by J C Maynard
A knock sounded on the door. Raelynn made sure the knife was still on her dresser. “Who is it?”
“It’s Kyan and Vree.” said Kyan from behind the door.
Raelynn walked up and unlocked the door. “Good morning.”
Kyan and Vree walked in the room each holding some papers. Both of them wore scarves to conceal their snakebites. Vree’s skin glowed soft olive-brown, tanned from the southern desert sun; Kyan’s hair was groomed and unmatted for one of the first times in his life.
Kyan sat down on the couch in the room. “You look like you just woke up, Raelynn.”
Raelynn chuckled. “If I didn’t just wake up, I’d be offended.”
Vree sat down on the couch with Kyan. “How do our scarves look?” she asked to Raelynn.
“Stylish,” Raelynn smiled, “no one will think you’re a Nightsnake . . . where have you two been this morning?”
Kyan handed the powder back to Raelynn. “We stopped by the Palace Mail Tower this morning to see if they transferred our boxes from the city up to here.”
Vree set down some papers and Kyan handed Raelynn a letter. “This is for you from someone named Madrick.”
Raelynn took it and froze.
Kyan raised an eyebrow. “Is everything alright?”
Raelynn nodded. “Madrick is my father . . .”
“Do you know what’s in it?” asked Vree.
Raelynn shook her head and put the letter in her pocket. A knock sounded on the door and all three of them jumped. “Who is it?” said Raelynn.
“Prince Fillian.”
Kyan walked to the door, opened it, and bowed.
“Not king yet.” Fillian joked. “Oh, perfect, all three of you are here.” Fillian walked in the room and leaned over the back of a chair. “Nice scarves you two.” said Fillian to Vree and Kyan; he was the only one besides them who knew their story and that they had snakebites, for he was also one of the only people in the world that knew about Whittingale, the Nightsnakes, Benja, and the stone. “I’d like to thank you for the information you gave me on the Nightsnakes. For now, however, I am the only one who knows the truth of why you’re here and who you are. Without telling them why, I had the Guard go to the location of the Nightsnake’s hideaway — that manor in the fourth district you told me about. But the place was abandoned.”
The three of them looked at each other in disappointment. Kyan shook his head. “Riccolo must have suspected that we would try and turn him in.”
Fillian continued, “I’d like to speak with you two,” he said, pointing to Vree and Kyan, “about your experiences with the Nightsnakes . . . to help us catch them. People in this government are starting to think you three are traitors . . . I want to collect information to prove your innocence. I have half a mind to consult Qerru-Mai An’Drui about this — she’s the new Palace Overseer — but she, along with most others in the Palace, has little trust in you. So will you two come with me?”
“Of course.” Kyan and Vree stood up, leaving most of the papers with Raelynn.
Fillian turned back while heading out the door. “My brother is coming back from Endlebarr, just so you know.”
Raelynn stood up. “What happened?”
“Injured on the front lines,” said Fillian. “Stabbed in the foot and a broken ankle. The letter from the generals said he won’t be able to walk for a week or two.”
Raelynn folded her arms. “Well the Palace could use him back.”
Fillian smiled. “Let’s just hope my father doesn’t send me out to take his place.”
Kyan grabbed a paper off the couch “Raelynn, meet us in the library at noon.”
Raelynn nodded and sat back down as Fillian, Vree, and Kyan left her room. She sat there silently for a while thinking to herself. Wanting more fresh air, she put on a coat and boots and opened the door to her balcony.
The air was cold and fresh, and the sky was mostly gray. Snowflakes still drifted gently down, and Raelynn stood in a half inch of light fluffy snow. The city was white with snow, and smoke came from the chimneys of hundreds of buildings like her white breath that floated upward. After the attack on Aunestauna, the rebuilding of the city had gone faster and better than anyone expected, thanks to the hard work of Prince Fillian and Qerru-Mai. Raelynn took a deep breath in through her nose, which turned pink like the tips of her ears. Raelynn sniffed and took the letter from her father out of her pocket.
