, sure enough, her hair had fallen out of the ponytail. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.” He returned to his post.
Avalon relaxed. She scooted around tarps flapping on the ground, held by rocks, around a stage-like platform. Not far away, people used hammers to erect small wooden booths, not unlike those back at Fantasma. The line of stalls spread all the way to the main castle gate, dotting the cobblestone streets of the residential areas beyond.
Avalon stayed inside the castle walls, searching for that lonely castle path from her window. She swerved left into a crowd of guards. Some trained in pairs, others rode horses, still others critiqued from the sidelines. Avalon decided not to walk through the guards and cut back across the booths to the other side. She recognized the vines of the Earth Tower, square and squat. She walked around the tower until the crowd thinned out, a narrow path forming between the castle wall and the castle itself, barely wide enough for three people to walk abreast. Before long, it became dirt and not a soul accompanied her.
