by LeRoy Clary
*Anna, Help me,* I demanded and hoped she would respond.
*I’m here.*
*Look into the neck of the king with me. The blackness.*
She didn’t argue, ask silly questions, or hesitate. She was inside my mind, so could “see” what I did when I moved to the king. The black was swelling and near his throat, already cutting off the airway.
Elizabeth asked, “Can you do something?”
I waved her off. If the swelling continued, his throat would soon close, and he would suffocate. Before that happened, I’d used my sword to open his throat with a slice of the blade and place my fingers inside to allow him to breathe if necessary. Rational thinking returned as I realized he would choke in his own blood and I’d have killed a king right in front of the Heir Apparent. I’d never survive the day.
Anna said, *Magic is forcing it to grow. The essence was placed there to draw upon by a mage and use the power to increase the size that horrible black thing.*
*What can I do?*
*The essence!* she shouted in my mind as much as if she yelled in my ear in sudden understanding, *Use it! Drain all the power. All of it. Pull the power stored in the essence and use it to lift everything in that room into the air. Suspend it all.*
She was right. I tapped into the essence and felt the power flow from it to me. I spread it out, lifting the bed Elizabeth had slept on, the sofa, a counter near a wall, a chair. Soon, everything in the room was lifted off the floor and the black supply of essence no longer grew.
It didn’t shrink, but I was using an amount equal to what was being forced into it. I fought to think of something that would use more of the magic—and failed.
*You,* Anna whispered fiercely.
*Me?*
*Lift yourself. And the king and anyone else in the room. Make everyone float in the air.*
The idea was preposterous, but so was the floating bed and other furniture. I knew Elizabeth best, and part of my mind took hold of her body and I strained to lift her.
“What’s happening?” she shouted. “What are you doing?”
“I need to drain more power from the essence,” I grunted as she floated a few inches off the floor.
The prince was as amazed as I was, but the black remained the same size. It was as if even more essence was being forced into the king’s neck. I lifted the prince, then the king, and with sweat popping out on my forehead and armpits, started to levitate myself, my mind stretched to the limit of keeping us all in the air, along with the other things.
I couldn’t lift myself. I concentrated harder.
Anna shouted in my head, *Me too. I’m sucking as much of it away as I can.*
My hands shook. Sweat ran. My head was close to exploding.
The blackness winked out of existence.
Everything fell to the floor, we included. The furniture crashed, a leg of the bed broke, and both Elizabeth and the prince grunted in surprise.
The king clutched his throat—and smiled. His eyes were bright and looked at me. “Thank you.”
Demonstrating my ability to always come up with a witty response, I said, “Huh?”
He said, “It closed my throat so I couldn’t talk and barely breathe. You saved my life.”
*And me,* Anna’s voice danced in my mind. *I helped. Tell him that.*
“Have I told you about our friend, my little sister, Anna?”
“No,” the prince said.
Elizabeth laughed.
I said, “We will talk about her tomorrow.” My energy level, now that the emergency was over, failed. Not only was I not floating but falling. The floor rushed to meet me.
When I woke, Elizabeth was beside me in the bed. She woke when I moved and said, “You’ve been asleep all night and all day. It is almost night again.”
“What’s happened?”
“Oh, quite a lot. The king seems fully recovered and has promised me an army, supplies, support, his treasury, and my choice of his sons. If nothing else, that man holds a grudge for people trying to choke him to death.”
“The mages?” I asked.
“Last I heard, four had died, two were being hunted. I mean, literally hunted by dogs and rewards were offered for their heads. The king doesn’t want their bodies attached to collect the reward, he’s that angry.”
“What else?”
“The two generals the prince mentioned are gathering their men and preparing to march.”
“March? To Dagger and Kaon? There is a sea to cross.”
“In the Brownlands on the other side of the sea is a natural harbor with a river. About every boat in this harbor will be sailing there, no matter if it carried ten men or a hundred, then they will make another trip and another.”
“I’ve missed a lot, I guess.”
“There’s more. Landor is ruled by a cousin of Malawi’s king. He has already dispatched two of his sons, one to Landor, and one to Fairbanks. They will send their troops to meet us when we land our men at the Brownlands.”
“Fairbanks doesn’t have an army,” I said.
“Or navy. But it does have fighting men who will go to war to protect their homes.”
My mind was clearing. “How will we ever get all those men to the north of Dagger to meet up with Prince Angle?”
“We won’t. But we can send a group by ship to coordinate the attack on Dagger, Vin, and Trager attack from the north and Fairbanks, Landor, and Malawi attack from the south.”
