The Black Opal

by Linda Jordan

  Mira heard the coffee table crash and saw books fly through the air. “I hate this, how could it happen to me? I’m going to kill that bitch!”

  The voice sounded familiar, but not quite right.

  “Amanda?” she asked, peering out from under the desk.

  “Who’s there?” asked Amanda.

  Mira crawled out from under the desk in front of Amanda, who stood brandishing a huge sword.

  “Geesh Amanda, put that away before you kill someone.”

  Amanda wore a silky, white blouse and a long kimono-style, turquoise jacket that made her red hair glow. Her long hair curled down her back and around her arms. Clearly, she had gotten a bath and cleaned up.

  Amanda relaxed, but said grimly, “That’s exactly my plan. Have you found my soul yet?”

  “No, I just got here. How did you get in the castle?”

  “I came with Ewan and his father. I followed them up here when they came to talk to the Queen, I said I’d meet Ewan back at the feast. I haven’t found my soul, but it’s nearby. I can feel it.” Amanda stared at her, “What is that thing on your head?”

  “What does it look like?” Mira felt embarrassed and defensive.

  “A horn. You’ve got a horn growing out of your head. It’s either gross or really cool, I can’t decide.” But apparently Amanda wasn’t too impressed. She turned her attention to the bookcases, looking for her soul, behind the books.

  Mira felt something strange about Amanda’s energy. Her aura hadn’t looked like that before. Amanda’s energy felt volcanic, like she’d erupt any minute.

  She realized with horror what felt wrong about Amanda. Taking a steadying breath she asked, “What happens after we get your soul back?”

  “I kill the Queen and her Sorcerer and then I don’t really care. Maybe something will happen with Ewan, maybe not. Maybe I’ll go home, maybe not. Maybe I’ll find some decent coffee. I’ll deal with that later.”

  “You took all the potion, didn’t you?”

  “No, of course I didn’t. I thought about it, but didn’t. Nope, I took you at what you said, so I only did my capful in the morning,” she said, pretending to look for the soul by looking inside the books.

  Amanda was acting too casual and trying to change the subject. Mira knew she lied.

  “Where can it be?” Amanda asked, her expression coy.

  “Why did you do it, Amanda?”

  Amanda turned to her.

  Mira noticed her sister’s pupils were oddly dilated and drops of sweat beaded on her face. Amanda said venomously, “Because I’m tired of being the good girl who does what everyone says. I’m smart enough to run my own life. I know what I’m doing and if you don’t trust me, that’s just too bad.”

  “But what if you’re wrong? What if you don’t have enough energy left to take your soul back inside?”

  “Well, then I’ll die. I don’t care anymore. I can’t let anyone else run my life.”

  “What about Dylan?”

  “Dylan. Oh I don’t have time for him. He’s been cramping my style.”

  “He’s your son. He loves you. You will break his heart if you leave him.”

  “I need to take care of myself The mother gets the oxygen mask first,” Amanda said, her voice suddenly shrill, almost manic. “There’s got to be another room on the other side of this wall. I’m going to find the entrance. I know my soul’s near.” She turned away.

  “Amanda, wait! Can we stay together?”

  “Well, hurry. I don’t have all night. I want to get my soul, then go snog Ewan. He is some amazing man.” A dreamy look flowed across Amanda’s face.

  Mira muttered, “Bipolar, she’s bipolar.”

  She followed Amanda out the opposite door which opened back into the hallway she had entered upon coming to this level of the palace. No pooka stood guard at the next door. Amanda practiced swinging the sword like she would swing a baseball bat. It looked very strange, even for her sporty sister.

  Mira muttered to herself, “It’ll all turn out. Somehow I have to believe that.”

  No doorway existed for a room that might lie behind the Queen’s study. There was a room at the far end of the hallway, but it looked like a small audience room with a throne. She followed Amanda inside. Possibly it was used for private meetings with the Queen. It felt like they had passed by where the soul was hidden. The entrance to that room must be concealed somewhere in the Queen’s office.

