After we turned down a quiet street, one of the palace mages approached us. Rowan updated the mage about the missing villages of Changed Ones. I joined in, explaining what I’d seen in my vision with the Lady and Sire—how Viktor had prepped those poor Casters to turn into a deadly army. I just finished recounting my sad news when I spotted Jicho. The boy sat in a small alley between two rows of clay houses. He wore his red Seer robes and pushed a stick around in the dirt between his legs.
I stood on tiptoe and whispered in Rowan’s ear. “I found Jicho.”
Rowan cupped my cheek with his warm palm. “Go check on him, will you? We’re almost done here anyway.”
“Agreed.” After saying my goodbyes, I rushed up to the alley’s entrance.
“Jicho! Rowan and I have been looking for you!”
Usually, Jicho would respond with a grin and a gap-toothed smile. His happy face—combined with the shaved head that marked him as a Seer—somehow always made him seem younger than his nine years.
But there was no smile to greet me this time. Jicho merely looked up at me, shrugged, and went back to pushing a stick through the dry soil.
I glanced over to Rowan. He was still deep in conversation about what spells they could cast to find the lost Changed Ones. It didn’t seem necessary to pull him away. I stepped into the deserted passage and sat down beside the boy. “What’s wrong, Jicho?”
“Nothing.”
“Is that true? Normally, you’re far happier to see me.”
Jicho kept staring at the ground. “Sometimes, I wish I weren’t a Seer.”
“Have you had a vision? Something bad?”
“Yes.” Jicho’s voice cracked. “Worst one yet.”
“I’m so sorry. Can you talk about it?” Sometimes Jicho could tell me everything about a vision. Other times, he needed to wait until a certain thing was said or done before he could share anything.
“No.” Jicho jabbed at the ground with extra force. “Can’t tell you.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
Jicho finally looked up to me, and I saw an old soul look out from his young eyes. “You must promise me one thing.”
“Go on.”
“If someone ever asked you to stop speaking to me, swear that you’d never take that vow.”
I frowned. “Is this part of your vision?” What situation would possibly arise where I’d be asked to refuse Jicho’s friendship? Nothing came to mind at the moment, but I set the thought aside to contemplate later.
Jicho shrugged. “Maybe.”
“No, I would never take a vow like that.”
“That’s good.” Jicho stared back at the ground once again.
My poor Jicho. Whatever this vision was, it must be quite a burden.
Rowan stepped up to the mouth of the alley. A crowd of villagers stood behind him, their silhouettes outlined by the darkened sky. “Midnight is almost here,” said Rowan. “Almost time to summon Mlinzi and Walinzi.” Rowan’s gaze locked on Jicho. “There you are.”
Jicho forced a smile, but there was no joy in it. “Hello.”
“Do you want to show us your metal boat?” asked Rowan. “There’s time before the ceremony starts. After that, I’m afraid all the children will be heading off to bed.”
Normally, Jicho would have a number of expected responses to statements like this. First, he’d leap up with excitement to show us his new project. Second, he’d insist that he was old enough to stay up with the adults.
But Jicho did neither of these things. He merely angled his body farther away. “I’m fine. I’ll stay right here. I just need a little time to myself.”
Rowan’s gaze intensified. “If you’re certain.”
“I am.:
I slipped up to Rowan’s side, taking care to speak in a voice that the partygoers wouldn’t hear. Not that they could hear much over the music and song. “I’m not sure we should leave Jicho.”
“My brother has moods because of his visions. If he needs time to come to terms with what he’s seen, then it’s best to give him that.”
I hugged my elbows. It felt wrong to leave the boy here. Still, Rowan had known Jicho all his life—and it was almost midnight—so this was the best I could do for now.
The sense of foreboding was still heavy on my shoulders as we headed back to the great cliff wall and its monkey sculptures. Bands of moonlight drifted over the dancing figures. Sometimes it seemed as if the monkey gods were laughing. A moment later, it looked as if they weren’t dancing so much as racing toward us, baring their teeth to attack.
