The wyvern seemed to be enjoying the flight as much as Sam, taking every opportunity to dive and swoop and roll as they sped through the sky with the speed of an arrow. Sam could scarcely believe that King Leodan trusted him enough to loan him one of flying reptilian beasts.
The shock of discovering that Sarah was the King’s daughter remained at the forefront of his mind; all the signs had been there, Sam realized, but he had failed to read them properly.
Right about now, Sarah, Curtis, and Lilah would be in the castle, recounting the previous night’s events. Sam laughed to himself when he pictured Curtis explaining how he had taken out a wraith with his slingshot, relishing the attention. And then there was Woody, who Sam doubted would figure into the story, but deserved recognition for alerting them to the fact that Trevor had slipped out last night. Something better than stale dinner rolls for you from now on, I’ll bet, Sam thought.
The events of last night were as much of a blur as the trees he now flew over; everything, including this moment, felt like one long dream, and any minute now he would wake up in his uncomfortable bed in the Dashelmore living quarters.
What would become of Malavant? Would he be punished for aiding in the kidnapping? Sam didn’t think that it was fair seeing as how Malavant hadn’t been in control of himself.
And what about Trevor? Sam wondered what excruciating form of punishment Demälikar had in store for him after he had failed the evil sorcerer. Sam shuddered to think about it.
The fact that he was indebted to Demälikar weighed on him heavily. When the time came, what mysterious favor would be asked of him?
Sam shoved these nagging thoughts aside as Lesser Spriggleford came into view. He couldn’t have been flying for more than two hours, and was amazed at how quickly they had arrived compared to the traditional means of horse-and-wagon.
Minutes later, they were circling above the village, Sam searching for a place to land. Several of the villagers were already out and about, and he saw some of them pointing at him from below.
“This’ll be quite the entrance,” Sam said to the wyvern, directing the creature to land. They swept downward at a vertigo-inducing angle, and there was a slight bump as the wyvern’s taloned feet touched down in the dirt.
A small gathering of villagers had formed outside, clearly mystified by the winged creature. Sam dismounted and ran to his parent’s cottage, the vial bobbing up and down in his pocket. He hoped he wasn’t too late.
He burst through the door. “Mom!” he shouted.
His mother entered the kitchen. She was thinner than he remembered her. “Sam?”
She rushed over, hugging him tightly. “I didn’t think you would be able to make it.” She inspected him from arm’s length. “And you’ve grown.”
“Dad? Is he…”
“He’s alive, but for how long…” She shook her head.
“I need to see him,” Sam said.
His mother led them to their bedroom. His father was on the bed. Sam couldn’t contain a surprised gasp upon seeing his father’s emaciated condition; his eyes were sunken, his cheeks hollow, and he was nothing more than skin stretched over bones. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead.
“I should have warned you,” Sam’s mother said. “He’s wasted away to almost nothing. The doctor can’t even believe…”
Sam didn’t hear the rest. He moved over to the bed, removing the vial from his pocket. He gazed at the dark liquid inside of it.
“Hi Dad,” Sam said. His father’s eyes opened, his head turning toward Sam, and he managed a weak smile.
“He can’t speak,” Sam’s mother said. “The doctors say it’s a symptom of the illness. “But you know he would if he could.”
Sam nodded. He removed the crystal stopper and brought the vial close to his father’s lips. “I need you to drink this, Dad. It’ll help.”
Sam did most of the work, slowly pouring the frothy liquid down his father’s throat. The smell of the stuff was gag-inducing, but he did his best to hold his breath until the vial was empty.
“What is that, Sam?” Mary asked.
“Medicine. Special medicine.”
If Sam had been expecting immediate results, he was sorely disappointed. Nothing happened. His father closed his eyes and sank into a deep sleep, leaving Sam to wonder if the serum had worked at all or if Demälikar had tricked him.
If it doesn’t work, Sam thought, then you won’t owe him anything.
“We should let him rest,” Mary said. “Come along and I’ll fix you something to eat. You must be famished. I want to hear all about how school is going.”
Sam, overcoming the urge to smash the glass vial to pieces, replaced the crystal stopper, tucked the vial into his pocket, and followed his mother to the kitchen.
Mary whipped up several ham sandwiches and a bowl of tomato soup, shoved them in front of Sam and said, “Eat.”
While he ate, he patiently answered his mother’s many questions, taking extra care to talk about the highlights and avoiding any mention of Demälikar, Trevor, or the business with Malavant. He told her about Sarah (leaving out the bit about her being the King’s daughter), and about Lilah (minus the fact that she had been illegally teaching him magic), and about Curtis (he did mention Curtis’s penchant for firing off extremely noisy sleep farts in the middle of the night).
After some time passed, Sam carried a few scraps of food out to the wyvern, which was still standing obediently next to the cottage.
Sam was weary from a lack of sleep and what one might call an overabundance of excitement. He sat down at the kitchen table, resting his head on its hard wooden surface. He eventually fell asleep that way.
He couldn’t be sure how long he slept, but it must have been hours because the sun was no longer casting a wedge of light through the open kitchen window. There was a puddle of drool next to his right cheek where it had been resting on the table.
