The Cypher Wheel

by Alison Pensy

  “The cypher wheel? Where?”

  Aberthol leaned over the table and rummaged through the pages, throwing the ones he didn't want over his shoulder, scattering papers all around him. He was almost done carpeting the floor with Todmus's notes when he found the page he was looking for and held it up in triumph. “Here!” he exclaimed.

  Faedra plucked the page from his stubby fingers. She held it so Faen could see, all the while looking from the page to Faen and back to the page again. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” she asked her Guardian.

  “If you are thinking that Todmus was able to make his portal work, then, yes, I am thinking what you are thinking.”

  Faedra grabbed the grumpy dwarf by either side of his face and planted a kiss on his ruddy cheek.

  “Thank you, Aberthol. You've been a great help,” Faedra said before letting him go. The stunned little man reeled back a step, his cheeks flame red. Faedra turned and winked at her Guardian. “Come on, Faen. We need to go see my father. You're flying,” she said as if she had just given him the keys to the car.

  “We do? Which one?” Faen asked as he turned to follow her out the door.

  “The royal one.”

  “Why?”

  “We need to break Allora out of jail.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Explain to me again why we need to ask your father to release Allora from the dungeons,” Faen asked as they flew high above the floral valley that led to Azran city. “I am not so sure that your father will agree to it. What proof do you have that she is, in fact, Allora?”

  “I don't have any proof. But it stands to reason, doesn't it? If Vivianna is in Allora's body then surely Allora should be in Vivianna's body. Don't you think?”

  Faen's expression showed Faedra he agreed with her assumption. “But that still does not explain why you feel the need to release her.”

  “Well, for one, she shouldn't be there. She's spent far too much time in a dungeon already. I can't bear the thought of an innocent women, even if she is dressed in wolf's clothing right now, being locked up for no good reason. And secondly, I think having her with us may be to our advantage. I can't explain why at the moment, it's just a feeling I have.”

  “Well, let us hope your father has the same feeling,” Faen said as he lowered his charge to the ground outside the huge wooden doors of the castle.

  ***

  “No! Absolutely not,” the king boomed, without giving the question his daughter had just asked a second of consideration. “I cannot believe you would ask me such a thing.”

  Faedra was afraid that might be the reaction she received but kept her chin high and proud. “If you'll just let me explain...” she continued.

  “I said NO!” the king bellowed before he spun around turning his back on her.

  Faedra's expression turned from one of annoyance to one of shock as she took a blow to the stomach and stepped back. Reeling from the pain that slammed into her, winding her as surely as if she'd just been punched with a fist. It wasn't physical pain. It was emotional, and it belonged to her father. She put her hands on her thighs to steady herself before looking up at him again. His back was to her now, his head hung low. She knew that broaching the subject of Vivianna would probably be a bit touchy. She had no idea, however, the extent of which his other daughter's betrayal had hurt him.

  Faen was standing over her now, his hand lightly rubbing her upper back. Faedra steadied her breathing and turned her attention to her Guardian. The worry she saw in his eyes saddened her even more. How could one person cause so much anguish for so many people? Were you born with that potential or was it a learned trait?

  She reassured the man she loved with a smile as she straightened up. “I'm okay,” she whispered.

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, “Yes.”

  There were two of her own emotions fighting for top spot in her head at that moment. One of them she knew inherently was wrong and not her. She forced it back with all her might allowing the other emotion free rein.

  The next few steps she took felt like lead shoes adorned her feet. The overwhelming desire to give comfort was foreshadowed by doubt. Doubt that the formidable man standing on the other side of the desk would accept any. She'd never had the chance to get close to her real father; it was only a short while ago that she'd found out about him. Since then she'd more or less declared herself a recluse until Etyran had convinced her to go on the treasure hunt. Up until that time, she had not allowed anyone near her, other than her dad and her three close friends, the otherworldly ones. She couldn't have allowed her human friends near for fear of hurting them.

  She suddenly had an intense urge to know more about this man. Why now? She couldn't explain it to herself other than for the first time since she had known him; he was acting more like a dad than a king. She wondered what it would feel like to be held by him. He'd never even touched her other than their first meeting when he lifted her chin to examine her features, telling her how much like her mother she looked. His words had confused her at the time but made perfect sense when she found out who she was. Would her body know he was her father if he did wrap his arms around her? Would she feel like she was betraying her 'dad' if she let him?

  Before she had a chance to answer any of her own questions, her hand was resting on the king's shoulder. She couldn't remember taking the steps to reach him but now she was there, staring up at the back of his dark green velvet robes. Her stomach did cartwheels. Was that nerves? Was she nervous?

  She felt the king stiffen under her fingers, his head lifted. Oh, this was so the wrong thing to do. What made her think a king would want to be comforted? Wouldn't that be a sign of weakness? She was just about to pull her hand away and take a step back when the pain he was emanating fell away. It was the strangest feeling she'd ever had, as though droplets of water had broken free and were splashing to the floor. The pain dissipated all around them.

  The king turned.

