Silverbrook

by J C Maynard

  After waiting through the pause, Qerru-Mai spoke. “The rest of the information is in that letter from Fillian if you wish to read it.”

  Tronum didn’t respond but instead continued to watch the dancing flames in the fireplace.

  Watching the reflection of the fire in Tronum’s eyes, Qerru-Mai added, somewhat quietly, “I, um- I also wanted to let you know that I’m leading an investigation into your son’s death . . . I’m working with a former Nightsnake named Vree Srine to uncover the truth. The man responsible for Eston’s death goes by the name of Riccolo. We believe he knows we’re searching for him, and we’ve found evidence suggesting that he has fled with his thieves to the Southlands . . . So I’m boarding a ship in two days to Zaabu.”

  Tronum swallowed with a sore and dry throat. “Well I- I wish you luck and hope you’re able to apprehend him, as well as the thugs who helped him.” Tronum looked Qerru-Mai in the eyes and then turned back to the fire. “Dismissed.”

  Qerru-Mai gave a small bow and left the King’s study.

  Tronum sat silently for some time before standing up. He walked over to the fireplace and doused the flames with a tin of water. Grabbing a long, heavy coat, Tronum walked out of his study, leaving Fillian’s letter on his desk, and headed across the half-destroyed Palace grounds with two Guards behind him.

  The Palace grounds were desolate, cold and burned. A few advisors and Guards walked around in the halls and courtyards, but the Palace was otherwise silent. Windows were still shattered and walls were still crumbled. A void had enveloped the Palace over the past months, and the world seemed filled with strangers.

  Walking to the edge of the Palace on a stone breezeway atop a sloped hillside on the north end of the grounds, Tronum stopped and signaled to his Guards. “Wait here, I’d like to go alone.”

  The Guards bowed and stood at attention as King Tronum stepped off the walkway and into one of the thin patches of snow that covered the hill’s dead grass. Small snowflakes drifted silently down in the late afternoon sky, and from this view, Tronum could see the blackened walls of the Palace, large columns that were being rebuilt with new stone, and fallen turrets that had not yet been repaired.

  Tronum continued his small steps down the hill, passing large stone statues and headstones. Finally he stopped beside three headstones and reverently brushed the snow off them. He stepped back and took a deep breath. “Father,” he said to the largest. “My Love,” he said to the next. And to the last, “Son.” He took a few steps and knelt down between the last two. Feeling the snow’s cold seep into his skin, he closed his eyes and took another deep breath. Slowly, tears filled his eyes as he reopened them to see the names of Gallegore, Eradine, and Eston inscribed in stone.

  “We’re in the last days of war.” he said to his departed loved ones. Hoping that somehow they were listening, he continued. “Our forces are closing in on Xandria. Father,” he said, “she has caused this world great pain, and I need your strength to still love my sister despite what she’s done.”

  He looked to the center gravestone. “Eradine . . . not a day goes by where I don’t miss your presence, your courage.”

  He closed his eyes. “Eston . . . I’m so sorry. I wronged you in many ways and didn’t value what I had — a brilliant, worthy son.”

  Tronum clenched his teeth to try and suppress tears. “My days grow short. I can feel the sickness that I’ve long ignored overtaking me . . . But Fillian will avenge all of you. He’s not ready yet, but I know he will be.”

  King Tronum stood up renewed. “I’ll see all of you soon.”

  ◆◆◆

  ~ Two Days Before, Evening, February 22nd

  Fillian unclasped his metal helmet and took a deep breath in. The foggy air of Endlebarr stank with the smell of blood and war. He looked around at the complete devastation. The forest floor was covered in bodies as far as the eye could see — thousands of Ferramish and Cerebrian soldiers lying dead, sprawled on top of each other, blood soaking into the black soil beneath.

  In the distance, Ferramish generals rounded up the survivors into new battalions. Fillian shivered from the cold of his rain-soaked clothes and armor. The sound of gently rushing air, pushed by giant feathered wings descended from the canopy. Fernox glided down and landed softly next to Fillian, but he looked angry and growled low.

  Fillian cautiously stepped forward. “Where is Tayben?”