  Voices came from outside the door of the audience room. Amanda and Mira slipped behind the heavy, velvet curtains to the rear of the throne. Mira worked on making their energy invisible.

  She recognized the Queen and Sorcerer’s voices.

  The Queen asked, “Well, what did she want? Does she know?”

  Mira heard the door close with a bang.

  The Sorcerer said, “No, not even a hint of it. Although she healed rather quickly for one so old. Said she was attacked by a wild beast. She plans to retire and go on a long trip, although she would not tell us where. She holds some strange notion one of her sons should replace her. As if I would leave the court to make potions for sick peasants in the forest.”

  “Fool. We are surrounded by fools. Roderick came to speak to me. It seems Ronan has disappeared and he wants my help finding his son. I will probably help him so he does not think I was the cause of his son’s disappearance. I need to keep him in my debt. I should be watching my family more closely.”

  “My Queen, you are a brilliant strategist.”

  “Did you find the other burglar?”

  “Not yet,” he said, “but we will. I will join the search as soon as possible.”

  “It is time to go to the feast,” she said. “And name my consort. I think I shall give him a turn to father a child with me.”

  “And if he cannot?” asked the Sorcerer.

  “Then he shall be sacrificed at my next betrothal.”

  The Sorcerer laughed a nervous laugh. “Is there any hope that a mere magician would ever be on your list of candidates?”

  Mira heard an awkward silence. Apparently not.

  “I had no idea your ambitions traveled in that direction, my Sorcerer.”

  “How could they not my beautiful Queen?”

  Amanda pointed to her own mouth and made gagging motions. Mira looked away, appalled by her sister’s lack of fear. She did not want to be discovered, especially by those two. She refocused her efforts on masking their presence.

  “I will give it some thought,” the Queen said, her gown rustling as she moved.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “Now, we must go.”

  “Yes, my Queen.”

  Mira heard the door open. It seemed to stay that way. She could hear servants, the movement of guards and unidentifiable sounds. Finally, the hallway grew quiet again. She and Amanda came out from behind the curtains and crept to the door.

  “I think the answer to where your soul can be found is back in that office.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Amanda.

  “There must be a hidden room and the entrance must be in her office,” said Mira.

  “What, like you take a certain book out and the bookcase spins around?”

  “Yeah, exactly.”

  Amanda snorted with laughter. “You are crazy. There’s no way she would do something that cliché. You’ve been watching too many bad movies.”

  “I think it’s worth checking out.”

  “I don’t,” Amanda scoffed. “I’m following them. The Queen will lead me to the soul.”

  “Amanda no! Her guards will stop you!”

  “No. They won’t stop me,” she said, swinging the sword again. “And I am so tired of being told no! Don’t ever do that again!” she said, pointing the sword at Mira. Amanda turned away and stormed out of the room.

  Mira followed her to the door, watched Amanda walk down the dimly lit hall and turn right at the end.

  A cool breeze blew past her. It carried the scent of sweet, tropical
flowers. Flowers like she had never smelled before. It was ambrosial. She walked out into the hallway, trying to follow the perfume.

  I need those flowers, was the last thought that came to her as she slid down the wall to the floor.

  Chapter 27 - Nakia

  Nakia was dancing with yet another suitor. This time, Lord Montaine. Tall, handsome and ruthless. Rumor said he murdered his brother, who had claimed the lordship because Lord Montaine had been overdue from a fishing trip on the Wild Craggy Sea.

  A good match for her, provided she could keep him in check. Nakia had forgotten about him. He lived in the Outer Islands and seldom traveled to the City of the Black Opal, but had made this journey in hopes of winning her heart, or at least a place on the throne. Definitely a man to be considered.

  So was her Sorcerer. She watched him move through the crowd, like a woodland lion slinking through a herd of sheep. He listened and watched, sometimes speaking and putting someone at ease, others on edge. A predator, trying to decide exactly which sheep should be his prey.