To — Aunestauna, Ferramoor, River Mail Tower, Box 4057e, R.N.
From — Seirnkov, Cerebria, Orchid Mail Tower, Box 1431bn, Madrick
Raelynn closed her eyes, breathed out, and opened the envelope.
Raelynn,
I have no doubt that after reading this letter, you will be angry with me, wondering why I did what I did. For months now, and arguably your whole life, you’ve been searching for your mother. I have not told you all I know concerning her disappearance. Your mother and I met in Aunestauna, which you know. I was a young political “radical,” and she was the daughter of a Palace servant. Living there and becoming a servant herself, she found me one day cold and hungry and offered to take me in, unbeknownst to her mother. Your mother was a sorceress, but no one knew except for me.
Xandria sent assassins for Tronum the night she fled from Aunestauna. He was badly wounded but before they could kill him, Tronum’s winged lion drove them off. Your mother found Tronum on the ground and used her powers to seal his wounds . . . magic beyond compare.
So Tronum and I alone knew her gift, and she alone knew mine ~ I revealed my Taurimous to her when she told me that she thought she was alone, an outcast. Tronum wanted to use her power for his benefit and employed her as his personal servant. Afraid of his sister, Tronum wanted to build up the largest defense he could, a defense that Xandria could not anticipate. After seeing your mother’s sorcery, Tronum ordered her to begin working on something terrible ~ the creation of military monsters meant to destroy Xandria.
Meanwhile, your mother and I fell in love and had you and your brother. Your mother hated what Tronum was making her do and insisted that I take you and your brother far away while you were still babes. Naturally, I refused. But Tronum’s thirst for power never diminished, and he asked your mother to create another weapon ~ a way for him, a non-sorcerer, to use magic. After months, she found a way.
Your mother created a stone that contained one piece of her Taurimous and one piece of the Tenebris. If anyone possessed it, they could wield their own unimaginable power. Of course, after she finished it, she came to me telling me that she was frightened and that she would try to escape from Tronum’s grasp. We agreed together to flee to Cerebria and help promote peace there.
On the chosen night, as I took you and your brother to board a ship to Cerebria, she gathered all her work, stacks and stacks of documents explaining what she’d done and how Tronum could use the stone, and burned them beneath the Palace in her chamber, to stop Tronum from ever being able to use the stone. Your mother agreed to meet us on the ship after that was done. But I never saw her again.
The Evertauri has discovered that Xandria now has that stone, that a gang in Aunestauna stole it and gave it to a spy who sent it to her here in Seirnkov. We fear that Xandria may use it herself, but we don’t know if she knows how. While your mother worked for Tronum, she sent letters detailing her progress to alchemist and sorcerer goblins whom she trusted. We believe the letters are contained in a goblin library beneath Roshk, which we know was invaded by Xandria during the Goblin purge. We are sending Borius Shipton and Calleneck Bernoil there to discover what Xandria might know about the stone.
Raelynn, up until this point, I refrained from telling you this and I am sorry. It may have been regret or pain or fear over what happened to her, but you need to know now. You need to know that you are part of something complex and fragile. What our family does will tip the world that sits on a knife edge to one side or the other. Please forgive me for the years you’ve spent in the dark. In this envelope is something tha
t may help to lighten it a little bit. It was from the last day I saw your mother.
Love,
Your Father
Tears fell down Raelynn’s face and onto the letter, smearing the ink. Raelynn set the letter down, put her face in her freezing hands, and cried. All this time . . . all this time I’ve been searching for my mother. She walked these Palace hallways. She created those monsters that fight for the Ferrimish in Endlebarr. She- she either left me or . . . or Tronum killed her. As she sat there trying to process it all, she noticed something glowing in the envelope. Still sniffling, she reached in and pulled out a small, glowing flower from her mother.
