Reign of Darkness

by Michaela Riley Karr

  Sam and Evan stared at me in awe, both of them beginning to nod slowly as the idea seeped in. We had always figured that what happened at the Archimage Palace last year was common knowledge. How Rhydin invaded and slew Dathian by magical means. Apparently, it was not.

  “I’ll give you a hand, Lina, you have a point. But, do you really think Rhydin’s stupid enough to fall for that? He had the element of surprise and his backup numbered in the hundreds. Even if magic was necessary to defend himself, I guarantee you, he’d have had one of his old Followers take the fall for him,” Rachel chided, her blue eyes narrowing and turning to ice. “I promise to take your idea under consideration, but that was not the time nor the place for it.”

  I wilted, childishly refusing to believe her. I could have done it. Just one, well-aimed spell from that balcony directed at Rhydin, and all this would have been over. A balcony that was…hundreds of yards away. Where anyone could have seen it coming and raised a shield. Or Eli, Terran, or any of the other old Followers with magic could have countered it, and faced the consequences later.

  Rhydin was nearly three hundred years old and had been planning out everything for centuries. Trying to kidnap Evan and I as children, orchestrating Duunzer and the war, and pinning the blame on Dathian. He surely had measures in place to keep his magical abilities hidden.

  Rachel may have been right this time, but I would outsmart those measures if it was the last thing I did. I sighed heavily, “Fine.”

  My red-haired friend nodded, albeit grudgingly. I hoped she was telling the truth when she said she’d consider trying to make my plan happen. She turned to the others and announced, “We make camp here. The Royals have already been transported back to their respective hiding places. Tomorrow, we move out.”

  Chapter Five

  W e spent the night in what appeared to be an abandoned rock quarry that had once gnawed an entire chunk out of one of the mountains, like a giant had taken a bite out of it. Aside from that, and the fact I could still vaguely smell the ocean on the other side of the range, we were never told where in Lunaka the Ranguvariians had transported us when Rhydin threatened the Archimage Palace.

  Sam and I remained wordless throughout the evening and into the morning, when we all awoke to find ourselves covered in leftover white powder from the old excavation site. I could sense his temper radiating from him, and I wondered, as we went about our usual routine of readying our children for the day in a strange place, if he had willingly gone with the Ranguvariian who evacuated him from the palace, or kicking and screaming as I had. I decided not to ask since he was here and wasn’t currently threatening to leave to go find the Rounans.

  When we set off the next morning, I was surprised to discover that we would be traveling the old-fashioned way on horseback instead of Ranguvariian transportation. Rachel and Jaspen were both convinced that Rhydin had somehow tracked our transportation from the burning Rounan compound to the Archimage Palace using some sort of magical residue, a theory that flew right over my head.

  Therefore, several Ranguvariians brought us horses in the night, and the sight of them made my shoulders slump. This journey was going to take far longer than I ever imagined. Especially once I realized that with our young children, the horses would have to walk instead of gallop or even trot. It was going to take at least two weeks to reach Canis, the port town in southeastern Lunaka where I would take my feet from Nerahdian soil for the first time in my entire life.

  The first day passed in silence, most of us still absorbing the shock of Rhydin’s numbers and ability to find us so quickly, so I spent my time looking at the scenery and making sure my gelding remained on the hardened path ahead of us to avoid leaving tracks. At the end of the third day, I stiffly slid from my saddle, my muscles roaring with pain. I was iffy on when the last time I’d ridden a horse was, but I knew that I’d never done it three days in a row.

  Bow-legged, I set Rayna on the ground. She squealed in delight after being stuck in the saddle with me all day besides a few breaks, and I turned to unpack my horse. As I did, my eyes caught the sight of something familiar on the horizon, barely visible with the setting sun. It looked like nothing more than a deep wrinkle in Lunaka’s face from this distance, but the meager firelights scattered around it and the vague silhouette of Lunaka Castle confirmed my suspicions.

