“Take the stone to shore,” Shanks said. “I’ll stay here and help Sebande.” Before he could hand her the cloak another screech filled the air and the frozen riverbed underneath Nica’s feet heaved like a bucking horse. She reached for Shanks to try and keep her balance.
“Hold on,” Shanks yelled, gripping her wrist tightly so she couldn’t pull away. As quickly as it started, the movement of the ice stopped. Parts of the riverbed were now vertical, where the river had heaved the layer of ice, while others sloped at a dangerous angle. It was almost impossible to keep their footing. “We’ve got to get you to shore.”
They held onto each other, stretching their free arms out for balance as they skated and slipped their way to the river bank. More than once they both went down with a painful thump, landing hard on the ice.
When they reached the side of the river, Shanks immediately removed the cloak and handed it to her. “Climb up to the top of the bank,” he said, then turned and began to work his way back to help Sebande.
Nica checked on Sebande’s progress. Water was now pouring off the falls in small rivers. Sebande was using his daggers, slamming them into the melting ice wall, trying to anchor his weight as he descended.
Shanks was only halfway back to the waterfall when an explosion blew out of the center of the river. The rushing water underneath had finally forced free of the ice overhead which had been holding it captive. Chunks of frozen water flew in all directions and the white spray of water fanned over the suddenly moving river.
Without warning, a long spear of ice broke loose from the falls themselves, calving away and stabbing into the frozen riverbed with a thundering crash. The force of the impact knocked Shanks to his knees. The ice broke apart and another spray of water fanned the sky, soaking him.
A moment later, a shuddering vibration shook the remainder of the ice. The trembling caused Sebande to lose his footing and the dagger he had plunged into the ice slipped free. Nica watched in horror as his tall body swung wide to the right before he plunged in slow motion down the face of the waterfall. Nica screamed as he disappeared into the cold water, a splash marking his entry.
Nica could hear Shanks swear as he started picking his way across the rough ice again. “Watch for him!” he shouted to her. “If he gets sucked under the ice he’s dead.”
Nica held her breath, her eyes straining, her heart pounding, looking for any sign of Sebande. Suddenly a dark head appeared above the water.
“There he is,” she cried and pointed. “I see him.”
Shanks neared the edge of the broken ice and he threw himself onto his stomach. He began sliding in the direction Sebande was drifting. The two young men yelled back and forth but the roar of the river drowned out their words.
Shanks was getting close to his friend, when Sebande’s dark head suddenly disappeared underwater again. Nica cried out in alarm. As she watched, Shanks leaned over the edge and plunged his arms and head into the water.
Long seconds dragged by.
She could see Shanks’ legs moving, trying to brace himself against the flow of the water.
Suddenly, with a burst of water, Shanks pulled his head out of the river, his arms gripping Sebande’s body. Slowly, he inched his way backwards, straining to tug Sebande’s big frame from the freezing water.
Nica scrambled up the bank and left the stone, still wrapped in the cloak, at the top. She whipped around and plummeted back down the steep slope to begin crossing what was left of the frozen river.
She could hear Shanks gasping with exertion as she neared, working to pull Sebande’s dead weight onto the ice.
Ten feet from Shanks, Nica dropped down to her hands and knees and crawled the rest of the way to his side. She wrapped her hands around Sebande’s arm.
“You take that side, I’ll take this side,” Nica cried. Shanks nodded a breathless assent. “On my count of three, one, two THREE.” Together they lunged backwards, pulling Sebande onto the ice next to them. Even in the seconds they rested, Nica heard the ice crack beneath them.
“Is he alive?” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” Shanks gasped. He pushed himself to his knees. “We’ve got to get off this river.”
Nica leaned forward and smoothed Sebande’s black hair off of his frigid forehead revealing a bloody gash. “He hit his head,” she said. Tears formed in her eyes and panic filled her voice as she wiggled his shoulder. “Sebande! Sebande, can you hear me?”
His eyes flicked open and gave her a baleful look. “What? No kiss for the dying man?”
