by B. T. Narro
Desil got to his feet as quietly as he could. Something metal rattled—Micklin apparently mistaking one of the standing shelves for Desil. The rattling stopped.
Desil held his breath. Micklin was close, his breathing ragged. Desil sensed movement, possibly wafts of air, that disoriented him. He couldn’t hold his breath any longer without risking a gasp when it came time to breathe again. He took a few more breaths, unable to hear anything, until he was able to hold it once more.
Micklin’s breathing had calmed somewhat, but Desil could still hear it just a few feet away. The mage hadn’t moved. They both must still be near the door.
Desil gathered as much bastial energy as he could to flash light in Micklin’s eyes. The pyforial mage put up his hands as Desil let the energy go. It had been enough to see exactly where everything was that Desil needed to locate. He grabbed Micklin by his shirt and what felt to be an arm and flung him away from the door, toward the standing shelves.
Pyforial energy swept against Desil’s leg and flew over his head, tugging at his hair as he frantically reached out for the standing shelves he knew to be there. His hands found one of its metal legs. A scream squeezed out from Desil’s throat as he strained his muscles. The shelf toppled, slamming against the wall. All of the many chests upon it fell with a thunderous crash.
Desil made light, glimpsing only the squirming feet of a screaming Micklin. A pile of chests filled the aisle in front of Desil, but it wasn’t as high as he’d hoped. There only seemed to be a few pinning the pyforial mage, some already moving off him as he tried to free himself.
Desil hesitated as his inner voice screamed for him to do it. He finally listened, springing forward as he took the dagger from his belt. He drove it into Micklin’s boot. The mage screamed as a gust of pyforial energy slammed into Desil’s chest and rolled him backward. He twisted out of its grasp and made for the door as it whirled around behind him.
He got the door unlocked and sprinted down the hall. He’d left behind his dagger and the rope, but at least he still had the master key. And his life.
He braced for another battle with Erwal but encountered no one in the corridors. Perhaps Micklin had lied about the mage coming here to help kill Desil, which meant there was an easier way to get Beatrix and Kirnich inside the castle.
Desil entered the great hall at a dead run and headed for the enormous front door rather than the stairs. He tried to pull it open, but a floor lock rang out. He searched the wall with frustrated haste for a latch or a lever, but there was none. He spun around and found it beside the staircase.
Desil watched the hall he’d emerged from as he made his way to the lever. There were no signs of Micklin, no sounds of his screaming. There still might be time yet. Desil pulled the heavy lever on the ground and heard the grating sound of metal moving.
He pulled open the door to the castle and closed it after him as he exited, then made a sharp turn. Rain doused his face. He shielded his eyes as he sprinted across the front of the castle, then turned around the corner. He cursed as he saw just how far it was to the other side. The keep was enormous.
Hoping not to be seen, as he had no idea where guards might be watching from, Desil sped along the castle and eventually headed around back.
“Beatrix!” he called. “Kirnich!”
They came running to meet him halfway. “Keep your voice down!” Beatrix seethed.
“Run with me around front!” Desil went ahead without them. “Now, or it might be too late!”
“Come on,” Kirnich told Beatrix as he ran after Desil.
She was last to start sprinting. “What the bastial hell happened?”
“Micklin stopped me in the armory. He’s still trapped in there, or he’s out by now and looking for us. There could be others as well, already joined in the search. If you still want to get word to your father, we have to get inside the castle before they lock the door again.”
“Did anyone else see you?” Kirnich asked.
“No one besides Micklin seemed to notice me. He claimed Erwal was on his way to the armory, but I believe it was a lie. Micklin probably followed me after spotting me and didn’t have time to tell others. I managed to stab him in the foot, but I’m not sure how much that will hinder a pyforial mage who can lift himself with the energy.”
“He must not have tried to kill you,” Kirnich said.