  The canyon that housed Soläna. The city of my childhood that I had not laid eyes on since the day Duunzer covered it in darkness.

  My heart ached. I stared at it for as long as I could. The sun was dropping rapidly beyond my city, making the canyon and the land around it appear the most brilliant of crimsons. The constant Lunakan wind was subsiding slightly, and I knew Lunaka’s twin moons were rising behind me as I faced west.

  Sam came to stand next to me just as the last vestiges of light disappeared behind the western mountains, and the shape of the canyon and its castle sank into darkness. It had been his childhood home as well. Sam rested a heavy hand lined with blisters from the leather reins, identical to the ones on my own hands, on my shoulder.

  I looked to him slowly, and our eyes met. Things still hadn’t quite gone back to normal after our argument just before Rhydin’s armies arrived, but when he leaned forward and planted a kiss on my forehead, I put my faith in the hope that everything would be okay. He silently walked away to help Cayce collect some firewood, leaving me wishing for more and wondering if I should have broken the silence first.

  Once Luke and James got the campfire going, I gingerly lowered my tired, aching body to the ground close enough to its heat and far enough that I could watch Kylar and Rayna to keep them away from it. I pushed my rucksack under my head and pulled out the history book to which the strange presence had guided me. I’d stopped hiding it after leaving the palace, and all of my companions seemed to think it was a book from home.

  I stared at its worn cover for a few moments, wondering when I would get a response from Frederick to my last letter. At least half of it was a list of words I was trying to define so that I could read this book, although the other half did try to strike up some new conversations as well as ask if he’d spoken to anyone yet about Rhydin’s true nature. I was just about to crack the book open for another go when Evan sat down next to me.

  My brother closed his eyes and leveled his chin in concentration, just as he had started doing every evening since our journey had begun. I watched him discreetly, fascinated by this process but too afraid to admit that I didn’t understand it at all.

  At such close proximity, I could feel Evan’s magic swell within him, like the first light of a sunrise. My own power responded within me at such a surge, the twin of Evan’s, which was what always made it impossible for me to ignore Evan’s spell. Even Rayna would sometimes look to her uncle suddenly in confusion, even though I knew well enough that her magic hadn’t awakened yet.

  In front of Evan, a small, golden orb materialized, about the size of a cherry before growing to roughly the size of a crabapple. Then, the orb became oblong with an offshoot as Evan reopened his eyes and muttered, “Anadlu.”

  Instantaneously, the yellow blob burst like a bubble, and in its place was the usual adorable squirrel, its fuzzy fur black as midnight just like the rest of Lunaka’s squirrels. Evan watched it for a few moments, as he always did although I didn’t know why. Then, he whispered, “Keep an eye on the camp. Alert me if you see anyone.”

  The squirrel bobbed its tiny head and then scampered off into the small patch of woods we had stopped in for the night to do its master’s bidding. Evan had created an Einanhi. That much, I could understand.

  I tucked tonight’s creation into the back of my mind as I had done the other two evenings I had witnessed this, ready to turn my attention back to my book. It didn’t do to dwell on a cute, tiny creature who was destined to dissolve into sand in the morning when Evan’s purpose for it was fulfilled. I was thumbing to the first page when Evan caught my eye before I could keep my watching from his notice.

&nb
sp; He measured my slightly fear-filled expression at having been discovered, and then he cracked a rare grin. “You don’t know how to make one. Do you?”

  Heat flushed my cheeks. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

  Evan chuckled, “Do you want to learn?”

  Alas, my brother had discovered my weakness.

  I slapped my book shut and returned it to its home in my rucksack, carefully wrapped in a swatch of leather to protect it from my journey. As I scooted closer to my brother, Evan eyed my movements suspiciously with those Allyen eyes of his. “What is that book you read every evening anyway?”

  “Uh…” I stuttered, freezing slightly as I thought. “Nothing really. I haven’t entirely found out to be honest. It’s a…project I’m working on with Frederick.”