Nica’s jaw dropped then she laughed—a joyful sob. Tears brimmed along her lashes then ran down her face. “Only if you crawl off this river on your own.” Then she leaned down and kissed his cheek.
IT FELT LIKE a year had passed before they all stood on solid ground again. They’d just climbed to the top of the tall riverbank when a groaning screech ripped through the air, sounding like some gigantic beast in a death throe. In one giant blast, the remainder of the ice shards that had formed the waterfall caved into the river. Thunder rent the air as the chunks hit the water, causing the ground to shake. The force of the water was more than the frozen riverbed could resist. Like a catapult, a torrent of water shot out from between the jagged cliffs far above and plummeted down into the river. A painful screech sliced the air as the ice gave way in a final spectacular explosion allowing the water to run free down the center of the river.
Sebande ran a hand through his wet hair, smearing blood across his forehead, and grinned at Shanks. “Now that’s a spring thaw.”
“Not the best time to try and shoot the rapids,” Shanks responded. The corners of his mouth turned up and suddenly they were both shouting with laughter.
Nica stared at them in amazement, her mouth half-open. “Only you two would find any part of that experience entertaining,” she said in disgust.
They were all shivering as they returned to their camp. Shanks built up the fire, and they changed into whatever dry garments were to be found. Nica opted to wear a pair of Shanks’ pants, a rope holding the over-sized waist in place while her clothes dried. They huddled around the blazing fire trying to get warm.
When the feeling had returned to her fingers and her teeth had stopped chattering enough to hold the Stone without fear of dropping it, she placed the emerald plaque on her knees and ran her fingers over the lines carved there.
“What does it say?” Shanks asked. Sebande watched silently from across the fire.
Nica slowly sounded out the words inscribed at the very top:
Those who read these words be warned!
Within the quatrains of the Avedla lies Knowledge
Within Knowledge lies Paradise, Hell & Purgatory
Here inscribed is the key to the great Knowledge of
Getheas
“What does that mean?” Sebande asked.
Nica looked up. “It means this stone holds the formula to know the future.”
f the people of the Narsgededon Forest were aware of their passing, they didn’t make themselves known. Shanks continued to carry the weight of the stone within the lining of Nica’s cloak and wore it suspended around his shoulders. He traded his jacket with Nica so she could stay warm.
Nica enjoyed the feel of the soft buttery leather which carried Shanks’ scent. She was filled with such a sense of contentment as they rode back toward HighGarden that she almost had a sense of coming home.
THEIR RETURN TOOK two weeks and they arrived at the gate of the palace in early morning. This time she rode her own horse. At Shanks’ instructions she had draped a dark cloth over her head and around her face, revealing only her eyes. Even with her garments, it was clear she was a young woman.
“Declare yourself!” Bastille called out, his oversized belly jiggling as he shouted.
“Sebande Vatier and Jonn Shanks. On business for the King,” Sebande called out.
“Ho, Sebande,” the gatekeeper called, a grin on his face. “Looks like you and the
young Shanks have captured another wood wench. Why does she hide her pretty face? Is she cold? Or just shy?” He stepped close and patted Nica on the leg. “Come see Uncle Bastille, I’ll warm you up, lass.”
“Careful Bastille, she’s a wild one,” Shanks warned with a smile. “Her eyes might burn you.” He looked down at the older man. “If she doesn’t kick your teeth out first.”
The man’s eyes widened and he took a step back. Nica had to bite her lip not to giggle out loud as the guard’s eyes traveled from Shanks to Sebande for an answer. The dark haired young man nodded.
“Vicious.”
“Where’s Heathron?” Shanks urged his horse through the gate. “Is he here?”
“In the barracks.” Bastille threw a thumb over his shoulder as he walked the tall gate closed.
“And Becknah?”
Bastille nodded. “He’s here, but the old man has looked pretty bad lately.” The rotund gatekeeper looked them up and down with a hungry look. “Where’ve you boys been?”