“He did, but that doesn’t matter right now. Look at the sky. It’s after first light. Basen probably already made a portal. He’ll make another at sunrise, yet he’s too far away to see the sunrise at the same time that we will. It’s best if we get to the training center as quickly as possible.”
They ran around the castle until they reached the front door, Beatrix oddly silent. She took the lead as they made it through the unlocked door, darting up the stairs as fast as her little legs could carry her.
“Are there always this few people?” Desil asked.
“No,” Kirnich answered. “Something’s changed, and it’s not just the war. There should be more of the castle workers, especially during the early morning.”
Desil reached for his dagger, but he’d left it in Micklin’s foot.
Beatrix stopped at the second floor and glanced about frantically as she struggled for breath. She dashed toward a woman holding a stack of folded sheets.
“Where is my father?” Beatrix asked.
The server curtsied as she peered around the sheets at Beatrix. “He’s…in his sleeping quarters still.” She stuttered as if terribly nervous. “I hope he recovers soon.”
“Recovers from what?”
The server’s mouth moved without sound. Eventually she spoke. “He’s…um sick, Princess. So I’ve been told.”
“Sick with what?”
“That’s all I know. I apologize.”
“Where are my siblings?”
“I’m not sure of that, either.”
“You’re keeping something from me. What is it?”
“Just rumors, Princess. Nothing I should say aloud.”
Kirnich put his hand on Beatrix’s back. “Come on, we don’t have time.”
Beatrix darted into a hallway that eventually reached a set of long, flat stairs. Desil and Kirnich followed the princess up the steps, which took them past a window in the stone wall where Desil stopped for a glimpse of the horizon. A line of orange split the shadowed terrain and the night sky. There was little time to make it to the training center. Hopefully they wouldn’t need to rush after Beatrix made her father aware of the truth.
Desil caught up to the others as they passed through a luxurious chamber filled by cushioned seats, bookcases replete with beautifully bound books, and a finely crafted harp taller than Desil in the corner.
A man standing in front of the door jumped upon seeing them. Desil noted a leather chest piece and a sheathed sword. “Your highness, when did you return?” the guard asked.
“Just now. I need to speak to my father.”
“He’s unwell. You shouldn’t disturb—” The man stopped and moved aside as she came close. “Sir,” he appealed to Kirnich.
“On whose order are you here?” the officer asked as Beatrix tried the door, only to find it was locked. Desil handed her the master key, which she hastily inserted.
“Allephon, sir,” the guard replied and backed away from their group.
“Tell me where her other siblings are,” Kirnich demanded.
The man continued to back away. As soon as Kirnich took a step toward him, he spun around and bolted.
“What are you doing?” Kirnich called as he started after him. “Return now!” The warrior came to a halt and looked over his shoulder. “What did you sense from psyche?”
“I wasn’t paying attention to his energy,” the princess replied.
“He could bring back Allephon and a small army,” Desil warned. “And I think…” He couldn’t get the words out.
Beatrix would find out soon enough anyway, as she opened the door to her father’s sl
eeping quarters.
A sweet smell too strong for Desil’s taste overpowered his nose. The room was large enough to fit ten of the enormous beds found against the opposite wall, the king buried under blankets up to his chin. Candles crowded tables and the tops of bookcases. An array of perfumes in ornate bottles were clustered on the bedside table.
“Father, wake up. Allephon has—” She groaned and covered her mouth as she came to the king’s side. She turned away and retched, then let out a weep. “Gods, what has my brother done?”
Desil approached behind Kirnich, mimicking the warrior’s technique to hold his shirt over his mouth. It did little good as Desil breathed in decay as strong as a punch to the gut. He recoiled and gagged. Kirnich was far more prepared, approaching the dead king for a close look.
“I’m sorry, Beatrix. He’s been dead for a while.”
Shaking with sobs, Beatrix grabbed hold of the side of the bed and managed to pull her head up. “This was Allephon. I don’t know how or who helped him, but it was my brother. I’m so sorry, Father. I never should’ve left.”
