Reign of Darkness

by Michaela Riley Karr

  Lily paused and turned, saying slyly, “Maybe. What’s it worth to you?”

  Chapter Nine

  “I

  told ya, your Lunakan pieces are no good here! Don’t bother coming back until you trade that junk for Caarkian pounds!” a thick-waisted man with chocolate-colored skin spat at me for the third time in three days.

  I groaned, “And I told you that we just arrived and don’t have any Caarkian pounds yet! I have children to feed!”

  “I’m sorry, lass, but there’s nothin’ I can do! None of the Three Kingdoms’ money is worth anything here,” the shopkeeper shrugged, the dimmest of sparks of sympathy in his eyes. “You immigrants are flooding our economy. If you can’t find a job, you better find someone heading back to the Continent to trade with.”

  I heaved a heavy sigh and thrust my useless Lunakan money back into my pocket, releasing the small crate of what I had considered bare necessities and abandoning it on the counter. The small store was jam-packed with people of every culture. The Caarkians were nearly outnumbered by the plethora of Mineraltins, Auklians, and Lunakans that rubbed shoulders with each other fighting for the last bag of coffee or the meager stack of canned beans.

  Of course, all the Caarkian fares were mostly untouched; fresh, sweet-smelling fruit I’d never seen before, tiny sea creatures that looked more like insects in a big tank of water, and a green, creamy liquid that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know its origin. We were not the only ones haggling with the shopkeeper or his assistants to accept Lunakan pieces, Mineraltin dollars, or Auklian bars.

  “It’ll be okay, Lina,” Cayce called into my ear over the ruckus of the store. “Sam found a job this morning, and I started mine yesterday. We’ll just ration out what we have left from our journey a little longer.”

  “All we have left is half a bag of deer jerky and a handful of hardtack that I’m not sure is even edible anymore,” I whined as we exited the claustrophobic shop.

  Outdoors wasn’t much better, and I found myself wavering between clinging to the walls of the various shops while weaving through thick foot traffic and taking my chances in the middle of the sandy road where small buggies threatened to run over anything in their way. I usually heard at least one person get hit every time we entered the swollen, port city of Calitia. I’d never realized how much I was used to the tiny Rounan Compound, where you could shop sometimes without ever seeing another soul aside from the shopkeeper, until we entered Calitia for the first time three days ago.

  “All we can do is the best we can,” my sister-in-law retorted before she took hold of my hand and yanked me down the nearest alleyway rather than trying to do battle with either the boardwalk or the road. “Now, let’s get out of this disaster zone.”

  The two of us walked quietly for a few moments, waiting for the roar of the city’s heart to die down, our arms painfully empty. Just as we were reaching the end of the alleyway, which resulted in the horizon opening up before us between crystalline blue sky and thick greenery that knotted the sand together beneath our feet, I mumbled, “Y’know, when I started hearing the rumors of people considering leaving Nerahdis for Caark, I imagined Caark a lot bigger.”

  Cayce shrugged, “Perhaps, there are more people out there unhappy with having an emperor than you thought. Not just the Rounans. That’s good for us, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know,” I responded just as my foot got caught by a strand of sticky ivy. “The few people I’ve managed to question about their opinions of Rhydin since arriving seem to have written off the Three Kingdoms entirely and aren’t interested in going back. Or, they’re Rounans terrified of returning after the effort it took to get here. Apparently, our shipwreck hasn’t been the only one Rhydin has caused.”

  “I see the problem,” Cayce mused as we finally reached the path through the island vegetation that led north. “Well, then. I guess it’s a good thing we’ll be headed back to the Continent soon since Rhydin knows we’re here. We need supporters who care about the Three Kingdoms. Ones that live there and are invested in their futures.”

  I scowled, “Yeah, tell that to Rachel. All she can think about is trying to get a house built, and I just can’t figure out why when the rest of what comes out of her mouth is about how we need to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”

  “I do often wonder if my sister is crazy,” a light-hearted voice came out of nowhere, “but she usually reveals a method to her madness eventually!”