  Fernox growled again and lowered his head.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  The lion backed away slowly as Fillian raised a hand toward the white, winged lion.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you.” said the Prince. “Do you know who I am? Do you remember my father, Tronum?”

  Fernox gave a snarl and dug his claws into the soil.

  Fillian nodded. “My grandfather then? Gallegore? You were his . . . then you left Ferramoor . . . come, I won’t hurt you.”

  Fernox stood still for a moment, then ruffled his wings and stepped forward.

  Fillian extended his hand, and with a racing heart, placed it on Fernox’s nose. “Stay with me. Fight alongside a Whenderdehl again.”

  As he ran his fingers through the lion’s thick mane, he felt the ground rumble, and a tree-giant emerged from the soil, followed by a beast of ice and another of fire approaching out of the fog. Fillian spoke out. “You drove away the Cerebrian Phantoms?” Suddenly, he felt as if he were being sucked into the mind of the beasts, where he felt a reassuring presence and an inaudible voice, yes.

  Fillian nodded and looked around at the carnage from the battle, and the bodies that lay scattered across the underbrush that would soon be swallowed up by the vegetation. “It won’t be the last we see of them.”

  ◆◆◆

  Gallien knelt down on the forest floor with Tayben’s body in his hands. After carrying his body away from the battle, Gallien gently set him down at the base of an enormous tree. Gallien situated Tayben’s hands around the hilt of his sword and placed a spear at his side. Choosing not to block out the past, Gallien let the memories flow. He remembered the first time meeting his tentmate, feeling scared of the army, scared of the forest, and seeing Tayben’s bravery through it all. He remembered being taken by the Phantoms, then learning that his best friend would too join the ranks. He felt the hollow hole in his heart after Tayben had left, and the chill of seeing Tayben’s pale, dead face in front of him.

  Gallien flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Chent and Ferron standing behind him with solemn faces. Gallien shook his head. “I can’t do this.”

  Ferron knelt down beside him, glancing at Tayben’s body, and then back to Gallien. “None of us thought we could. But you have to push through.”

  Chent nodded. “General Lekshane doesn’t understand the hardship . . . but we do. Soon this will all be over, and the world will be at peace.”

  Gallien wiped tears from his eyes. “I’m fading, brothers. My powers are- . . .”

  The three stood in silence for a moment, all looking over Tayben’s body. Ferron attempted a smile and patted Gallien on the back. “The rest of the Phantoms are still a distance away . . . Let’s send Tayben off right, shall we?”

  The three stood up beside Tayben’s cold body. Gallien bowed his head, but picked it up when he heard the sound of humming from Ferron. On his other side, Chent began to hum as well. Gallien hadn’t heard music in years, yet the melody of the old tune wound its way out of his memory. Softly, Ferron let the music flow:

  O’er forest, hills, and dales I’ve gone,

  Defending what I love,

  I will not tremble anymore,

  I’m coming home at last.

  Wiping tears from his face, Gallien looked once more at his dear friend before turning back to the forest, east toward Seirnkov. “You’re right.” he said to Ferron and Chent. “Soon, this will all be over.”

  The Fortress

  Chapter Forty Three

  ~Morning, February 25th

  Kyan
awoke to a knock at his door. He opened his eyes and stared at the cold stone ceiling above him.

  Most of the Evertauri had been able to escape from Port Dellock after the Cerebrians discovered their entrance. Barely getting away but suffering only a dozen casualties, they had made their way north to the Nexus with Kyan.

  Someone knocked at his door again. Kyan put his feet on the cold gray floor and walked over to the small, goblin-made door and opened it. “Hello Kyan,” said Raelynn. She stood there in a black robe, looking drained and stressed.

  “Good morning.” said Kyan.

  “How was your first night in Nexus?” asked Raelynn.

  “Couldn’t sleep very well, it’s cold down here in these tunnels.” Kyan reached to the side to put on shoes.

  “It’s colder up on the surface, your Ferramish winters are much milder than Cerebria’s.”

  Kyan nodded. “What’d you come here for?”

  Raelynn attempted a smile. “. . . The meeting with my father.”