Silverbrook
Chapter Thirty Four
~February 6th
“Tayben, follow me.” Tayben looked around and could see no one in the midnight fog of Endlebarr. Again, a voice whispered, “Tayben, follow me.” A faint glow appeared far away in the night mist. Tayben stepped over the mossy forest floor toward it. With the raise of his hand, the fog around him vanished, allowing him to see a glowing white flower in front of him. Kneeling beside it, he tried to touch its radiant petals, but his fingers glided seamlessly through it. Again, the whispering around him said, “Tayben, follow me.” Pulled as easily as a feather, Tayben drifted upwards in the night air, through the trees, and above the forest canopy far into the sky. From where he floated, he could see a trail of little lights like stars made from the glowing flowers gleaming beneath the canopy of Endlebarr, stretching for miles. Tayben’s body soared farther into the sky, where he was level with the clouds. From there, he could see the trail of flowers lighting a path over the massive white peaks of the Taurbeir-Krons and into Eastern Endlebarr. Where are they taking me?
Tayben awoke as a clump of snow fell on his face. Brushing it off, he sat up on the freezing floor of the snow cave he had found the day before. About ten feet deep into a massive snow drift, it was the only thing protecting him from the harsh blizzard winds of the Taurbeir-Krons. It had been almost two weeks since he ran away from the Phantoms; they had not followed him. Why? They could have; I’ve lost all my strength the nymphs gave me. When we crossed these mountains before, it took us less than a day. I’ve been here for six.
Tayben looked outside the narrow entrance to his snow cave at the blistering winds of the Taurbeir-Krons. Howling like a demented wolf, it drove volleys of frozen ice shards like arrows past the entrance. The icy air rushed into the snow cave and up through Tayben’s clothes, which were in no way suited to handle the bitterness of the mountains.
Cupping his hands around his mouth, Tayben blew warm air into them and rubbed them together. Before he had entered the mountains, Tayben stuffed leaves from Endlebarr into his pants and his cloak for insulation, and had tied a vine around the hood of his cloak to keep the wind from blowing it off, but it wasn’t enough. His hair was frozen at the tips and his feet stung from the cold. His stomach pained him, as he had not eaten in four days; few animals ever ventured into the peaks. As Phantoms, the energy inside them alone enabled them to go days without much food; but in the recent days, Tayben’s human hunger had returned.
Having gotten only a few hours of sleep, Tayben sat in the back of the cave, dreading going out in the storm. However cold it was, it was warmer inside the cave than in the open. But if I stay here, I’ll die for sure . . . Tayben breathed into his hands again and tried to picture the path of glowing flowers he kept on seeing in his dreams that lead to the other side of the mountains. The Taubeir-Krons are forty five miles across at this point, and I must be about thirty miles through them. That means . . . Tayben grimaced, trying to concentrate, but the cold and his screaming stomach distracted him. That means another two or three days, if I can keep up the pace. Then I’m back in the forest. Tayben felt for his knife. He was able to catch a rabbit before entering the mountains, and he longed for anything now — a bird or a wolf, let alone a loaf of bread or a Fjordsman pie made by his mother.
Another chunk of snow fell from the roof of the cave and onto Tayben’s leg. A gust of wind howled and the crack of an avalanche somewhere in the distance pierced through the blizzard. I have to go out there.
Although the storm blocked out the sun, the days were much warmer than the nights — he had to take advantage of any break in the frigid temperatures that he could get. The weight of what he was doing pressed on him — and all because of a glowing flower. But I’ve been seeing the flower ever since the night the Phantoms recruited me. I never can remember exactly how I got from my platoon to the Phantoms, but I feel like something from that point in time is missing. Whatever this is, it’s my only hope. Tayben crawled forward on all fours out of the cave.
Standing up, he immediately stumbled to the side from the wind, which changed directions every few minutes. The cave was on the side of a mountain, much closer to the bottom of a white valley than the top. Enormous snowy peaks towered around him. The storm was so dense that he couldn’t see where the mountains ended, nor where the terrain pitched and turned. But he knew that most of the winds blew south to north, giving him some sense of direction. Shivering and aching, Tayben marched forward in the snow.
Hours passed, and Tayben’s surroundings looked unchanged. The whole world was a cloud of white. Snow crept into his boots and covered his back, blending him in with storm. The cold drove like needles into his face and his limbs, and no matter how hard he squeezed his hands in balls in his pockets, the cold still seeped in. Closing his eyes, he kept walking forward, bracing himself against the arrows of ice that flew into his skin.
