The Circle of Six: Emily's Quest (Legends of Eostra)

by Sanders, Dan

  “Are you alone?” She continued to speak aloud to his disembodied form.

  “For the moment. I… just wanted to see how you are.”

  “I’m well. More importantly how are you? You look different. Tired.”

  He sighed. “Yes, I’m well. My master works me hard.” He wanted to tell her what he had done. The guilt sickness he felt at what he had done… He shook his head and said, “How’s Bardolf and Lin?”

  “They miss you… Sashiel misses you. When will you come home?”

  “When this is over, in a few days.”

  Sirakon smiled at the thought. “Have you been following the news?”

  Xavier smiled. He was probably making the news. He flashed back to the ordeal at the Gala dinner. “Things have changed Siri, I have…”

  “What–?“

  “I came to ask you a favour.”

  She reached out before realising he wasn’t there. “And I must tell you something,” she said.

  Xavier looked around to make sure they were alone and said, “A war is coming and the Faoir will have to fight. They must choose.”

  “You know the Exotics don’t get involved in the affairs of the people.”

  “The other Exotics will join the confederation,” Xavier said. “Which side will the Faoir choose, that is the question?”

  “I don’t make the decisions. I’m only a dignitary.”

  “You must influence the council,” he commanded. When Sirakon winced, he said more gently, “As best you can.”

  “Is that what you come all this way to say? To help me fight your battle?”

  He saw she was angry. “No, no. I’m sorry.”

  “What is it then?”

  “I don’t know.” He realised he didn’t know why he was there. Was it just to feel normal again?

  Sirakon changed the subject. “Do you think you will win?”

  “My master–”

  “I can’t believe you call anyone master. Have they done something to you?”

  “No, stop, please. You asked if we will win. Torek is all powerful. The supreme Elemental Gorgos will win. We have… captured… one of the Chosen One’s protectors. We will use him to bargain for the power of the Chosen One. If not, we will take care of her.”

  “Take care of her? Xavier, what in the name of Lagan is going on?”

  “I should have known you couldn’t understand what’s at stake. Forget it.”

  His head pounded with the effort of the Astral projection. His body shimmered in the soft light.

  “Xavier, wait, don’t go. I’m–“

  “Siri, do you think beauty and truth are important?”

  “Beauty? Xavier, are you well?”

  “Don’t worry, Siri. If something happens to me, take care of Bardolf and Lin.”

  “Xavier Morgenstern. Stop that now. Nothing will happen. You are a powerful Melder–“

  “Not yet.”

  “Be quiet. You are courageous and I know you have a good heart. You are like your mother.”

  She smiled at him. He grimaced. He didn’t deserve her.

  He barely heard her last words but cherished them as he faded back across the thousands of leagues to his makeshift camp. They echoed in the night of his mind. “Regardless of the Faoir decision,” she said, “I will ride with you. Somebody has to watch your back.”

  Chapter 41

  Child of Land and Water

  NILAWEN–CITY OF WATER,

  ANNWYN

  The ship was larger than it looked from outside. Three rows of four velvet seats faced the front. Another man, even smaller than the first, sat at the cockpit, impatiently preparing the sub-ship for the dive. Bevan sat ramrod straight, gripping the underneath of his gold framed chair.

  “You nervous?” Sabina said.

  “No, just don’t like underwater. I told you that.”

  “Yes, I know you did.” She smiled at him. “A bit like my fear of flying.”

  “It’s not a fear.”

  “Of course it isn’t.”

  The ship suddenly lurched downward into the silky abyss while Bevan’s belly stayed in his throat. His skin became cold in the cramped cabin, his muscles tensed, his jaw fixed forward in anticipation of when the ship would inevitably implode from the crushing water pressure.

  Sabina was relaxed as she sat next to the pilot and devoured the man’s knowledge on how to fly the sub-ship and the layout of the nation of Exotics below.

  “Remember, I don’t want to be seen,” she said firmly. “Just take us immediately to the Vertu Chamber. Understand?”