“King’s business.” Shanks smiled as he urged his horse forward. “Bastille, you know I can’t reveal our secrets.”
“I was afraid of that,” Bastille said with obvious disappointment. “Seems like you could share a little tale of adventure with a poor old soldier stuck on the gate day after day.” His eyes followed their departing backs. “Adventure and a wild wood wench,” he mumbled with a sigh, kicking a rock with the toe of his boot.
JAANIYAH MUST HAVE heard of their return for she was waiting on the steps above the courtyard as they walked from the stables. Nica saw her first, dressed in a glittering blue gown. Her long hair was pulled back into a tight chignon at the back of her head with a beaded ribbon wrapped around her forehead and woven into the strands. She looked every inch the royal princess. Nica dropped her head, conscious of her own filthy clothes and the ratty braids she’d tucked inside her jacket.
“Jonn.” Jaaniyah called and gave a little wave as she watched them draw near.
Shanks acknowledged her wave then reached over and grabbed Nica’s hand in his much larger one for all the world to see.
“Did I mention how appealing I find women dressed in men’s clothing?” He gave her a wicked grin. “You remind me of a wood wench.”
Nica giggled behind her shroud. “A wild wood wench, you mean.”
Jaaniyah watched their exchange with narrowed eyes as the three of them stopped before her.
“Jonn.” Jaaniyah stepped forward and kissed him on both cheeks then looked at Sebande. “Captain Vatier.” She nodded at him in a prim fashion, for once seeming at a loss for words. She looked at Nica and forced a smile. “Welcome back.”
AFTER THEY’D BATHED and eaten, Nica, Shanks and Sebande joined Jaaniyah in a private meeting room off Jacoby’s library with Becknah and Heathron, who had only recently been informed there were two princesses to protect.
As they were being seated, Heathron stared in amazement from Jaaniyah to Nica.
“Bless the Ancients, there couldn’t be two girls who look more alike than you do.” His weathered face split into a wide grin. “It’s like the Ancients gave us two gifts.”
Shanks smiled at Nica and nodded. “Indeed. Tell us, Heathron—what is the news here?”
“Tarantu has been arrested and we’ve got his closest contacts under surveillance,” Heathron reported. His voice dropped. “And you know about the attack at Pian’glo.” The war minister shuffled in his seat. “Since then, Mosaba hasn’t been seen. The last positive location we’ve had of him was in the Ortawn during the princess’ and Becknah’s captivity. Since then—no word, no confirmed sightings.”
Shanks straightened. “Mosaba was in Berjerac just a few weeks ago.”
Heathron looked at him in surprise. “You’re sure of that?”
“Positive.”
“Then he must have given up trying to follow the path to the Getheas Stone himself,” Becknah interjected. The scholar looked as though he had aged twenty years since his capture at Mosaba’s hands. The old man cast a worried glance at the group gathered. “He will put his efforts into acquiring the Stone through our knowledge.”
“Which makes the timing of Jacoby’s return critical,” Shanks said. “If by some chance Mosaba knows the King is not in residence or that he’ll be returning in a weakened state—that’s when he’ll pounce. We must be on our guard at all times.”
“When are you him bringing home?” Nica asked.
“Any day,” Heathron said. “Thistlewaite has given him approval to be moved.” The Minister of War began a discussion about troop position as well as their plan to relocate Jacoby. When they finished their conversation Heathron pushed himself up from the table, then paused.
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. The most amazing thing has occurred. Becknah and I were just discussing it.” He paused for a dramatic moment. “There’s water in the Great Divide.”
“Water?” Jaaniyah lifted her head in surprise. “What’s the source?”
“We don’t know. We sent some men up toward the Spires to see if they can find the headwaters. It’s quite a mystery.” Heathron shook his head. “Hasn’t been any water in the Divide since the time of the Ancients.”
Nica looked from Shanks to Sebande. Shanks nodded.
“Have you ever heard of a veil of prisyms?” Nica asked the group. At their blank looks she launched into their discovery of the frozen waterfall.