Rowan led me to the base of the cliff wall. “Care to cast with me again?”
“I’d love it. What’s the spell?”
“It’s my role to cast a summoning here. The monkeys might show up without it, but the Casters love watching my spellwork. Plus, I throw in some magickal animals for extra effect.” He winked. “My people have a mage king. They expect some razzle-dazzle every so often.”
I loved the mischievous glint in his eyes. “In that case, I’ll have to add something to the event as well.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
Rowan raised his arms and the Casters around us fell silent. After that, my mate pulled Caster magick into himself, making the veins in his right arm glow red. I did the same with Necromancer power, stopping once the bones in my left hand shone blue. The crowd around us quickly grew to a mighty throng. After all the music and laughter, the quiet suddenly became a palpable thing.
Rowan raised his arms and spoke his incantation.
Bring me the tree of life.
Oh, how I envied the shortness of Caster spells. Rowan lowered his hands. Instantly, a small pool of red haze appeared before his feet. The crimson mist quickly ballooned upward, taking the form of a great jungle tree. Long ghostly fronds arched from the top of the cliff wall to the ground around us. A great tree of life formed from red smoke.
I pursed my lips. “Not too bad.”
Rowan gave me a lopsided smile. “Your turn.”
Now, I knew precisely the spell to cast. Enough Necromancer power had now pooled in my left palm. Releasing it, I spoke the words of my own spell.
Life from death
Lodger from host
Summon jungle spirits
Fill this home with ghosts
A small cloud of blue smoke appeared on the ground. Within this indigo haze, a pack of blue monkey ghosts appeared. No less than fifty of them took to scaling Rowan’s cloud-tree while chattering to each other and swinging from the branches. The crowd let out a satisfying chorus of gasps.
Rowan’s brows lifted. “Well done.”
“Thank you.” I snapped my fingers, making my ghost monkeys turn silent. “We’re all ready for your speech now.”
“Sure you don’t want to join in?” Rowan’s face said he already knew the answer to this question. Once I officially became Genesis Regina, I’d have to give speeches at major occasions. Public speaking wasn’t my favorite pastime, which was yet another reason not to rush into being queen.
I winked. “Positive.”
“In that case...” Rowan then raised his arms once more. “My people.” The silence once again became absolute. “Tonight, Elea and I celebrate the Festival of Monkeys. This is the finest celebration of the year!”
The crowd erupted in a deafening cheer. Every week, Rowan announced another festival the greatest of the year without cracking a smile. How he managed it was quite a mystery. But he did. Every time.
Rowan waved his arms, and the mass of people became silence once more. “Tonight, we celebrate our special role as Casters. We call upon magick to build our world, tap into life, and keep each other strong. At the festival of Mlinzi and Walinzi, we ask these gods to answer our summons to enhance something in our lives. Strong individuals make for a healthy community. Mlinzi and Walinzi have always been drawn to our unique kind of power. Tonight, at the appearance of the Martyr’s Comet, the veil between our worlds is at its thinnest. Now let u
s call out our desires for our homes, families, and people. Let your voices be heard!”
From every direction, Casters begin to call out requests.
“My son is a Changed One. He’s missing. Help us find him.”
“Take the pain from my back.”
“All I need is a small bag of gold.”
“My wife and I hope for a baby.”
Beside me, Rowan cupped his hand by his mouth. “I seek the Sword of Theodora.”
A deep groaning sounded, the unique crash of stone against stone. Orange light glittered over the carvings on the mountainside. Magick was being cast, and since it was orange? This wasn’t like anything we had in this realm. The carvings of Mlinzi and Walinzi began to move as if alive. No question about it: Mlinzi and Walinzi had cast a spell on their carved counterparts. These living images began to scan the crowd.
Rowan grinned. “That’s a good sign,” he said to me. “It means they will grant one wish this year. According to the archives, the carvings don’t always start to move.” He took in a deep breath and called in a louder voice. “I seek the Sword of Theodora.”