“They’ve been keeping this hidden,” Kirnich said with a growl. “Masking the smell. I assume the only people who know of his death are with Allephon already, and they are on their way here to kill us next, Beatrix. It’s time to go.”
“Go where?”
“We talked about this, remember? If we couldn’t get to your father, we would return to Basen until we could figure out what to do.”
“This is different. He’s…d-dead.” She covered her mouth and pushed herself away. “How could they show him such disrespect to leave him like this?”
“Kirnich is right,” Desil said. “We have to go now.”
Beatrix regained her strength as she stood and looked down one last time at her father’s body. “I will kill Allephon,” she muttered.
She didn’t move. Perhaps she hadn’t heard Desil’s warning.
“We are trapped in here.” Desil took her by the arm and pulled her toward the door.
She tugged out of his grasp. “Wait.” An echo of footsteps came from in front of them. “I sense too many to count.”
Kirnich ran ahead but only to close and lock the door to the king’s sleeping quarters. Beatrix had gone to the other wall, where a full bookcase stood.
“What are we planning to do here?” Desil asked as panic struck him. “We can’t escape by fighting through them.”
Kirnich walked past him to join Beatrix at the bookcase as she seemed to be trying to topple it but lacked the strength. With one jerk, Kirnich pulled the bookcase hard enough for it to fall. It cracked in half as it crashed, books jutting through it like bones through broken skin. A tiny door was revealed on the wall.
“Come on, Desil.” Kirnich pulled open the door.
Beatrix knelt as if to go in first, but Kirnich grabbed her shoulder. “Better let me. Remember what’s on the other side.”
“Right.”
Kirnich hunched and barely squeezed in. Beatrix followed as someone tried the door handle to the king’s sleeping quarters. Next came kicks against the door. Desil followed Beatrix into what he hoped to be a swift escape route after slamming and barring the hidden door. The sound of boots against wood faded to a low drum as he crawled deeper through the tunnel.
It was black and nothing else. Desil made light but was able to see only Kirnich filling the area in front of him, over Beatrix’s back.
“Can you go any faster?” she complained.
Kirnich sped up his crawling, but his head bounced off the ceiling. He stopped for a full breath as he grabbed his head and winced. “I’m going as fast as I can, dammit!”
Desil thought he heard a door break behind him, but it was difficult to tell if it was the door to the room or the one to this passageway. “Kirnich—”
“I heard it too.” The warrior groaned as his shoulders scraped against the side walls.
“They’ve gone through here!” someone shouted.
“Go around!” ordered another.
Beatrix stopped. “That’s Allephon.”
“Keep going.” Desil gave her a not so gentle push to the bottom of her foot.
She grumbled a curse and went on.
Soon the tunnel opened enough for them to stand, though it remained just wider than Kirnich. They sped through as best they could, colliding with wall during each turn. Eventually Kirnich rammed his shoulder against what appeared to be a wooden wall in front of them. Nothing happened as the warrior continued to bash his shoulder against it harder each time.
Something crashed on the other side. Kirnich kicked open the door and disappeared into darkness. Desil came out after Beatrix, making light for the three of them. It seemed to be another sleeping chamber, a massive bed at the center. Kirnich and Beatrix went for the door ahead of them, which led to a set of stairs.
Desil had to slow himself to keep from surpassing the psychic as he urged her to hurry. He was weaponless and sorely missing his dagger.
Soon they returned to the second floor of the great hall, Kirnich skidding to a stop to avoid toppling over the banister.
On the opposite side, a river of men poured out from one of the halls. The few servants in sight gawked at the scene, one right next to a frozen Kirnich. “Sir?” she asked.
“Take cover,” he warned her. After a quick look behind him to ensure Beatrix and Desil were there, Kirnich made for the sawtooth stairs that would take him down to the ground level. Desil was glad to see that the access was on their side of the walkway, farther from their enemies, but his hope dissolved as he noticed bows in their hands.