“I don’t believe it!” Mary shrieked. “It isn’t possible.”
Sam glanced up. His mother had been at the kitchen sink, washing dishes, when Sam’s father staggered out of the bedroom. The wooden bowl she was holding fell from her hands and clattered to the floor.
“Dad?”
Edric Finch, forty pounds lighter than when Sam had left for the academy, hobbled over to the kitchen table, sat down and said, “What does a person have to do to get some food around here?”
“How are you feeling?” Sam asked as his mother scrambled to prepare a meal for his starving father.
“Other than feeling like I could eat an entire cow, hooves and all? Not bad.”
All Sam’s mother said was, “It’s a miracle!” and continued cooking, not about to look this particular gift horse in the mouth.
Sam watched his father eat; Edric shoveled food into his mouth as though attempting to gain back the entire forty pounds he had lost all in one sitting.
An hour later, his father pushed the stack of empty plates away and leaned back in his chair, holding a hand to his stomach. “I don’t know what got into me,” he said in bewilderment.
Edric shoved away from the table and stood up. “Best get to work. Daylight’s wastin’.”
“Work?” Mary asked. “You can’t be serious? You only just came back from the brink of death. You can’t go back to work already.”
“The only thing we’re on the brink of is being in the poorhouse, Mary,” Edric said. “I can’t afford not to get back to work.”
Sam and his mother exchanged worried glances.
“The two of ya quit yer fussin’. I feel fit as a fiddle.”
Sam followed his father outside to the work area. For a long time he sat on the corner stool and watched his father work, afraid that the serum was only temporary; that it would wear off any minute now.
His father asked him about training, and Sam, aware that his father wasn’t one for small talk, answered without going into depth.
When Sam finished, his father said, “Sounds like ya got a hand
le on it.”
Edric went about his work with renewed vigor, looking over his shoulder occasionally to stare at the wyvern standing several feet away.
By the end of the day, Sam’s fear that his father would once again succumb to the strange illness had faded away. Other than being far too thin, he appeared to be in perfect health.
“What did your father say?” Mary asked when Sam went back into the cottage.
“Not much,” Sam said. “As usual.”
“You know he’s proud of you.”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t you dare tell him I told you this, but before he got sick, that’s all he did,” Mary said. “Wondered how you were doing and always asking if I’d heard anything from you.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. Nothing but Sam this and Sam that.”
“Hard to believe,” Sam said.
Outside, daylight was fading.
“I should be getting back.”
“Already? You just got here.”
“Yeah, but there’s only a week left, and I’ll be home for the summer. Besides, I better get that wyvern back.”
Mary smiled. “They’ll be talking about that one for a while. How Sam Finch flew into town on a giant winged lizard. Well, I suppose if I can’t talk you out of it, I should let you get going. I don’t want you rid – flying – at night.”
Sam hugged his mother; she was fighting back tears. Sam shook his father’s hand.
“See you in a week, Dad,” Sam said.
“We’ll be there,” Edric said. “At least, that is, if ya can still stomach traveling by wagon.” Edric was staring at the wyvern when he said it.
Sam mounted the wyvern. He held on tightly as the creature rushed forward, taking to the sky a second later. Looking down, Sam was surprised to see his father watching.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE END OF FIRST YEAR
Sam touched down next to the wyvern corral just as the sun was slinking beneath the horizon. He patted the wyvern on the head and said, “Thank you.”
The living quarters were buzzing with activity. Sam soon found out that Curtis had captivated the other boys with his amazing (and slightly exaggerated) version of the events of the night before.
The other boys stared at Sam as though mesmerized.
Not Cully though, Sam thought as he saw Cully glaring at him, lips pursed. It was nice to see that not everything had changed.
Trevor’s bed was empty. The trunk was gone from the foot of his bed.
“The guards took all of his stuff,” Curtis said. “Brought it in and went through it while they were questioning us.”
“Anything interesting?”
“There was the book about training zombies, and then another book on poisons. The alchemy instructor seemed keen to get his hands on that. Don’t know why, it looked pretty beat up.”
Malavant’s bed was likewise empty.
“What happened to Malavant?” Sam asked Curtis as he plopped down onto his bed.
“Parents came and got him a little while ago,” Curtis explained. “Guess they didn’t want a zombie running lose in the kingdom.”
“It wasn’t his fault.”
“No. But it’s like you said, Trevor was controlling him. They wouldn’t want to chance that happening again. Probably lucky they let him go home instead of having Finnaeus put him down with that lightning trick.”
Several boys approached Sam as he lay on his bed, eager to ask questions and get details, but Sam avoided them as politely as he could. He wasn’t in the mood to be grilled.
“How’s your dad?” Curtis asked as Sam was drifting off to sleep.
“Recovering,” Sam said without offering an explanation.
“No kidding. That’s great news. But I thought he wasn’t going to…you know – pull through?”
“The doctors were wrong, I guess.” Sam was getting ready to close his eyes again when a thought struck him. “I was thinking,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Woody deserves a real treat after what he did. Waking us up like that. If he hadn’t, we’d have slept right through it and things might have gone differently.”