  “Ye miss.” The hunched man seemed surprised to be taking orders from a girl with the Prince nearby. Bevan saw the man’s questioning look and with his best royal frown, approved Sabina’s command. The man nodded approvingly and turned back to the controls. Sabina sighed in frustration and pulled out her map. It glowed an eerie green against the black of the smooth sub-ship walls.

  Bevan was cramped and tried not to think about the sea creatures that lurked just beyond the thin ship wall. He closed his eyes. What use would he be to Sabina down here? He should have stayed on the surface. He should have stayed at home. He opened his eyes, saw Sabina’s silver hair hanging restlessly below her shoulders, her strong cheekbones and slender waist, and was suddenly glad to be close by. She turned and saw him gazing at her. He closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.

  Some time later Sabina gently shook him awake.

  “Come see this,” she said.

  Bevan held his arms wide for stability and gingerly waded over to the cockpit. The black in the crystal walls had dissolved to reveal a clear viewing platform. His breath was snatched away with the sight. Past the shimmering sea-beings of all colours and shapes, on the bottom of the sea bed glowed the oval dome of Nilawen, underwater city of the Styx. A rich light-blue–almost-white light illuminated the entire rocky surroundings, and for a moment Bevan had no fear of the deep.

  Sabina’s smile was the broadest Bevan had ever seen, an almost childlike anticipation. Quite casually she slipped her arm through his as they watched the spectacle. His heart beat faster, and little bumps popped up on his arms. He hoped she wouldn’t notice.

  As they neared the edge of the domed city, the sub-ship suddenly dived straight into a dark crater on the sea bed. Bevan grabbed an overhanging strap to stop from falling.

  His stomach flipped again. “Where are we going?” he groaned. “Nilawen is ahead.”

  Sabina explained, “It’s a maintenance tunnel under the city. This is our only way in without being seen.”

  He nodded sheepishly at the sense of the idea. He continued to watch in silence at the rainbow lights of deep sea beings flickered against the inky backdrop.

  They stopped with a thud on the seabed. The crystal hull of the ship scraped against the rock. The stooped man pushed a crystal tube at the top of the vessel against a stone above them, joining them to the bottom of the city.

  “Be carefuls here miss,” he said to Sabina. “The tube is not safe. Climb through the tube, turns the hatch at t’other end. I ain’t goin no furtha. That room you are lookin for is that way.” The man pointed towards the centre of the city.

  Sabina nodded her appreciation. “Wait here for us.”

  “Course miss, of course.”

  The tube was obviously not made for a man of Bevan’s size. His shoulders dragged against the insides of the leaking structure, and the swaying of the current rocked the sub-ship, banging the boat against the pock-marked sea bed.

  The tube ended into an old watery cave. A gush of musty air flowed into his mouth. He tried to swallow to get rid of the taste. Gratefully inside, he brushed water off his robes.

  “I can’t wait for a nice royal bath back home,” Bevan whispered.

  “Don’t be a child,” Sabina said. “I thought you liked adventures and danger.”

  He ignored her. Squinting in the orange light provided by floating crystals he gazed along the tunnel wall.

  �
�Where to now?” he said.

  Sabina hitched her pack over her shoulder and looked at her map. She suppressed a cough with her hand. Bevan saw blood on her fingers.

  “It’s nothing,” she said.

  Bevan grabbed her hand and said, “Blood? That’s something, Sabina. I told you—“

  He heard the sound of footsteps slapping on the wet stone floor. They rushed into an adjacent tunnel and watched as guards with small shiny scales and long webbed feet strode by.

  Sabina quickly wiped the blood off her hands and pointed to the map. “According to the map, the chamber should be a little farther north-east. Probably where the guards were heading.”

  They followed the guards through a maze of corridors. Bevan took note of every turn; left for two tunnels; right for three, right for another two. His Grael training had given him a distinct advantage in mazes. He could tell Sabina was struggling to remember the route back out again. She grabbed his arm as the guards strolled through a locked door. They were speaking a language Bevan couldn’t understand.

  Sabina suddenly pulled Bevan into the tunnel opposite where the guards disappeared. They crouched and watched with shallow breaths as the door closed behind the guards. Bevan felt Sabina’s breath on his neck. He turned to get a better look at her face and saw a faint glimmer of light behind her.