“Either all of us make it out of here, or none of us do,” Kirnich said as he sprinted. “If someone goes down, you stop and fight.”
Half of their pursuers gave up to ready their bows while the others continued for the stairs. Kirnich made it there well ahead of Beatrix, but he stopped to check on her before starting down. As difficult as it was for Desil to keep from passing Beatrix, he didn’t. This was the only way to keep his eye on her as they flew down the stairs.
The first arrow zipped past Desil’s nose. Another cracked against the stairs behind him. The third nicked his arm.
Desil was shocked when he noticed the arrow somehow sticking to his bicep. Bastial hell, it was inside him! His arm felt full of air, but there was no pain. He’d hardly even felt an impact.
Another arrow seemed to strike Beatrix low, but it happened too fast for Desil to see exactly where. It didn’t lodge inside her body, like the arrow did in him, but it did cause her to falter as she yelped. She tumbled down the last of the stairs. Desil picked her up and pulled her as he ran. She stumbled at first but soon found her speed again.
Kirnich had gone around the staircase to pull the lever for the front door lock. He caught up to Beatrix as Desil reached the front and pulled open the door. Arrows beat against the floor, one striking the door itself, but none found their mark.
They left the keep behind, but there were still the castle grounds and the curtain wall ahead of them. With the sunrise imminent, the castle had come alive. Workers bustled around a courtyard, all stopping to point or gawk when they noticed the arrow sticking out of Desil’s arm. It didn’t seem too deep to him, so he grabbed and pulled it out. The pain finally came, like teeth ripping at his flesh. He covered his bleeding wound with his hand.
They were just reaching the portcullis of the curtain wall when Desil caught sight of their pursuers entering the courtyard. Kirnich turned a crank, the gate rising. “Grab that board,” he told Desil.
Desil picked up the plank with a pole emerging from its center. He positioned it over the opening beside the crank.
Beatrix yelled to all who would listen, “Allephon killed the king! Do not let him get away with this!”
“Now, Desil,” Kirnich commanded.
Desil jammed the board and pole into its fitted slot. There was a clang and a small scraping sound, but the portcullis held halfway up. It groaned as they ran be
neath its spiked bottom. Men behind shouted for them to be stopped, but there was no one else in front of them as they came to the final gate.
The archway was a marvelous piece of architecture so large it made Desil feel as though he was a bug fleeing from a rolled-up parchment. Two enormous statutes looked alive as they intimidated any enemy who dared pass through the archway and into the castle grounds. A surge of fear came over Desil. Now he was one.
There was no portcullis to hold them back, no guards to stop them. Desil figured the king had sent every man he could to the battlefront, wherever that may be. So was it Allephon now issuing these orders? Did this entire castle and all its magnificence belong to a traitor?
Desil still couldn’t believe the king was dead. He felt little besides needle pricks of fear. He could tell a dread with the power to cripple was building within him, but it was buried deep.
From the top of this hill, Desil could see the sun emerging over the eastern horizon. It might already be too late. Kirnich held his shoulder in the same way Desil cupped his hand over his arm. Beatrix ran with a slight limp as she gasped for breath. The training center wasn’t far from the bottom of the hill, but a small army of shouting men had gained on them. The three of them would have to hide until the portal was open, but they hadn’t bought themselves enough distance from their pursuers to make that possible.
They would have to fight.
“How skilled are the men chasing us?” Desil asked Kirnich as they sped around people crowding the king’s road.
“The best are fighting Tenred, but you have no weapon. We won’t win.”
“They wouldn’t kill us publicly,” Desil realized.
“Capture would mean the same thing,” Kirnich said. “I know her brother. He’s probably already killed many who’ve threatened his plans. That’s why the castle was practically empty. It’s his way of controlling the situation.” He and Desil checked back for Beatrix. “Are you able to fight?” Kirnich asked her.
“Better than I can run.” She heaved for breath. “One shot me in the foot.”