  Kyan smacked his forehead. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, it’s hard to keep track of time down here. You still won’t tell me what it’s about?”

  “Follow me.” Raelynn said with a smile.

  When they arrived at Madrick’s office, Borius, Aunika — along with a few others Kyan recognized from his memories as Calleneck — sat around a long table. You don’t know these people, Kyan reminded himself. You don’t know much about the Evertauri.

  The people in the room stood up, and Madrick walked over to Kyan, extending a hand. “Welcome.”

  “President Nebelle,” said Kyan to Madrick, trying to act as though he’d never met him as Calleneck, “it’s a great honor.”

  “Please sit.” said Madrick. Kyan took a seat at the table with about a dozen others. After introductions, Madrick spoke. “Kyan, we’ve heard about your experience spying and thieving . . . we want to put those skills to use for us.” The room was silent, and the only movement was from the little silver ornaments and instruments that spun and glittered in the room. “There is a stone that Xandria possesses; it was created by a sorceress named Silverbrook.”

  Kyan’s insides turned cold with the realization.

  Madrick continued. “Based on evidence that Aunika Bernoil has discovered while working undercover at Xandria’s fortress, and based on evidence her brother Calleneck and Sir Borius Shipton found in the goblin capital of Rjarnsk, we believe that this stone holds an immense power. We fear that Xandria could use it against us, to destroy the Evertauri and the Ferramish army.”

  Kyan’s mind raced. Of course! Silverbrook created the stone, Tronum had it, Xandria wanted it, Whittingale recruited the Nightsnakes to steal it, Riccolo got me to steal it, I gave it to Riccolo who gave it to Whittingale who shipped it to Seirnkov before he was killed!

  Madrick continued. “We need you to steal it and bring the stone to us.”

  Kyan’s heart pounded. Steal it? . . . I’m the reason it’s in Xandria’s hands in the first place . . . but maybe now I can set this right.

  Madrick continued. “It’s the only way we may be able to win. The stone has to be used by a sorcerer — we didn’t think any were loyal to Xandria . . . but it is possible that there are.”

  “Who does Xandria want to use it?” said Kyan, already guessing.

  Madrick paused for a moment. “We have reason to believe that a sorceress named Selenora Everrose — who we thought was killed last year — may still be alive in a state called limbo, where your soul rests halfway between life and death. If she comes back, she could use the stone to destroy us. We need you to get it back to us before anything happens.”

  Kyan froze for a minute. “Do you intend on using it?”

  Madrick looked at Borius and then back to Kyan. “. . . We will do with it what we see fit for the situation. Our spies tell us that, although they suffered many casualties, the Ferramish forces defeated thousands of Cerebrians in Endlebarr. Prince Fillian and the Ferramish army have pressed their way through the countryside, taking village after village. We think they will arrive in Seirnkov within a day or two. The entire remaining Cerebrian army has been arriving in Seirnkov the past two days — numbers in the tens of thousands. The training camps at Vashner and Roshk have been emptied and all sent here. Xandria is ready for battle.”

  Borius, who had not yet spoken, added, “Tomorrow night we will be in the fray of the last battle of this war. If the Ferramish army and its allies can overcome Xandria’s forces and kill her, Cerebria will surrender. If they cannot, we will be trapped in the city with the Ferramish army and will die. Two thirds of all Ferramish troops will soon arrive in this city. If they all die, there will be few left to defend Ferramoor. Xandria would take Ferramoor and then begin her conquest over the entire continent — The Northlands, Eiland, The Southlands, The Crandles, Parusmare-”

  Madrick rubbed his thin beard. “We will have lost.” The room sat in silence. “But you can help us. The battle will happen soon no matter what we do. Thousands of Ferramish troops will flood the city and battle against thousands of Cerebrian troops. The Ferrs have traveled hundreds of miles and are weary. I doubt they will succeed without our help.”

  Kyan knew his decision but still struggled to respond. It’s my fault Xandria has the stone. He sat up straighter. “I . . . I’ll get you the stone.”