Curtis smiled. “Already taken care of. I wrote my parents, so they know all about him. I don’t think my ma was keen on the idea at first, but once she hears about what we did, with rescuing the Princess and all, I’m sure she’ll come to her senses. No more sleeping in a trunk either.”
Sam hadn’t thought of that: being the King’s daughter made Sarah a princess. Although it seemed so very long ago, he still remembered her kissing him on the cheek while they stood at the top of the castle.
Kissed by a princess, Sam thought. How many people can say they’ve had that experience?
Finally, after the living quarters had quieted down, Sam closed his eyes again. After the nightmare they had experienced the night before, he hoped for nothing but pleasant dreams.
The school year ended the following Wednesday. There was a small ceremony for the third year warriors who were finally graduating. Most of them Sam had never met as they did most of their training outside of Dashelmore by that point. In two years time, Sam imagined himself standing where the graduating class stood now, receiving the King’s blessing.
King Leodan sat on a large throne; Sarah sat on a smaller one to his right. She was dressed in a light blue satin dress, long sleeves ending with a white pouf of ruffles at the wrist. Sam couldn’t take his eyes off of her. It was disconcerting to see her dressed in anything besides the clothes she always wore to training.
After all the third year students had received their graduation medallions and the cheers had died down, King Leodan addressed them.
“Fellow citizens of Dashelmore,” Leodan said. “It is my great honor to hand out one of our highest awards today to not one, but three students that have shown remarkable courage in the face of evil. When I call your names, would you please come forward.”
Sarah got up from her throne and stood next to her father. Three medals dangled from blue ribbons in her hand.
Leodan said, “Curtis Meeks.”
Curtis jumped out of his chair and made his way to the front of the ceremonial hall. He tripped and nearly fell on one of the three steps leading to the raised area where Leodan and Sarah stood. He stopped in front of the King.
“Curtis Meeks,” Leodan said as Sarah handed him one of the medals, “it is my honor to present you with this Medal of the Golden Lion as a token of our appreciation for your recent heroism.”
Curtis bent his head forward. Leodan placed the medal around Curtis’s neck. Curtis, all smiles, turned to face the crowd.
“And from the mage school, Lilah Lightseer.”
Lilah, wearing her purple robe, her hand bandaged, stepped to the front. Leodan said, “Please accept this medal as our thanks for your courage and fearlessness,” as he draped the medal around Lilah’s neck.
When she turned to face the crowd, Sam clapped loudly, already nervous for his turn.
“And finally, Sam Finch,” Leodan said, pausing until Sam made his way to the raised platform. “Through your deeds, you have proven yourself of the highest character, ingenuity, and bravery. You fought darkness and were victorious. I am forever in your debt.”
Leodan turned, holding out his hand for Sarah to give him the remaining medal, but instead, Sarah stepped forward and placed the medal around Sam’s neck herself. “Thank you, Sam.”
Sam, not really sure what to do, bowed and took his place next to Lilah and Curtis. He examined the medal: the face of a lion was embossed on the front, with two blue sapphires for eyes. On the back were the words For Outstanding Bravery.
Sam looked into the crowd. Outside the ceremonial hall, dozens of wagons had gathered; parents arriving to pick up their children. Sam wondered if his parents were already waiting out there. He hoped they were there to see him receive his award.
“I look forward to seeing all of you next year,” Leodan said. He exited through a side
door, avoiding the raucous commotion of cheers and applause that erupted afterward. A short while later, the students began to empty out of the ceremonial hall.
“This is it, huh?” Curtis said. “Until next year at least.”
Sam felt a certain sadness wash over him at the fact that he wouldn’t be seeing his best friends in the world for close to three months.
“Let’s write each other,” Sam said. “Lots. Deal?”
“Deal,” Curtis said. “Maybe my parents would even let you come and visit if you could manage the trip.”
“That would be cool!”
“See you guys!” Curtis said, running off to gather his things. Sam saw Curtis’s mother cringe as Curtis opened his trunk and Woody hopped out.
Sam turned to Lilah and said, “How’s your hand?”
“Healing. That’s the last time I go searching for screaming people in the middle of the night. And by the way, I passed my certification test. I’m officially allowed to teach lower level students.”
“Awesome!” Sam said. “No more sneaking around.”
“Only if you get permission.”
“Okay. Maybe they’ll cut us some slack seeing as how we’re heroes and all.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Lilah said, giving him an awkward hug.
Sam watched her go.
Only he and Sarah were left now.
“So what now?” Sam asked. “Is your dad gonna let you do the academy again next year?”
“If I have anything to say about it,” Sarah said. “Thank you, Sam. For everything.”
“Will I see you over the summer?”
Sarah shrugged, glancing over her shoulder to where her omnipresent guards stood. “I’m not sure if I’m being protected or held prisoner yet. We’ll see what happens.”
Sam was unprepared for what happened next. It happened so fast that he wasn’t sure if it had happened at all. Sarah hugged him, started to pull back, but at the last second gave him a quick kiss on the lips.”
He felt as though he might faint; his legs felt like warm taffy again.
Sam Finch and the Zombie Hybrid (Sam Finch Series Book 1) Page 24