  The dance ended and Lord Montaine, Rufus, escorted her to the side of the room. “Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I will return presently,” he said and moved through the crowd to the tables of food and spirits

  She touched her forehead and the sheath covering her crumbled horn. Just a small, black bump remained. She felt ashamed of her loss and wore the sheath even while bathing, so her servants wouldn’t see. After the ritual she’d have three souls and the Opal would help her grow a new horn.

  The Sorcerer came to her side, “Your Highness?”

  She said, “I have told the faeries who entered the castle for the festival to guard my private quarters and catch any intruders.”

  “Is that wise? Faerie cannot be controlled.”

  “The pooka and the Royal Shields are guarding as well. They will catch the girls when they come for the child,” said Nakia

  Lord Montaine returned with two glasses. He and the Sorcerer began a heated discussion about trading rights. Nakia felt chills of excitement at the knowledge they were really arguing over her. Many turns had passed since men dared to do such a thing. Long ago she had closed and locked that door. She smiled into her wine glass. It felt exhilarating to open those emotions again.

  The entire room glowed from candles inside colored glass chimneys. A gentle breeze wafted though the open windows, just enough to keep the air fresh from waxy smoke and the cloying perfume worn by both the men and women.

  The light reflected the gaudy costumes worn as a traditional part of the midsummer’s festival. The clothes echoed the lush, extravagant flowers and vines of reds, oranges, pinks and purples that filled the room. Small yellow and blue birds sang sweetly along with the music, flitting among the vines. The designers had outdone themselves tonight, with fountains running by magic; she would need to think of a suitable reward. It was rare her servants could do anything right.

  Some of the impressive fountains streamed as tall as three men. Sparkling fish in a rainbow of colors leapt between fountains while couples walking underneath their arc received playful splashes of mist. The sound of water formed a backdrop to the laughter, music and conversation. Entire trees and flowering shrubs filled the edges of the room and scented the air. The massive room wore a feeling of ease with an undercurrent of burgeoning growth.

  She watched Marco Amalia walk underneath one of the fountains with his much younger wife on his arm. Marco was one of the nobles who always lied to her. She twitched her little finger, but nothing happened. She flashed her hand and a ripple moved across the fountain. She finally had to flap her entire arm in the air, as if she were swatting flies, simply to make the fountain momentarily stop so that a red and white fish dropped on his head. He jumped out from under it, brushing it off his head and swearing. A magician’s assistant popped the fish back in the fountain and dried up the mess with a flick of his wrist. Marco glared at him, grabbed his wife’s arm and huffed away.

  Nakia snorted. The atmosphere would be completely different in the Commoner’s Room. Much more boisterous.

  Before she could go, tingles crept up her back as a hand touched her arm gently, but firmly.

  Her sorcerer asked, “Would you dance with me?”

  “I didn’t know you danced” she said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Most certainly,” he said smiling. The smile would have been frightening, had she been a sheep.

  The Sorcerer took her wine glass and handed it to Lord Montaine with a triumphant smile. Lord Montaine did not return the smile. The Sorcerer whirled her out onto the floor.

  He surprised her by being a fine dancer. She hadn’t expected to find such strength and grace in him. Perhaps she could find a way to keep both of them. Now that was an interesting idea.

  Afterwards, the Sorcerer escorted her to the Commoner’s Room. Fully four times the size of the Throne room it was packed with people. The music played louder and faster. People spun and stamped around the room, showing little restraint.

  The leader of the band spotted her and stopped the music. She lifted a cup and cried out, “Glad Midsummer.” With difficulty, she made yellow and blue butterflies appear from her cup and flutter throughout the room. Such things had once been child’s play for her. Anger bubbled up inside at the weakening of her magic.