AS SHE CONCLUDED the story of the waterfall roaring back to life without revealing they’d located the Getheas Stone, Nica turned to Becknah.
“Becknah.” Nica smiled at the old man. “How are you faring?”
He lifted a shaky hand from the table. “Fine, fine. Glad to be home.” He smiled at her. “Your story is most fascinating, my dear. Most fascinating, indeed. I will have to revisit the books of the Avedla. Perhaps they speak of water returning to the Great Divide.”
“We have something that might assist you.” Shanks reached under the table and picked up the cloak-wrapped stone. “Through sheer ingenuity, Nica followed a legendary trail. It is through her persistence and fortitude that we are able to offer this to you today.” He set the stone in front of Becknah and pulled the cloth away.
Heathron peered down at the green stone. “What is it?”
Jaaniyah let out a gasp and jumped to her feet leaning over the table for a better view. “Is that—”
Becknah adjusted his half-moon glasses as he peered at the large tablet of emerald green rock on the table before him. “Let me see what you’ve got here—what is that writing…. Looks to be a rather archaic version of—”
“But it can’t be!” Jaaniyah whispered, staring slack-jawed at Shanks and then at Nica. “It’s not supposed to be real!”
Becknah’s crooked fingers lightly traced the etched lines. “Why, this is written in ancient Jarisan, and…other languages,” he said slowly. “Some of these words aren’t even used anymore.” His brow wrinkled with a puzzled frown as he examined the stone further. “What have you brought me?” And what are these symbols? The planets? Why…”
“A war continues, destined to repeat,”
Nica spoke softly.
“Until two daughters, royal born do meet
The time has come to heal the past
Now what you seek can be found, at last.”
Becknah’ face sagged in disbelief. “The Getheas Stone?” he whispered. He placed his shaking hands flat on the stone as though to absorb the very essence from the rock. “You’ve brought me the Getheas Stone?”
Nica nodded with a tender smile.
“The legend exists?” Heathron sat back down in his chair with a thump, disbelief thick in his voice.
A single tear rolled out from under Becknah’s glasses. “Bless the Ancients—it can’t be true.” He slid his hands over and around the rock. “The Getheas Stone?” A smile creased his face as tears rolled into his grey beard.
“Thank you,” Becknah sniffed. “You have changed my life.”
He stood up and held out shaking hands to Nica. She slid her small hands into his wrinkled, crooked fingers. “This proves the texts of the Avedla are messages. Messages from the Gods.” His lips curved in a shaky smile. “Thank you, my dear. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have fulfilled the purpose of my existence.”
He released Nica and held his hands out to Shanks and Sebande. “I suspect you two had no little part in this.” Becknah eyes sparkled with new life. “By the Gods, history is going to come alive before our very eyes. We’ll know what the Gods knew.” He raised his hands skyward and gave an exultant laugh.
IT WAS AN unusually warm winter day, several weeks after their return, that Shanks steered Nica to a stone bench on the far side of the walled part of the palace grounds. They sat underneath the bare branches of a brandyapple tree, looking out over the valley that ran down toward the Great Divide. Far distant on the horizon Nica could see the shimmering green of the Sea of Nephalon.
She’d taken to veiling her hair and her face under the guise of a traveling dignitary, whose religion required extreme modesty, thereby giving her total freedom throughout the palace. It was like being set free.
“Shaun,” Nica said softly, leaning close to him, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” When she was away from others she unpinned one side of her veil and let it hang loose.
“Uh oh,” Shanks said.
Nica frowned. “What do you mean, ‘uh oh’?”
“Well, if you start like that, it can’t be good,” he said.
She crossed her arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A call interrupted them.
“Mr. Shanks, M’lady. There you are.” Becknah approached, huffing with his exertion. Since the receipt of the Getheas Stone Becknah had regained his former vitality and a new enthusiasm. “Young Shanks.” Becknah nodded, then turned his attention to Nica. “M’lady.”
The Midnight Spy Page 29