  Cayce and I jumped, both of us reaching out with our hands to be ready to blast a spell in any direction, but it was only James who peeped out of the overgrown brush ahead of us, his round face amused.

  “James, for heaven’s sake, I could have snapped you like a twig!” Cayce chastised as she tossed a lavender curl over her shoulder, her Rounan mark flashing from under her silk sleeve.

  Rachel’s youngest brother tossed his shaggy, brown head and laughed, “I’d like to see you try! But then again, maybe I don’t. Anyway, it’s about time you two got here! Any luck?”

  “What’s it look like?” I grumbled as I flashed my empty hands. James’s expression drooped.

  Cayce started walking again before James could declare his disappointment. “Come along, you two. Sam may have been lucky enough to find a job in Calitia, but mine is in Aemita and I’m going to be fired if we don’t get going! We can’t take that risk since the rest of you couldn’t find one.”

  “What can I say? My only skill is farming and Evan’s is playing his violin. Neither of those are particularly in demand here,” I replied as I began a steady pace. “At least Sam can put his handyman skills to work.”

  “He’s trying, Lina. He’s been working all hours of the day to make up for blowing our cover.” Cayce smiled at me sadly, and then our small group melted into silence.

  We walked along at a pretty good clip for close to an hour before the greenery thinned out and a few trees – and by trees, I mean more like oversized plants compared to the beautiful branches I was used to at home – popped up. Our small caravan had set up camp in what could probably be described as a dead zone between the cities of Calitia and Aemita.

  Caark was so small that people didn’t seem to really travel back and forth between the towns at all; each town already possessed everything that people needed so there was no point in traveling to a different one, especially since horses seemed to be a luxury item. This resulted in an area of little traffic for us, which was what we all thought was best for keeping a low profile. There was one small shack maybe half a mile to the east of our chosen spot. It appeared to be inhabited, but none of us had seen who lived there. They seemed to be recluses.

  As we approached our campsite, the usual fire roaring in the center, Cayce took off at a faster pace, greeted Evan and Aron, their baby, briefly, and then trotted away to the south for her job with promises of bringing food back if she happened to be paid today. Evan watched her go wistfully before pushing himself back up to the frame of Rachel’s house that was slowly taking shape from the available, free materials around us, namely tree trunks, until we had money.

  Bartholomiiu, Luke, and, to my surprise, Jaspen all stood in three corners of the skeleton house, and James rushed to join them in the fourth as Evan and Rachel rushed around securing them in place as straight as possible. Jaspen had left Caark shortly after our arrival for some important business back in the Ranguvariian Camp. He must have just returned.

  Instead of joining them, I plopped myself down by the fire and my two napping children. If I had to hear Rachel’s speech of “hurry up, hurry up, we don’t know how much time we have before Rhydin arrives to capture us” in the middle of building what appeared to be a very permanent structure, I would pull my hair out.

  Therefore, the hours passed slowly as midmorning melted into noontime as surely as the sun reached its zenith in the clear, cloudless sky. I could feel the burn of my skin under its gaze, regardless of the hours upon hours I’d spent in the saddle this year frying myself, and my cl
othing began to stick to me as the island humidity soared. A few times, my eyes wandered to the strange little shack within eyesight of our campsite, and I wondered about the people who lived there. I was heating the very last of our stew on the fire while dreading the coming of evening and its thousands of little buzzing things that left itchy, red welts all over me when Rachel finally called for a lunch break.

  All the boys hopped down from their various assignments before the words had completely left Rachel’s mouth. They urgently grabbed the nearest bowl only to have them be quarter-filled on top of one shred of jerky and one rock-hard lump of something that had no business being related to bread. I cringed as I ladled out the sad excuse for a meal, and there was more than one pair of male eyes that turned away disappointed. Rachel, however, remained stoically standing within the framework, turned away from the rest of us.