  Borius smiled in relief. “Aunika Bernoil will give you the information you’ll need on the whereabouts of the stone, all the people you will need to get past, and the best passageways for you to reach the stone and then hopefully escape.”

  Kyan looked over at Aunika. Don’t give it away that you know her, he told himself. Aunika reached down and pulled out five different scrolls. “These are maps of Xandria’s fortress.” she said, unfolding them to show Kyan. “It will be hard getting in and even harder getting out. There are stationed guards at each entrance to every wing of her fortress. Eight different watchtowers line the grounds, with guards constantly scanning the streets below and the courtyards within the fortress . . . not to mention the fact that for three blocks around it, aristocratic mansions with their own guards line the streets.”

  Kyan took a look at one of the maps depicting the south side of the fortress. “Who will be with me?”

  One of the other people at the table, Sir Kishk, one of the trainers for new Evertauri spoke. “You’ll have a team of a few others waiting at various points in the fortress-”

  “Including me.” said Aunika.

  Borius turned to Kyan. “They’ll be there to help you and take over in case anything goes wrong.”

  Aunika pointed to locations on the maps. “You’ll have Evertauri here on the south side, here on the east, and I will be here by the bell tower. We hope to be ready to begin tonight an hour after sunset.”

  “Where do we enter?” asked Kyan.

  “Through the main gate.” said Aunika.

  “How will we go unseen?”

  A silver flame danced around Madrick’s fingers as he spoke. “Aunika will enter normally; she works there at the fortress. The remaining Evertauri who you will be with will enter inside a cart of potatoes we will ‘ship’ to the fortress. One of our Evertauri, Lillia Hane, has placed an order for that cart of potatoes to be transported tonight. She will guide you through the gate where you’ll be carted into food storage.”

  Aunika pointed to the map. “Which is here.” She then explained to Kyan the route to the technological wing and the room where the stone was kept.

  Madrick clasped his hands together. “Kyan, if anything should happen, give the stone to one of the Evertuari.” Madrick pulled out of his pocket what looked like a tiny black stone the size of a pea, and handed it to Kyan.

  “What is this?” said Kyan, taking it. From the silence in the room that followed, Kyan could tell exactly what it was. Kyan whispered to himself, “It’s for if I’m captured.” Kyan’s heart pounded, and he put it in his pocket and shut it with a button.

  Madrick looked around the table. “B
e ready by sunset. Good luck to you all.”

  ◆◆◆

  ~Sunset

  The golden rays of sun had just begun to dip toward the horizon when Kyan, Lillia, and four other Evertauri arrived in a small cobblestone alleyway on the surface. A light snow had begun to drift down from the sky, and the very last light of day was disappearing to the west. The Evertauri set down their giant bags of potatoes they had hauled up from the Nexus.

  Lillia turned to them. “Do you have everything you’ll need?”

  Kyan and the others nodded.

  Lillia scanned the alleyway. “Alright, you all just get in the cart, and then I’ll cover you up.” The others nodded and climbed into the cart, using the wheel to step up.

  As Kyan stepped onto the wheel, he heard footsteps running towards them. Alarmed, he turned to see Raelynn running up to him. He stepped down onto the street and asked her if everything was okay.

  A little out of breath, Raelynn nodded. “Yes- yes, everything is fine . . .” She looked at the others getting into the cart. “I just- I wanted to wish you luck.”

  Kyan felt as if she was holding something back. He nodded, noticing the way her hair glowed in the light of the sunset — the same as when he had first seen her in Aunestauna. “Thank you.” He gestured toward Lillia, who was occupied speaking to the other Evertauri. Kyan looked back to Raelynn. “Lillia’s going to take care of us.”

  Raelynn nodded, but her face hung sad and heavy. “Kyan . . . Xandria’s forces are dangerous. The Ferrs are coming and the city is going to burn and-”

  Kyan reassured her, “It’s going to be fine, Raelynn. We have it all planned out.” He gave her a small smile.

  She looked into Kyan’s eyes for a moment or two before embracing him. A few tears dripped from her eyes onto Kyan’s shoulder. Slowly letting go, she looked back into his eyes. “Just-.” Raelynn took a deep breath. “Just be careful.”