  “Oh. Interesting. You’ll have to tell me about it when you’re finished.” Evan gave a small grin before his face relaxed into his usual somber mask. “Daniel was the one who taught me how to really use my magic” – Evan paused, but he didn’t allow any emotion to cross his face at the mention of the deceased Auklian king – “While he could never create an Einanhi himself, he was able to supply me books with which I could teach myself. Creating an Einanhi requires very complicated and rather powerful magic. It is not a feat that any mage can accomplish, especially the larger and more complex the creature becomes. I can’t create anything much larger than a small dog myself, but I haven’t really tried to make anything bigger.”

  My ears soaked up every word like a sponge. I had encountered so many Einanhis in the last several years, yet I still didn’t fully understand how they worked. I knew they were shells of magic and not truly living from my time receiving magic lessons from Frederick in the Owenses’ basement. And, I knew that Rhydin had created all of the Einanhis I’d met so far: Duunzer, the dragon that covered Nerahdis in darkness, Birdie, the little bird that lived next to my childhood home that had been spying on me, and the countless, bland-featured humanoids that Rhydin had among his ranks.

  But as to what went into creating them? How they actually worked? No idea.

  “First, you have to really concentrate on your magic, focusing it out in front of you. You’ll need to make sure you have your half of the locket too, because doing this is downright impossible without it,” Evan stated, his hands moving absentmindedly. “I don’t have enough power to make another Einanhi tonight. Since I gave my power to my squirrel willingly, I’ll be back to tip top shape in the morning, even if I don’t reabsorb it like I usually do. That’s why Rhydin has so many Einanhis running around without it affecting his power. His magic just regenerates after making them since he did it on purpose.”

  I thought for a moment. “Is there ever a time where your magic wouldn’t regenerate after making an Einanhi?”

  “The only time your magic would ever not come back is if someone steals it from you, but that’s pretty rare,” Evan admitted. “There’s a lot of science involved in that like your magic and the thief’s magic being perfectly compatible and a bunch of other complicated circumstances. Plus, you’d really have to screw up making your Einanhi. It’s really only possible in prime conditions, so you really don’t have to worry about it, I promise.”

  I nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue as Sam and Cayce returned to the camp, their arms laden with firewood.

  “I’ll try to talk you through this the best I can. You’ll want to decide in your mind what kind of creature you want to create, and then picture it the best you can. How big is it? What sounds does it make? What does it smell like, and what kind of texture does it have? How does it move? All that is why I usually make a squirrel,” Evan chuckled, “They’re pretty straight forward. The hard part is pushing your magic out of yourself and into that form. It’s a precarious process, and if one thing goes wrong, you’re in trouble.”

  “Trouble?” I asked, my brow furrowing. “What kind of trouble?”

  “Well, if you don’t give the Einanhi enough magic, then it’ll die or be deficient physically or mentally when you create it,” my brother answered as he grimaced. “Then again, if you give it too much magic, it’ll disconnect from your will entirely and be uncontrollable.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” I murmured and turned to stare at the fire, thinking of how mindless it must be to only exist to fulfill another’s will.

  “Very,” he said firmly. “Even when given too much power, it’s not like an Einanhi is given all the same instincts as a real animal or reasoning abilities and emotions as a real human. An uncontrollable squirrel is one thing…an uncontrollable dragon or humanoid like what Rhydin makes? It could be absolutely devastating for not only the creator, but all of Nerahdis. That’s also the kind of situation where you could suddenly find all your power stolen if the conditions are absolutely perfect.”

  The blood drained from my face. I imagined Duunzer not under any sort of control. Rhydin may have created it to destroy, but he had mostly been focused on finding me and taking my locket. As hard as it was to believe, Duunzer had its limits, albeit destructive ones. If it had been left to its own devices… I shuddered at the thought of how much more pain, devastation, and death it would have likely wrought.

  “You have a point,” I responded quietly. “How do I know whether I’ve given the Einanhi too much or too little of my magic?