  Faedra's breath caught in her throat. Her hand fell away from his shoulder as he turned to look at her. His eyes, glistening with unshed tears, stared back at her, his face a mask of sadness.

  “I'm sorry,” she found herself saying. She fleetingly wondered why it was that Brits apologized for things that weren't their fault.

  “None of this is your fault, Faedra,” the king said in somber tones.

  “Yeah, I know,” Faedra agreed.

  The king's brow furrowed at her sarcastic retort.

  “That was Savu talking, not me,” Faedra explained. “I can't always keep him quiet and he's starting to butt in at the worst possible moments.”

  The king's brow went from furrowed to raised.

  What happened next, surprised not only Faedra but the king himself. Faedra knew this because she was suddenly wrapped in strong arms and being held against a hard chest covered in soft velvet. The feeling of surprise from the king swiftly turned to warmth, then love. Overwhelming love.

  Faedra's body went limp against her father. Relief making her legs turn to jelly. The king held her up; he wasn't about to let her go now.

  The softness of her father's robes felt comforting against her cheek; she closed her eyes and breathed in deep. He smelled clean and spicy, much as she imagined a man of power to smell. Then she realized one of her questions was answered. Her body did know this man was her father.

  The king rested his chin on her head. “My dear child, how could I forget the constant struggle you are now dealing with?”

  For one fleeting moment, Faedra wanted to stay right where she was, in the safe and comforting confines of her father's arms, but she knew that was not an option. She pushed herself away and looked up at a warm face that smiled back at her. She cherished it for a second; for she knew his face would harden in the next breath.

  “I have to take her. With or without your permission.”

  Faedra winced as her father's loving energy was sucked away in a heartbeat, just as she imagined it would be
.

  “I will not hear of this,” the king growled.

  “Just come and see her,” Faedra pleaded. “You will see she is not Vivianna anymore but an innocent woman called Allora. Vivianna is running free in Drofoz right now and I need Allora to help me put Vivianna back where she belongs.”

  The king scrubbed his face. He may be formidable when it comes to his enemies, but dealing with his daughter was turning out to be quite a different matter. He leveled his gaze at Faen. “What say you, Guardian? Do you believe that someone else's spirit now resides in my daughter's body?”

  “I do, your majesty. We have been told by a reliable informant that the sorcerer Arawn performed such a spell to lure Todmus into a trap. It turns out that Todmus was once ruler of Drofoz until Arawn stole it from him. He escaped here but not before his wife and child were captured and imprisoned. We do not know exactly Arawn's plan, but it would give us the upper hand to have Allora with us. She knows the realm and Arawn's castle much better than we.”

  “But how is that possible?” the king mused out loud as he paced behind his desk. “I had the most powerful ward casters in the realm seal that cell.” He turned to pace in the opposite direction, took a sharp intake of breath and stopped dead. The breath he held released slowly through his nose, his lips pursed together in a tight straight line. He closed his eyes.

  “What is it?” Faedra asked.

  He opened his eyes to look at his daughter. “I think I know how he did it. Urgh, how could I be so incompetent?” He brought his fist down on the desk.

  Faedra and Faen exchanged glances.

  “The mirror, it must have been the mirror. I didn't think to have the items inside the cell warded, just the cell itself.”

  “You can do that through a mirror?” Faedra asked Faen.

  “You can do most anything through a mirror,” Faen answered.

  “Really? Well, you learn something new every day.”

  The capricious tone in her voice prompted the king to swap a questioning glance with Faen.

  Faedra noticed. “Look, I can't help what comes out of my mouth right now. Just ignore the stuff that's inappropriate, okay?”

  “Very well,” the king said, grabbing a bunch of heavy iron keys from his desk draw.

  Faedra chewed on her lip. “There is one more thing,” she said.

  The king looked at her. When she didn't respond immediately he raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

  Faedra thought it best if she just blurted it out. A bit like ripping off a Band Aid. “Faen asked me to marry him and I, err, said yes.”

  The king looked from his daughter to her Guardian, regarding him with warm approval, much to Faedra's surprise.

  “It was only a matter of time, I suppose,” the king said. He returned his gaze to his daughter. “He is a fine choice, my child. You have my full blessing.”

  Faedra gave her shoulder a nonchalant shrug. “Well, I wasn't asking for it, but thanks, anyway.” She instantly averted her eyes to look at her boots, heat rising in her cheeks. “Sorry,” she said to the floor.

  The king dismissed her faux pas and addressed the Guardian. “Faen, you will make my daughter a fine consort. It will, of course, be up to her if she wishes to give you the title of king.”

  Faen inclined his head and followed his gracious acknowledgment with a bow.

  The king held up the keys and gave them a little shake. “Shall we?” he said as he made his way towards the door.

  Faedra's brow was creased as she watched her father leaving the room and turned to Faen. “What does he mean? It's up to me if I give you the title of king.” Faen avoided her piercing gaze. “To do that I'd have to be...” Her eyes widened as she sucked in sharp breath. “No!” she gasped. “Oh, that is so not happening.” She turned and called after her departing father who had just rounded the doorway and disappeared from view. “Father, hold on a minute.”