I took up the same cry. “Help us find the Sword of Theodora!” As I called out the words, memories flooded my mind. First, I pictured the dolly-mech of the Not-Elea. After that, I recalled my gateway visions of the Sire and Lady. The question tumbled from my lips on a whisper. “And how do we use hybrid magick to heal the gateways?”
At that moment, the monkey carvings stilled. Bit by bit, their gazes shifted until both of them turned in my direction, their eyes glowing with orange light. The crowd fell silent once more.
The representations of Mlinzi and Walinzi began to speak. Their voices—one male and one female—boomed through the deepening night. “Once every two millennia, we hear the pleas of the Caster people. At these great occasions, one request may be granted. This time it shall be you, Elea of Braddock. Viktor will raise an army of Changed Ones. You must stop him with the Sword of Theodora.”
The crowd gasped. All of a sudden, thousands of eyes were locked on me, expressions of terror brightening their faces. Viktor had taken the strongest Caster mages and turned them into combinations of human and animal. Changed Ones. Although we’d banished Viktor into exile, the Casters still feared him stealing away their families. Plus, more and more villages of Changed Ones had gone missing.
In other words, while I was certainly glad that Mlinzi and Walinzi had granted my wish, I certainly did not appreciate the fact that they’d discussed Viktor and his army with the general populace. Rowan and I had been trying to keep our efforts to defeat Viktor quiet for now. No one had known he would return.
Guess that was over now. By dawn, every Caster on the continent would be in a panic over Viktor’s approaching army.
I steeled my resolve. Rowan and I could calm the Casters. What we needed was that damnable Sword.
A series of ear-splitting cracks sounded. The base of the cliff wall split. Orange light glistened around the new seam. A thin opening appeared in the cliff base, a passage leading into the darkness beyond.
“Enter our gateway,” said Mlinzi and Walinzi. “Your questions will be answered.”
I laced my fingers with Rowan’s. His hands felt warm and calloused. As a spy, Rowan had entered many dangerous situations like this one. And as my mate, it helped to simply have his love and strength close by.
Rowan’s gaze met mine. “We can do this.”
I gave his hand a squeeze. “I believe you.”
Moving in unison, we took a step closer to the newly formed entrance at the base of the cliff wall. The giant carvings of Mlinzi and Walinzi let out an angry hiss.
“Elea comes alone,” they said. “Or not at all.”
My blood chilled. Facing them by myself? That seemed like a terrible idea. I turned to Rowan. “Perhaps there’s another way.”
“We know the Sword in hidden in two parts,” said Rowan. “It would be hard enough to find one piece without their help, let alone two. And since Viktor is raising an army, we don’t have time for alternatives. You must go.”
I nodded. Rowan was right. “I’ll do my best.”
“You’ll succeed, Elea. I have every faith in you.”
Warmth and joy spread through my chest. Going up on tiptoe, I wrapped my arms about Rowan’s neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Normally, this type of action would cause the Casters to whoop in celebration. Now, we were met by perfect silence. The heavy quiet felt as ominous as a curse.
I broke the kiss. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
Rowan pressed his forehead against mine. “Remember, Mlinzi and Walinzi may be tricksters, but you are more than their match. Necromancers have great skill with word games. It’s not a Caster ability.”
Rowan was working to build up my confidence, and I loved him for it. I wanted to tell him a thousand things: How much I adored him and his people…How happy I’d been these last months together…The way he’d changed my life and made the future something to look forward to. I could only whisper two words: “Thank you.”
Turning, I began the slow march toward the cliff wall. In the growing darkness, I could see the outline of a bright orange gateway gleaming at its base. The Casters stepped away as I walked by, lining up to form a makeshift passageway. An elderly woman reached out her winkled hand to mine.
“Viktor took my grandbaby when he was only nine. Fight for us.”