  I made up a bowl for her and walked the short distance between the campfire and the shack-to-be before offering it to her silently. She reacted like I had broken a deep train of thought and gazed at the bowl as if it was foreign to her. It took a moment or two for her to accept it from me, and yet another moment before she pinched the hardtack between two fingers and tried to use it to mop up some stew to make it edible. I watched her soundlessly before beginning to turn back for a bowl of my own, but she stopped me in my tracks with three little words.

  “You were right.”

  I gaped at her for a second. “What do you mean?”

  “About leaving the Three Kingdoms. That we can’t discover and grow discontent with Rhydin’s empire from Caark,” Rachel mumbled as she stared at the foot of one of the corner posts.

  “Uh…okay. What’s bringing this on?” I asked skeptically, crossing my arms over my chest. Although, I wasn’t going to lie, I could feel my ego growing now that she had admitted that I’d been right all along.

  “It was moronic of me to think that we could all just disappear to Caark without Rhydin finding us. I just wanted you to be safe.” Rachel peered down at me, her blue eyes sad. “Also, I’ve overheard the conversations you’ve tried to create with the native Caarkians and the other immigrants. That none of them really care about Rhydin or what he’s doing, the supposed good he pretends to do and the bad he’s capable of. We’re not going to find any help here like I’d once hoped.”

  “So, does that mean we’ll return to the Three Kingdoms?” I asked, trying in vain to keep the smile of victory off my face.

  Rachel leveled her gaze at me in such a way that immediately struck any joy from my being. “Not all of us.”

  My brow furrowed. I eyed the frame of the building in which we stood a little harder. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been in nearly constant communication with my grandfather for the last three days. That’s why Jaspen hasn’t been around until now, so I could speak to him through Jaspen and I’s matrii connection,” Rachel responded slowly, her eyes drifting to the foot of the corner post again. “It’s been decided that you and Evan should return to the mainland to begin creating some sort of rebellion against Rhydin, as well as to continue the search for the heir to Auklia, the woman in Archimage Dathian’s portrait miniature. That’s of the utmost importance now that Caark is no longer an option for you.”

  I stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to continue speaking. When she didn’t, I interjected, “But?”

  Rachel’s eyes were threatening to brim over with tears when she looked at me again. “You have to go. But I have to stay.”

  “Why?” I demanded, my voice shooting up.

  “Because I am no longer your Alyen nou Clarii,” Rachel blubbered. “My grandfather has reassigned me to be Rayna’s protector, and the children are to remain here in Caark.”

  Abruptly, I felt like a rug had been pulled out from under me, even though my boots remained firmly planted in the grassy sand of Caark. Confusion washed over me like rolling waves. I squeaked, “You have been saying this whole time that Caark is no longer safe since Rhydin saw Sam! Why in Nerahdis would we leave them here?”

  “Lina, we have a plan in place to make Rhydin think that the children return to the Three Kingdoms with you. You’re facing a life on the road, constantly moving around anywhere from the far east of Caark to the far west of Mineraltir and the Great Desert,” Rachel replied soothingly as she composed herself. “Being out in the open for long periods of time and making contact with strangers who could very well support Rhydin is no place for toddlers. Especially not the future Allyen and Kidek. After everything we went through last year to ensure the Allyen lineage’s continuation, do I really need to say more?”

  I gaped at her angrily, my words stricken from me.

  “It’s true, Caark is no longer safe for you, Evan, and Sam. But if we play our cards correctly, it can become safe for however long we need it to be for Rayna, Kylar, and Aron,” Rachel persuaded.

  “F-For how long?” I stuttered numbly.

  Rachel placed her long hands on my shoulders. “Only as long as it is necessary. Once you start recruiting people to our cause, you’ll have to find some sort of permanent base of operations. Once it’s safe, we’ll all be together again in no time.”

  Her calming words had no effect on me. I couldn’t look at her anymore. I had never once considered that the safest place for our children wasn’t even on the same landmass as Sam and I. My gaze cautiously rotated back toward where Kylar and Rayna were jabbering to one another in a mixed language of words I recognized and some I didn’t. I thought I had won at the notion of returning to the Three Kingdoms to gain as many supporters as possible, yet now I felt like I had lost more than I thought I could lose.