The wind coursed through his clothes and whipped snow upwards, making waves of ice-filled air. The mountains around him cracked and crumbled with avalanches that he could not see, leaving him only to hope that one did not come crashing down on him.
Extreme cold; it was the only thing that Tayben could think about. Never in his life had he thought it possible to experience the excruciating cold that gnawed at him with every step through the snow. His stomach screamed at him for food A gust of wind knocked him to his side. Standing back up without taking his hands from his pockets, he shook off some of the snow on his cloak, and continued to trudge forward.
Several hours passed, and the blizzard’s fury did not cease. Each step became slower than the last. Climbing up another ridge, Tayben’s legs no longer felt any cold; they were no more than sticks strapped to the underside of his torso. Looking up, Tayben surveyed his surroundings — white everywhere, snow everywhere. The light of day was beginning to fade, and the air was getting colder. A few rocks poked out of the snow ahead of him, and he lowered his head again, pushing forward. But he stopped deathly still after hearing a small growl. Slowly looking up again, he realized that one of the rocks had pointed ears and teeth, and its fur, covered in snow, stood up on its ends.
The wolf shifted its hind legs and stared down Tayben, who slowly reached for his knife. His fingers touched the blade, and he pulled it out; the wolf was hungry. It snarled again, taking a step forward in the snow. Its hair stood up on its back. Tayben’s cloud of breath puffed away from him rapidly as the wolf took another step forward. For one moment, Tayben forgot the pain of the cold and just stared straight back at the wolf.
The wind picked up, and in a flash, the wolf sprang forward. Tayben drove his knife into the gray blur as a sharp pain entered his neck and chest. Tayben threw the wolf off of him and into the snow, ripping up his skin that the wolf caught in her claws. The wolf thrashed, and Tayben dove down with his knife and sank it into the animal.
Tayben fell down next to the wolf. Catching his breath, he felt warm blood dripping from his neck and chest. Looking at the ugly animal corpse beside him, he knelt up. He took a minute to gather himself and looked around him at the fading day. I need to find shelter . . . I have food now. Fifteen minutes earlier, he had crossed a small ravine in the snow. I can go back there. Tayben hugged his now bleeding chest. I can- I can skin the wolf . . . Tayben cupped his hands and blew in them. I can use the skin for more
protection. I can use the blood and innards for heat. Tayben picked up the heavy wolf and heaved it on his back, headed back to the ravine.
Making his way carefully to the bottom of the ravine, Tayben dragged the wolf down with him. The wind didn’t reach the fifteen feet down to Tayben, and he curled up at the bottom, examining the dead wolf beside him. Tayben lifted his knife and drew open the flesh. Only slightly recoiling at the familiar sight of blood, Tayben closed his eyes, where he saw in the darkness, the trail of glowing flowers lighting a path over the mountains and into Eastern Endlebarr. Where are you taking me?
~Night, February 8th, two days later
Tayben stumbled forward through the snow. Extreme physical exhaustion gnawed at him — he had been getting not more than an hour or two of sleep during the nights. Thankfully, he had gotten a brief break from the cold and hunger after killing the wolf, but it was not enough. Slowly, he trudged forward through the dark and frozen wasteland, unable to see more than twenty feet in the blizzard. Hoping to have arrived at the forest edge a day ago, he had given up hope that he would find it.
The isolation and cold filled his bones and the snow felt like spikes drilling into his toes and legs. Soon, Tayben’s legs gave out, and he tumbled forward down an enormous hill. Rolling, filling his clothing with ice and snow, scraping and cutting his body on jagged rocks, he finally stopped in a large white drift.
Lying frozen in the snow, Tayben felt his body’s energy and life draining through the blood that circled around him. His mind went blank and accepted the cold around him. His body was broken and spent. The wind had stopped. With a tear sliding down his face, he looked upwards in hopes of seeing the stars one last time.