  “What’s that?” he whispered.

  They crawled over to the door. Bevan placed his hand on the stone. He was about to ask the stone to glow when Sabina touched his arm and shook her head. She reached into her pack and withdrew a small crystal. Sabina spoke to it and it burst into a gentle yellow light.

  “Arkana stone. We can focus the light,” Sabina said. “We can’t bring attention to ourselves.” She paused. “You know, I feel as though I’ve been here before. But I know I couldn’t have—“

  “I hate to rush you but—”

  Sabina read the symbols on the door. “I think this is it. I don’t understand much of the Styx language, but I did pick up a few things in my studies.”

  Sabina slouched in the corner and said, “This is the place. It quotes the same passage from the Prophecy. I can’t read any more than that. I still don’t know how to gain entry.”

  “Let me have a look,” Bevan said.

  He held the Arkana stone up to the door. As he suspected he couldn’t read anything, but his eye caught an indentation in the polished stone. He ran his fingers over it.

  “Sabina, look at this.”

  Sabina’s eyes opened wide. She grabbed at her neck and pulled the pendant up to the light.

  “It can’t be—” With quivering fingers, she inserted the yellow crystal ring from the AGate into the indentation. A slight click echoed into the tunnel as the five sided stone locked into place and the door swung open.

  “Company—” Bevan breathed. He hid the light stone under his robe and held his breath. Two Styx deep in conversation strolled up to the door opposite, opened it, and went inside. Bevan exhaled. Sabina removed the ring from the lock and the stone door started to swing closed. They tiptoed into the chamber.

  Bevan held the Arkana stone in the air and adjusted his eyes. The yellow light tinged the room that bulged with artefacts of gold and silver coins and goblets; crystal blades, and scrolls; even instruments of measurement— Bevan couldn’t tell of what— all lay loosely companioned in their tomb of solitude. The coin tinkled as they walked through the mounds of treasure. The stale smell of loneliness covered Bevan’s tongue with an invisible moss.

  “What is this place?” Bevan whispered.

  “Vertu; means rare and precious artefact,” Sabina said. A cough racked her shoulders. She turned her back on Bevan and waved away his concern.

  She continued through a hoarse throat, ”Much of this would be from gifts and from things lost in rivers and seas around Annwyn. They all end up here. What I would give to study this for a year or two.”

  Bevan raised his eyebrows. “Where is the Harp?” he said, focusing her.

  “Don’t know.” Sabina climbed a small set of stairs to the back wall of the chamber. She moved aside a collection of scrolls and uncovered a large crystal throne. “This must be the lost Throne of Lithrael. Apparently one seated in this throne can astrally project to any place on Annwyn. Some even say one can travel unencumbered to the Earth world.”

  Bevan went to sit on the throne but Sabina blocked the way. “You cannot. Every gift of power asks for a price. One has to be ready to be bound by such Lore, if one makes that choice. If memory serves, the tale says that once in the chair, one is bound for life, until another who seeks the gift replaces the one entombed in the throne, or until rejoining ends that one’s life.”

  He was suddenly grateful for Sabina’s studious approach to life.

  A wet footstep broke the silence. He shoved the stone in his robe, and the room resumed its dark orange glow. They held their breaths. Sabina strained to hold back a cough. Bevan stepped sideways, cat-like, to the chamber door and tripped on a protruding stone switch. The floor in the centre of the room twisted open, revealing stairs leading into a dark room below.

  The hall outside broke into angry shouts of intrusion. Wet slapping sounds multiplied in the distance.

  “Get down there,” Bevan yelled, pointing down the stairs. “I will keep them at bay while you grab the Harp.” He threw the Arkana stone to Sabina.

  “We don’t even know if the Harp is down there.”

  “It must be. It’s our last chance.”

  In a single movement Bevan’s Reven blade was drawn and pointed at the entry to the chamber. He spoke quietly to the blade. It hummed and glowed obediently, washing the room in a soft stone light. The time for hiding was over. His heart raced.

  Sabina held the Arkana stone above her head.

  “Be careful,” Bevan said.