  Rachel seemed to sense that there were no more words that could be said. She wandered away from me before returning briefly with the last of the stew and hardtack in another bowl. As she handed it to me, I forced one more word out of my mouth, “When?”

  “As soon as the house is finished,” she answered before leaving me once again.

  I stared at the skeleton frame around me with new eyes. There were very simple corner posts in a basic, square design. They were connected at the tops with the beginnings of a roof outlined above. They’d need actual lumber before being able to do much else, which was outrageously expensive since it was imported from Mineraltir, but still. We likely had no more than a week with our kids.

  How was I going to tell Sam when he got home?

  Time ceased to exist around me. I managed to force myself to eat the now cold stew in my bowl and even choke down the hardtack without breaking any teeth, but aside from that, my mind seeped away into its own recesses. How could this be happening? Was there any possible solution that kept us all together and led back to Nerahdis to begin creating a rebellion? My mind racked itself for answers endlessly as my brother and the Ranguvariians returned to their work on the measly shack that would take my children from me.

  I kept Kylar and Rayna close to me throughout the afternoon. I soaked up their words and their smells. The feel of Kylar’s soft hair that was growing in as muddy brown as my own, and Rayna’s firm grasp on my fingers. I may have only given birth to one of them, but there was no difference for me now.

  As the sun stretched toward the horizon, I ignored the progress on the house. The humidity began to intensify as I had discovered it often did during these island evenings, and I cleared my mind enough to watch for the little buzzing things that made us itch.

  A sense of relief washed over me once it was dark enough that the building crew stopped for the night, but it didn’t last long before another wave of anxiety flooded me upon sight of Sam striding in from the north with a bag strapped to his back and some wooden boards stacked and perfectly balanced on his shoulder. Cayce, too, arrived with another small bag from the south.

  “Please tell me that at least one of those bags has food in it!” chimed James as Sam and Cayce neared the campfire.

  “Yes,” Cayce answered sweetly as she sat with her bag in her lap, “althoug
h I warn you, the exotic, Caarkian stuff is far easier to buy than the stuff we’re used to, so you may have to broaden your horizons, James.”

  The youngest Ranguvariian quirked his eyebrow. “Ranguvariian food has way more flavor than the stuff you Lunakans eat. If beef stew or bread and cheese ever went out of style, you all would starve.”

  Cayce cackled, “You have a point! I’d take my mother’s Auklian cooking over Lunakan any day, but for now, Caarkian will have to do.”

  My attention was dragged away from Sam setting the lumber down near the construction site toward Cayce’s bag that she meticulously unpacked. First, she removed half a dozen small, circular rolls that looked far more orange than the bread I was used to, then a handful of purple orbs the size of apples came after those. In the very bottom of her sack was what looked to be a couple pounds of those same gray, insect-like sea creatures we had seen in the shop that morning.

  Evan turned up his nose at the sight and smell of those, saying, “Of all the meat options on this island, why did you have to buy the ones that look like bugs?”

  “Because fish from Auklia costs an arm and a leg, Evan dear, with beef and goat from Lunaka and venison from Mineraltir being three times that,” Cayce chided, defending her purchases like a child might defend his point of view. She bequeathed the creepy crawlies to Rachel to cook for supper. “Better put whatever we don’t eat tonight in some sort of net in the ocean! If they die before cooking, they turn to poison.”

  Evan blanched even further while Sam added a couple of more normal-looking cans of beans to the pile as well as some greens that looked more like seaweed than something edible. Rachel thanked him for the food and lumber, glanced at me briefly, and then turned to the task of turning the hodge-podge of ingredients into a meal.

  I stood from the campfire and walked timidly toward the now finished frame of the house, catching Sam’s eyes in the process. He didn’t need to be told that I needed to talk to him, and I was thankful for the nonverbal connection we still had even after so many weeks of distance. He followed me soundlessly, and he seemed to sense that what I had to share wasn’t exactly good news. He tilted his head to the side kind of like a puppy as he asked, “What’s wrong?”