My eyes stung. I couldn’t imagine someone kidnapping Jicho, let alone experimenting on him and turning that innocence into a weapon. I reached out tentatively, my hand shaking. Our fingertips brushed as I stepped past. My mouth twitched with held-in emotions. I was no expert at speech making. The touch would have to be enough.
I stepped forward. Another hand reached out.
“My mother is a Changed One.”
And again.
“My best friend was taken.”
I reached out, brushing my fingertips against theirs. Suddenly, all the Casters on either side of the makeshift passageway were reaching out to me. Rough whispers echoed through the night air.
“My village has disappeared.”
“Our Changed Ones are vanishing.”
“Protect them.”
“Save us.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks. Crying was forbidden by Necromancers—it was a sign that we’d lost control of our emotions. But I couldn’t seem to stop my tears.
These sad souls. So many had lost friends and family to Viktor, and now I was their last hope to protect their loved ones.
I closed in on the glowing orange gateway with one thought on my mind: this simply had to work. For all of us.
Chapter Seven
Lowering my arms, I walked through the opening the rock wall and entered a dark tunnel. A spine-rattling boom sounded behind me as the cliff face magickally sewed itself together behind me.
I was trapped now. There was no returning to the Caster village.
The tunnel became so quiet, the sound of my own breath turned deafening. The darkness around me seemed almost absolute. I spun about, my footfalls sloshing on the wet cave floor. A faint glimmer reflected off the water—a light shone up ahead. I blinked hard as my vision adjusted. Surely, I could cast a spell for brightness, but I wanted to save all my energy for Mlinzi and Walinzi. Who knew what would happen once I met them?
With every passing second, my vision grew sharper. I scanned the walls around me. The passage appeared to be rough-hewn from a massive chunk of natural stone. For years, I had studied Necromancy at the Zelle Cloister, a place that had literally been scraped out of a mountain by skeletal servants. I knew a carved passageway when I saw one.
I followed the faint glimmer on the water. Soon the tunnel grew brighter. More sounds echoed in as well. I could make out the unmistakable growl of predators, the bright caws of birds, and the low chitter of insects. This combination of noise was something else I was quite familiar with—the unmistakable sounds of a jungle. What better place
to greet monkey gods?
I followed the growing light and sound until I reached another archway. In the space beneath the arch wound lines of orange light.
Magick.
This was another gateway. But to where?
Holding my breath, I stepped into the net of orange light.
For a moment, it felt as if every fiber of my body was being torn apart. Orange and yellow lights flashed around me. The scent of charcoal and blood filled my senses.
The next thing I knew, I was standing in the most unusual jungle I’d ever seen. In some ways, the place resembled the lands around Rowan’s castle. Palm trees stood tall, vines dangling from their wide fronds. Long-beaked birds swooped between the trunks. Insects crept along the muddy earth below them. Humidity and heat pressed onto my skin.
That was where there similarities ended, though. Here, the entire place was colored in shades of orange. There were tangerine-colored birds and bright amber insects. A pale citrine sky arched overhead. Two great orange suns cast a colored glow. The scent of overripe flowers filled the air.
Plus, everything here was sized on a massive scale. The trees towered mountain-high before me. Orange ants skittered by in a neat row, all of them tall enough to reach my knees. I’d never seen anything like it.
For a few seconds, it was all I could to soak in the world around me. After that, a pair of massive orange monkeys dropped onto the ground nearby. Mlinzi and Walinzi. When I finally gave them my full attention, it was with the realization that if these gods wished to, one of them could easily squash me underfoot.
“He-hello,” I stammered.
“I’m Mlinzi,” said the first monkey. He had a deep voice and a long tail that lashed behind him with a predatory air.
“I’m Walinzi,” said the second. She scanned me with wide and compassionate eyes.
“Thank you for agreeing to help me.”
Mlinzi stared me like I was the main entrée at lunch. He grinned, showing a mouth of pointed teeth. “You’ll need the Sword of Theodora and soon.”
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