  The crowd echoed the toast back to her, and she motioned for the music to continue. The dancing began again. The Queen noted how many nobles had spent all evening in the Commoner’s Room. She found it interesting that they were also the ones who distanced themselves from her, except of course her brother, Roderick.

  He kept as close to her as possible. However, she knew that he followed their father’s belief; “You keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” He probably knew she was his enemy.

  She hadn’t been able to bear his happiness in his marriage. Just before their youngest child, a daughter, had been born, Nakia had made sure the midwife was replaced with a woman of her own. Roderick’s wife had not survived to see her daughter born. Nakia smiled at the thought. She hated her younger brother as much as he hated her.

  She would have to keep a closer watch on these nobles, though. If rebellion came, they would be the first to join.

  The people in the Commoner’s Room generally spent less money for frivolities but their costumes looked no less outlandish than the nobles. She marveled at her people’s creativity; after all they were an extension of her will. None of this would be possible without her.

  A purple unicorn danced with an orange and pink sea squid, a stag with a white doe, a red dragon with a peacock, forest gods cavorted with sea goddesses. Painted bodies and people covered with all manner of fabric and feathers.

  Small trees, vines and flowering bushes lined the room and again many large fountains and pools, several of which cooled people’s feet. She didn’t doubt that by morning several brawls would break out and continue in those same pools, partly fueled by large amounts of summer wine. The heady mixture of fortified wine and herbs, made every autumn to celebrate the following summer was drunk only on Midsummer’s Eve.

  “Come,” she told the Sorcerer. “I want to check with the pooka on their progress of finding the girls. And to make sure the boy is well guarded. You need to check on that burglar.”

  He nodded and said, “I still think you should reconsider that child. He should simply be killed. Inhaling the souls of both girls is dangerous enough. To add a third is madness.” He exhaled loudly. She could feel his fear in voicing such an opinion.

  “No. I am strong enough. The Opal will help me consolidate the souls because I am the rightful ruler. She will protect and help me. You know as well as I that there is a rebellion churning away here and I must be powerful enough to destroy it and the people responsible. These souls came into my realm for a reason. The Opal told me the girl’s soul would be for me. If it is, then so are the others. I must take them, conquer them and make them
mine. Then I will have the dragons as well.” She turned to leave the room.

  The Sorcerer sighed and followed her. As she knew he would. There was much to resolve before the ritual. The girls must be found. Nothing could be left to chance. She must also align the future by making a decision concerning a consort tonight.

  Chapter 28 - Ronan

  Ronan entered the upper floor of the palace. He noticed with relief that no pooka stood guard. Perhaps that meant he would find Mira up here and they could search for the soul and Dylan without interruption. The servants would be at their own party.

  He slipped into the antechamber of the Queen’s Quarters, then entered her bathing room.

  There stood Amanda. She still had no soul, but Ewan had seen to it that she found a bath and clean clothes. Even so, she looked even stranger than when he had last seen her. Amanda’s hair was disheveled and her eyes wild.

  She ran to him, threw her arms around his neck and said, “Beloved.”

  “I have met your sister, Mira, but not you.” He tried to peel her arms from around his neck. She was resistant.

  “I love you.”

  “Oh? What is my name?” he asked, while continuing the attempt to untangle himself from her.

  “Ah, what’s in a name that a rose should smell so sweet?” She slid her leg seductively up the outside of his thigh and wrapped it around his waist.

  His forehead wrinkled in puzzlement while he tried to keep his balance. Amanda must have gotten hit by a faerie curse. The faeries were notorious at Midsummer for their love curses. He wrestled with her, trying to extract himself from the inappropriate embrace.

  “Well, it’s something like that, romantic Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet,” she added.

  He continued to push her away. “Have you seen Mira?”

  “Mira, who cares about Mira?” she asked, unwrapping her leg and standing on the floor, although she kept her arms around his neck.

  “I do. Have you seen her?” he asked again, finally getting her arms loose and pushing her back.

  “You don’t need her. You need only me,” she said, sliding her arms up his sleeves.