The Spell, The Stones, and The Treasure (Fated Chronicles Book 3)

by Humphrey Quinn

  Ivan responded, “Sorry. Juliska’s going to have to wait. I won’t be handing Meghan or myself over, anytime soon.”

  He’d feared it would be just a matter of time before Juliska sent someone to hunt them down. And for all he knew, Billie had been right in her concerns; she may have directed Juliska’s hunting party right to them.

  “Mr. Crane, I presume,” the voice called out. “You might be interested to know that our mission is not for you today. Although, we have been warned about you and your little misses.”

  Ivan did not respond. He had been too quick to dismiss the fact that they were here for Colin and Colby.

  “My patience is thin, Mr. Crane.”

  “Why don’t you show yourself,” Ivan shouted back.

  To his surprise, the man did show himself. He materialized out of the darkness from the side of a large tree trunk in Kanda’s driveway.

  “Stripers,” realized Ivan. “Perfect! An enemy we can’t see. This is just getting better and better.”

  The Striper took a few steps towards the house. “As I said, we’re not here for you. We seek the Projector and the Song Spinner, per the Queen’s orders.”

  So Juliska Blackwell was going by just the Queen now.

  Ivan was confused. Billie had warned them that Juliska was looking for him and Meghan. Why was she now looking for Colin and Catrina?

  He shook his head, feeling dumb.

  It was a trap.

  They had hoped Billie and her crew would go in the opposite direction for help, right into the arms of the ones she was really looking for.

  “Good thing Catrina isn’t here,” Ivan mumbled, adding, “Really wish those guys would wake up in there.”

  Inside the house, Jae, Elisha, and Nona checked in on the three memory travelers; still no sign of waking up. They crept back to the front of the house and took a peek outside and saw the Striper standing in the driveway. They heard everything he and Ivan discussed.

  “I hate to say it, but maybe Catrina being imprisoned by Freyne was a good thing,” said Jae.

  Nona meowed in sarcastic agreement.

  Elisha snarled toward the front window. “I’ll never let them near my Master,” she purred in a deadly tone.

  “While I agree with your sentiment,” said Nona, “do you have any actual ideas?”

  Elisha snarled, “Just one. Get my Master out of here!”

  She darted into the living room where Colby lay, still deeply in his trance.

  Jae crawled in, keeping low, Nona right behind him.

  “No Elisha! You can’t take him. You don’t know what will happen.”

  Nona jumped in front of Elisha, thrashing her claws and catching her chin.

  “So it’s a fight you want?” Elisha snapped.

  “No. But I won’t let you take Colby away from here,” Nona replied, her stance poised to fight.

  Outside the house, Jae heard the Striper’s voice call out.

  “Five minutes. I’ll give you five minutes to make the smart choice. Hand over the boy and girl, the rest of you can leave in peace.”

  “Really? You’ll just allow us to walk away?” replied Ivan. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  The Striper’s eyes started to glow as the moon emerged from a thinning cloud, over the edge of the trees, behind him.

  A heartless grin spread across his face. “Five minutes,” he reminded. “Turn them over, or prepare to fight.”

  CHAPTER 38

  The blast hole was just large enough for two people at a time to squeeze through.

  It was on the backside of the prison wall.

  The prisoners rushed through, two by two.

  A voice hollered near the front of the prison.

  “What was that?”

  “Hurry, get inside! Check it out!”

  An elderly couple insisted on being the last out, waiting patiently as the twenty other prisoners got through and ran for their lives towards the rendezvous location: the Sadorus estate.

  There was a pathway that started at the back of the prison, breaking off in three different directions, leading into the woods.

  Draped in total darkness, it took a moment for the prisoners’ eyes to adjust so they could see the correct path they needed to follow. Schoolchildren had worn this path well.

  “The prisoners are escaping,” a guardsman called out repeatedly.

  The lead prisoner, nicknamed Scarface, urged the elderly couple to get through. He would follow as the last one out.

  They squeezed through just as Stripers rushed around the corner. The elderly woman thrust her provisions into the hands of Scarface, while at the same time, her husband grabbed the potion bottle Scarface held in his hand.

  “Run,” the old man ordered.

  The elderly man turned and threw the potion bottle towards the guardsmen. It blew up in front of him, sending dirt and plumes of smoke into the air.

  “What are you doing?” Scarface demanded.

  The woman took his hand and said, “Run. Get everyone to safety. We’re too old and weak to make it. No arguing.” She pulled another potion bottle out of her sleeve, aiming it towards the Striper guards, now working their way through the first explosion.

  Scarface didn’t have time to argue. He obeyed, knowing full well he was leaving them to their doom. The only price worth their lives, was if he could do as they asked. Keep the others safe. Keep them alive.

  The elderly woman waited until the guard was just about upon them, and dropped the potion bottle just a few feet in front of her.

  Her husband grabbed her and they ambled in the opposite direction of the other escapees. The right side path didn’t go far, coming out just at the front of the prison, in the street. It was also a thin path and they had to run, one in front of the other. The husband stayed in front, hoping to protect his wife.

  Lights were flickering on inside every house.

  Curtains opening.