  She took off after him. Faen followed close on her heels.

  “What did you just say?” Faedra asked, as she caught up to her father.

  “I was merely expressing that when you are queen it will be your choice if you wish to name Faen king,” the king explained without breaking stride.

  “What? No, uh-uh. That's so not going to happen,” Faedra blustered.

  The king replied with a sideways glance and a rueful smile. “What? That you will become queen or that you will not name Faen king?”

  Faedra shook her head in confusion. “Wait,” she said, striding backwards so she could face the man who had just dropped yet another bombshell on her already crater ridden existence. “No, you can't do this.”

  The king raised a sleek eyebrow.

  “Alright then. I can't do it,” Faedra said, panic written all over her face as she continued walking backwards in front of him.

  Sweat beaded on the king's forehead and he tore his eyes away from his daughter's and looked around the corridor. “I have never noticed it be this warm in this part of the castle before,” he pondered.

  Faedra couldn't take anymore.

  “Stop!” Faedra put a hand out. Both Faen and the king came to an abrupt halt.

  The king's shocked expression turned to Faen, then to his daughter when he tried to push forward but was held back by an invisible barrier. Faedra was just relieved she hadn't blown them both to smithereens.

  She likened using her new found powers to one of those multi-colored biros, the ones that held four different colors in the chamber. To use a specific color you had to press down the corresponding tab at the top of the pen, and, voila, your biro changed from blue to red ink in one click. That's how she was teaching herself to master the use of her powers, she just wasn't one hundred percent sure, as yet, which power corresponded to which color in her internal biro.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” she exclaimed, now that she'd had his full attention.

  “Savu talking again?” the king asked at her outcry.

  “No, uh-uh. That was all me.”

  The king leveled a reproving look at his daughter.

  “Oh, don't look at me like that. What am I supposed to say? I can barely manage to run my own life. How do you expect me to run an entire realm?”

  “Faedra, I am not asking you to take over tomorrow, but the responsibility of this realm will eventually lie on your shoulders,” the king said. “It is time you started preparing yourself for that fact.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?” Faedra could hear the pleading in her voice.

  “My dear child. I am not doing anything. It is just the way of things.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since your sister decided she would see the realm destroyed.”

  Faedra's subtle nod conceded he had a good point. Her country had a monarchy; she knew how this stuff worked...sort of.

  Eyes still pleading she insisted. “But you're going to live for a long time yet, though, aren't you?”

  The king chuckled. “That is my intention.”

  “I mean, you guys live for ages, don't you?”

  “Yes, my dear. We do.”

  “So I won't have to do any realm ruling for a very, very long time, will I?”

  “I hope not.”

  Faedra wasn't quite sure how to take that last remark but decided to let it go. She dropped her head and relaxed her shoulders a little, huffing out a sigh of relief as she did.

  “Now, if you would like to let us free, I believe you require me to release a prisoner.”

  Heat rose in her cheeks and she closed her palm. “Oh, yes, of course. Sorry.”

  “No need, my dear. That is quite a useful power to have,” the king patted her on the head as he passed.

  Faen fell in step beside her as they carried on down the corridor behind the king.

  “When are you guys going to stop dropping bombshells on me?” Faedra asked him.

  He gave her a warm smile and laced his fingers through hers, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Do not fear, Faedra. I will b
e with you every step of the way.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled before resting her head on his shoulder enjoying the feel of it bobbing against his muscles as they continued towards the dungeons.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Faedra could smell the air change as they made their way down the stone stairway to the dungeons. It was becoming dank and musty. When they got to the bottom of the narrow stone staircase, the king nodded to the guards who stood on either side of the entrance to the dungeons. A torch burned on both sides of the archway, but it did little to light up the all-encompassing gloom that devoured this part of the castle.

  The guards acknowledged the king and uncrossed their weapons, holding them straight to their sides allowing the king, Faedra, and Faen to pass.

  Faedra looked behind her as the king led them deeper into the belly of the castle. The guards had already crossed their weapons back in front of the archway. Faedra couldn't imagine that this dungeon had needed to be used much in Azran; the realm seemed such a peaceful place. The dungeon, however, was no less intimidating than the one in Arawn's castle. Thankfully, all the cells she passed, thus far, were empty.

  As they walked further towards the end of the dungeons, Faedra could feel her father's energy shift. He was shutting his emotions off as effectively as if he had flicked a switch or turned a knob. Faedra wondered how much training it had taken to learn that trick and made a mental note to ask her father to teach her. If she could shut down her emotions at will, her power would be a lot more controllable.

  The king stopped abruptly just short of the last cell.

  Faedra shivered. She looked up at her father. His features were as hard as marble; the energy he expelled was frigid. It was clear that even if another soul did inhabit Vivianna's body, he had no intention of laying his eyes on her. The pain was too great.

  “This is as far I go,” he said, holding out the keys for Faedra. “I hope you are right about this. I doubt I need to remind you how disastrous it could be if you are wrong.”