  Sabina suppressed another cough and tested the first step. It stood firm. Bevan turned back from the door and saw only the bobbing glow from Sabina below.

  “Bevan, it’s here. Look.”

  Bevan peered down and saw the room where Sabina stood was a round crystal tube. Sabina had her hands on a small harp, its clear crystal engraved with beads of sapphires and emeralds.

  “Wait, Sabina, what does that writing say?”

  Sabina lifted the Harp off its pedestal and said, “What writing—?”

  Before Sabina could finish the sentence, the door above her rolled closed, locking her in. Bevan’s heart dropped in fear. Before he could move, the floor underneath his feet crumbled away in a deafening crunch of sand and water. He tumbled and crashed to the floor below. He shook his head and thrashed off the dust and rubble.

  He held up his glowing blade and revealed he was now standing at the floor level on the other side of a crystal tube where Sabina was trapped. Horror filled her eyes. She dropped the Harp and beat her hands on the glass.

  “Help me,” she screamed. Blood popped from her mouth as she coughed. Medical attention first, he cursed.

  “Stand back,” he roared in Thoughtspeak. Sabina moved away.

  Bevan’s wet hands gripped the mighty Reven blade, pulled it back and struck the tube with two blows. The blade scratched the crystal. The ring from the collision hurt his ears and echoed in a succession of clanging through the damp corridors of their new prison. Sabina fell to the floor holding her ears. He didn’t want to use all his power, in case the shards of crystal and roof rained on her head.

  Panicking, he looked inside the tube for an answer. What he saw made his belly drop and knees tremble. Water gushed from spouts at both ends of the tube. It was already up to Sabina’s knees.

  He heard wet footsteps running in the distance.

  He had no choice. He had to get her out. “Cover your face.”

  With bulging arms and trembling legs he battered the crystal with all his might. His chest was bursting and his legs burned. He heard only his thumping heart as he saw with rising fear the deadly liquid lift Sabina’s faintly kicking body to the ceiling
of the tube.

  “Please Bevan, please. Help.”

  Bevan’s fear gave way to panic. He tried to tap into the unfamiliar stone beneath him. It didn’t respond as the Rock Lore on the surface, almost indifferent to his knowledge and connection to Rock Lore.

  Sabina grabbed Emily’s Mark around her neck and screamed out in Thoughtspeak, past the watery walls of her encroaching tomb, “EMILY, MAGAS, WE NEED YOUR HELP.”

  Bevan grabbed his head with the power of her Mindshout. With his last strength he heaved the full weight of the Reven power at the crystal. He heard a crack. Hope spawned a flurry of deadly blows at the widening crevice. Liquid seeped through the fractured glass. He glanced up and saw Sabina’s body drifting to the floor, her head lolling, small droplets of blood floating from her mouth. Her Seltan pendant bobbed around her limp neck.

  “Bevan… Bevan—”

  He thought of the pendant and the prophecy. An idea filled him. He Thoughtshouted at her, “The pendent, use the pendant. Child of Water.”

  Sabina didn’t register the thought, but he saw her, as if wading through mud, slowly, agonisingly, wrap her fingers around the pendent.

  Nothing happened.

  “Tell Emily I’m sorry. Tell Mother I love… her. Bevan—”

  Through stinging eyes he yelled in her mind, “Sabina, NO, Sabina you can’t… I love you…”

  Dropping to his knees he leaned on his blade. She did not hear his declaration.

  At first Bevan didn’t see what was happening. His failure again at protecting Daimon and now Sabina–his first real love— overwhelmed him.

  From the corner of his eye he saw a glowing emerald light. Sabina’s Seltan necklace, her lifelong charm, flickered in the murky pool. Tendrils of phosphorus light wove through her body. Bevan pressed against the crazed leaking glass. The filaments of green grew, entwining themselves through her arms, through her slender body, caressing her thighs and binding her toes. Her whole body shimmered in the dark cavern. Bevan shielded his eyes, squinting through the daylight at the change. Her feet grew into delicate flippers, her hands grew. Emerald and silver scales enveloped her body. The light faded and the cavern was dim. The Harp of Harmony bobbed nonchalantly next to Sabina’s curled hand.