  Faces glued to whatever was happening outside; a place they were forbidden to go if they were over sixteen, or at all, if it was after dark.

  A shadow flew overhead. Wings snapped in the heavy night air.

  The elderly woman screamed, tripped and fell. Her husband turned to go back for her. A foreboding shape landed in between him and his wife, blocking her from view and forcing his retreat.

  “Sylvia,” he called out to her.

  Two guards caught up and grabbed him roughly, securing his body with younger, stronger hands.

  He called out to his wife but she didn’t answer.

  Sylvia got to her feet, her body shaking. She knew what was coming. There was no stopping it. She mustered every bit of courage she could find and faced the Scratcher head on.

  It leaned forward, staring into Sylvia’s aged eyes.

  She didn’t flinch, even when it flashed its fang-like teeth at her.

  She kept her gaze firm and straight into the Scratcher’s red and black eyes as it wrapped its wings around her body.

  “You can have me,” she told it. “But you won’t win.”

  The Scratcher threw its head into the air letting out a shriek that rippled over the entire island.

  A moment later, her lifeless body slumped to the ground.

  The Scratcher took to the air with a triumphant and deafening screech.

  Harold, Sylvia’s husband, lost his balance. He knew what he was about to see, but just the same, seeing the dead body of his wife caused his knees to buckle.

  “Where did the prisoners go?” a guardsman asked him.

  Harold did not reply. He barely even heard the question.

  The guards shook him violently, one holding up his face.

  “I’ll ask you one more time, where did the prisoners go?”

  He did not answer.

  A guard slapped Harold across the face.

  “Do what you will with me. I won’t tell ya nothing,” Harold said.

  “You might just change your mind about that when I get through with you. So I’ll as
k you one last time, where did the prisoners go?”

  Harold flung him a determined grin.

  The guard raised his arm to hit Harold again, but it was stopped mid swing.

  The guard made a grunting noise and turned to see who had stopped him.

  “KarNavan, my apologies,” he bowed his head. “And my Queen,” he added anxiously, upon seeing Juliska Blackwell stroll out of the shadows.

  “There is no need for your kind of torture,” said Juliska, her voice cutting. “Not when I can get what I want, so much faster.”

  She approached Harold, her long form-fitting jacket skimming the frost-covered cobblestone as she walked.

  “What are you going to do to me?” asked Harold, his voice uncaring. “Suck out the rest of my already spent life?”

  Juliska ignored his retort. “You know, you should bow to your Queen,” she said.

  The guards had to fight him, but they got him to his knees.

  Harold looked upon Juliska Blackwell with hate-filled eyes and spit onto her pointy shoes.

  “If I’m going to die, you might as well know what I really think of you.”

  “The feeling is mutual,” she replied with a bored smile. “Harold, where are the prisoners going?”

  “You know I ain’t going to tell you.”

  “I know. Just being polite,” she lied.

  She raised her arm, holding something in her palm.

  A smooth, round stone.

  “You want to change your answer?” she asked him.

  “Why? So you drain the magic out of me and kill me anyway?”

  “This is the problem with you people,” she said matter-of-factly.

  She turned and spoke as if speaking to anyone close enough to listen.

  “You’re all too eager to sacrifice yourselves for the so called greater good. It makes it very hard to find out what I need to know. And I will find out. Because the thing is, Harold,” she spun back around, “that this island is completely under my control. No one leaves. No one comes. Unless I permit it. They have nowhere to go. You’re all just delaying the inevitable.”

  “Help will come,” said Harold. “You just wait and see. You may think you’re the Queen, and maybe for now you are, but it won’t last forever.”

  Juliska’s face turned murderous. She leaned down to look straight in his eyes. “Unlike you, Harold, I do have forever.”

  She stood and turned on the spot. “Let all seeing this tonight, bear witness to the punishment of treason to your Queen.” She reached out her arm and slammed the Stone into Harold’s forehead. She didn’t even turn to give him a glance. Her eyes watched everyone else, watching her.

  Harold weakened. The stone’s power surged through his body, seeking out any bit of magical ability and power he had, until there was nothing left.

  Juliska pulled the Stone away.

  Harold fell to the ground. Alive, but barely.

  Juliska closed her hands around the stone, walking away without giving Harold a second look.

  “KarNavan, come,” she ordered. As she whisked away, she said to the guards, “Clean up this mess.”

  Harold, weak as he was, crawled to the body of his dead wife. It took every ounce of strength he had to reach her.

  “They got away,” he told her. “They got away.” He rolled over and gazed up into the starless night. “Help better come soon,” he mumbled, closing his eyes for the final time.

  Jasper Thorndike looked away from his beloved Aloyna, stepping back into the battle, his silhouette instantly lost in a sea of warriors.

  The scene around Meghan, Colin and Colby melted away, a new one building itself around them.

  Meghan got a shiver. She didn’t know if it was part of the spell, or if for some reason, in real life she was cold.

  In this new memory, it was day. From the position of the sun, Meghan guessed early afternoon.

  Fires smoldered. Smoke billowed. The battle was over.

  They were once again on the grounds of the estate.

  Eight robed figures stood in a semi-circle, just outside of the home; they held a woman between them.