  Evan’s eyes glazed over as he peered off into the distance. “To be honest, it’s one of those things that just comes with time. You have no idea how many squirrels I’ve made that couldn’t move their limbs or almost bit my fingers off. With practice, you’ll find the thin line down the middle.”

  A shiver ran down my spine.

  “Once you’ve given your Einanhi the exact right amount of power, the only thing left is to speak the incantation. While we normally don’t have to speak a word to cast our magic, creating Einanhis requires such a massive amount of power that it’s necessary to finish the spell,” Evan said seriously as his eyes drifted to the fire. “Rhydin is so ridiculously powerful that he doesn’t have to speak the incantation. He can just think it, and the Einanhi is. I’ve seen him do it once.”

  Fear crept into my heart. Yet another reminder of how much power Rhydin wielded. How could one man be so powerful? I turned to Evan slowly. “The word you said. Anadlu. What does it mean?”

  Evan met my gaze. “It means ‘breathe.’ In Old Gornish. Just like ‘Einanhi’ means ‘puppet,’ though that word made the transition into our modern Gornish language that developed when our ancestors moved from Gornan to Nerahdis.”

  That information washed over me, definitely the kind of history they didn’t teach in the village schools. I let myself sit in it and absorb it, along with all the steps of creating an Einanhi, trying to commit them to memory. I would have been content to sit like that for the rest of the evening until we went to sleep if Evan hadn’t interrupted me.

  “Try to make an Einanhi.”

  “What? Now?” I asked panickily, my fingers digging into the dirt around me. “You literally just gave me a verbal lesson, and you want me to try and make one right now?”

  “Why not?” Evan shrugged. “It’s not like we’re busy doing anything else.”

  I anxiously looked around the fire. Sam had Kylar in his lap and was feeding him hardtack and beans from the blackened kettle over the fire. Rayna looked like she had already been fed and was passed out on a blanket next to her father. Cayce had come to curl up next Evan, resting their tiny son against her chest. I couldn’t tell if she was awake or not, there were such circles under her closed eyelids.

  After building the campfire, Luke and James had disappeared, likely on guard duty with Evan’s Einanhi squirrel, and Jaspen and Bartholomiiu snoozed next to the fire, probably readying for the next shift. Rachel sat quietly next to her slumbering mate, looking lost in thought. I hoped they all stayed that way so I wouldn’t have much of an audience.

  My heart began to hammer out of my chest. I didn’t feel prepared for this at all!

 
“You can do it,” Evan reassured me. “It definitely won’t be perfect, but you won’t learn without trying.”

  I pushed air into my cheeks, probably appearing much like Evan’s squirrel, and then blew it out slowly, biding my time as I ran through all of the steps again. My hand left the dirt and reached for my locket, which hung around my neck just as it did every hour of every day for as long as I could remember. It still helped to hold its warm metal when I really needed to focus on the magic in my body.

  Instead of a squirrel, I imagined a bird. Small, easy to think of, right? A bird no bigger than the palm of my hand, one with the bright red plumage of a Lunakan wren. I played its song in my head: a high-pitched squeal accompanied by light coos and rattles. Once I had the image of the bird firmly in my mind, I pushed my magic outward, and a gold orb appeared just like with Evan’s Einanhi. I tried not to let myself get too excited, and instead focused on how much magic I needed to give this little bird. I could feel my magic siphoning from me already, and I panicked. What if I had already given it too much?

  As the orb grew to the size of a lemon with a few golden sprigs growing from it, I hurriedly whispered the incantation, “Anadlu!”

  The bubble of magic popped, revealing a beautiful Lunakan wren, but only seconds passed before the little Einanhi collapsed into a pile of feathers. I gasped and leaned forward on my knees over it, and the poor bird stared up at me with its beady eyes, chirping weakly. It reminded me of a baby bird I’d found as a child after it had fallen out of its nest. I couldn’t hardly look at it. The sight of such a tiny animal in such a state stabbed my heart, and I immediately turned to Evan, warbling, “What’s wrong with it? How do I fix it?”