  It was Aloyna.

  Jurekai stood in front of them all.

  “You are a traitor to your people,” he spoke with a biting hatred. “My own mother.”

  “I did what I must. Jasper has the Immortality Stone. It’s no longer within your grasp,” she replied evenly. “And one day, I will stop you.”

  “That is where you are wrong!” he said, stalking up to her. His dark eyes peeled into hers. “You’ll pay for your sins, for the rest of your very long life.”

  “I’m willing to pay that price,” she told him. “I know what you do today, will one day be your undoing. But I will beg of you, one last time, to stop. No one person should have this much power. Enough blood has been spilled.”

  “Enough of this!” he said, ignoring her plea. “Take her inside.”

  The eight robed figures dragged Aloyna inside the home.

  Jurekai Fazendiin followed and once inside, told the robed figures to let go of his mother. His justice was swift.

  With the flick of his wrist, Aloyna’s body dissolved into what looked like grains of sand. With another flick of his wrist, he swiped the sand into the glass where Aloyna’s figure rebuilt itself.

  “This is where you will spend your eternity,” said Jurekai. “In these glass walls you will waste away your years, forbidden to speak of your treachery, or your relationship with Jasper Thorndike. Oh, don’t worry,” he added. “I’ll find him. And I’ll find a way to kill him. And you won’t be able to do anything about it. Then you will finally know what it feels like to be betrayed by your own family.”

  “Claims the boy who killed his own father, my husband,” Aloyna whispered.

  Fazendiin strode up to the glass. “As I will do to anyone else who gets in my way. And you’ll do nothing, but watch. I’ll be here, by your side, forever guarding this glass from being broken. Get comfortable, Mother. No one from this bloodline will ever free you from your prison.” Jurekai walked away, the eight robed figures in his wake.

  Mireya and Joseph waited at the back door. She held her hand on the doorknob, afraid to open it. Going out at night was forbidden. If she was caught, she didn’t know what would happen to her or her parents.

  But she couldn’t let the prisoners down. They were counting on her and Joseph to show them the way. She twisted the doorknob and opened the door. They stepped outside, inhaling the icy November air. All was quiet except for distant voices in the direction of the prison. Mireya and Joseph crept through the darkness, hand in hand, towards the back of the yard.

  There was a pathway that went all the way from the back of the school that crossed the backside of their yards, and continued into the woods, eventually coming out just across from the Sadorus estate.

  A terrifying screech filled the quiet of the night.

  They froze, staring at each other with the same questions on their minds; had the prisoners been caught? Had any of them died?

  Joseph whispered, “C’mon,” and they worked their way to the edge of the path.

  They lit a lone candle and set it on a stump. It was not bright enough to attract any outside attention. It was also not magic, so it could not be traced. But it would let the prisoners know they were heading in the right direction. If they were still coming.

  Minutes later, they heard footsteps scurrying their way.

  The first of the prisoners arrived.

  Mireya and Joseph motioned the direction they should continue in, and pointed to two sacks stashed on the ground, hidden behind a shrub. One prisoner paused, saying, “Thank you.” It was Dr. Stamm.

  They nodded back, wishing they could tell him more about his son, Oliver. But the doctor knew they didn’t really know. He fled behind the other prisoners.

  Joseph quietly let them know that Daveena would be waiting for them at the second checkpoint.

  The last to come was the leader of the pr
isoners, the one they called Scarface. He stopped just for a second to catch his breath.

  “We lost two,” he told them in a whisper. “Elderly couple by the name of Harold and Sylvia Browne.”

  Neither Mireya nor Joseph recognized the name Browne. The couple must have traveled with a group other than either of theirs, before returning to the island.

  “Everyone else got away,” Scarface continued. “The potion you gave me worked. It cleared the pathway of our footsteps. They can’t tell which way we ran.”

  Mireya grinned. Erasing their footsteps had been her idea. She realized they’d be easy to track, even without using magic, simply by following the trail of escaping footprints.

  “We cannot thank you enough for your bravery,” Scarface expressed.

  “Just go,” encouraged Joseph. “We’ll keep doing whatever we can. Go take care of them.”

  “Thank you,” he said again, speeding away. “And be safe.”

  Mireya blew out the candle and grabbed it. Joseph grabbed her hand and raced back to her door. She slipped inside but he did not follow.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered. “I guess more like a few hours from now.”

  Neither would sleep. Their nerves too peaked to even bother trying.

  “We did it, Joseph. We actually did it.”

  “I know. I only hope they can stay hidden long enough for help to come.”

  “Do you really think it will?”

  “It has to. It just has to,” he told her. He shut the door and slipped away in the darkness back to his own house.

  CHAPTER 39

  “Three minutes,” a faceless voice warned.

  Ivan knew they could not win this battle. They were outnumbered.

  He figured Sebastien could hold his own, but bringing Jae had been a mistake. It had put him directly in harm’s way; his body was designed for a fight. This temptation might prove too much for the monster inside of him.

  Ivan was confident they were surrounded by Stripers, all with the advantage of blending in and disappearing into the background, which made fighting them nearly impossible.