I was about to tell her I had to sleep again when Anna came to me. *We got here. We’re near the top of a mountain and found the dragon.*
*Will it live?*
*She, not it.* Anna corrected me gleefully. *Will she live? Yes.*
*What is so funny?*
Anna pushed a burst of sparkles and tinkling sounds at me as she said, *She’s sitting.*
*Sitting?*
*On an egg, silly. The last dragon is going to hatch a baby.*
I should have been happy, but the first thing that entered my mind was that the Young Mage would find out and send every mage, Wyvern, every soldier, headhunter, bounty hunter, outlaw, and any man willing to risk his life for a fortune he and his descendants for generations couldn’t spend. He would send kitchen maids, fishermen, carpenters, cobblers, and more to kill the dragon.
They would all head for my sister. Sisters, I corrected.
But they couldn’t arrive before I did. I said to Elizabeth, “Get me on the first boat. Promise me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
When I awoke again, I was alone. Mentally better, hungry, and alone. A plate of food was on the table, cheese, sliced meat, bread, and fresh water. Enough for two. I ate it all. Since Elizabeth was out doing princess work, I sat on the edge of the bed and closed my eyes because it made mental communicating easier.
*Anna?*
*I’m here.*
*I’ve been sleeping and don’t know what time of the day or night it is.*
*If that is the only reason you are talking to me, I’ll punch you next time I see you.*
*No, there is a lot going on here. When I woke last time after fighting off that essence in the king, Elizabeth was talking about armies from Fairbanks, Landor, and Malawi leaving on ships to the coast near you. I made her promise I’d be on one of the first.*
*That’s wonderful news. Kendra will be excited.*
*I have to go now, but we’ll talk later when I know a few facts.*
*Wait. What about giving me another letter?*
I passed two of them on to her and felt her joy in there being two instead of one. At the rate she was going, we’d be sounding out basic words before long.
The room felt cold, so I wore a blanket like a cape as I explored. There was no consideration of leaving until Elizabeth returned. Aside from dust and the smell of things old and unused, the room contained all a person would need over an extended period of time. A shelf held clothing of all sizes, another food such as nuts and dried fruit that would last season after season. A series of kegs h
eld mild wine and others sour ale.
The bed, sofa, a few small tables, and a large store of candles laid beside flint and steel. Those meager furnishings completed the room. It was safe, not comfortable, probably constructed when the wing of the castle was built, unknown to all but a few . . . and it bothered me. Besides being a safe place to hide, it was a trap.
If enemies forced part of the royal family to hide in the room, after a few days they could only depart to face their enemies and possible execution. It was an unpleasant thought and not the way I’d construct a safe room.
My eyes searched the undecorated walls for the outlines of a hidden door. There were none. The floor was made of flagstones far too heavy to lift. The mortar between them indicated they were permanent. It didn’t make sense.
The musty smell triggered a thought. I’d smelled it before. A cave. I’d explored a cave with Kendra in Dire, an old mineshaft, and it smelled similar. I placed a hand on the wall nearest me and tapped softly, then moved to my left until I’d circumnavigated the room, tapping the entire time.
I went to my knees and began a minute exploration of the floor, moving everything to search under. The bed had a metal railing that fell off and clattered to the stone floor, certain to be heard by anyone in the outer suite of rooms. It hadn’t been attached to the bed but held on with hooks. No demanding pounding came from the door, so I continued searching—and find nothing.
Finally, I sat on my bed again, frustrated and puzzled. The faint smell continued to antagonize me. The room was in disarray, far more than when I’d entered. Knowing the tongue-lashing Elizabeth would give me, I started cleaning.
All went well until it came to attaching the metal railing to the rear of the bed. There were two hooks on the back of the bed to hang it on. That made sense of a sort, but it didn’t provide any support for the bed. What didn’t make sense were two other items. First, was the length of the railing was too long for the bed. While all the rest of the bed was of quality construction, no craftsman would make the railing stick out on each end so far.
The second thing was that I noticed there were small iron hooks at one end of the railing, built to look as if they were part of the overall design, but hooks all the same. The other end of the rails were flattened.
It isn’t a bed railing. It’s a ladder.
The thought sprang into my head as a fact, not conjecture. The slats were steps when it was stood upright. The hooks on one end were there for a reason. I looked at the walls again, with new eyes. At a height my hand could almost reach, a decorative band of molding circled the room. It was at the same height the railing would be if stood on end. My heart pounded. Above the molding was a small section of wall, decorated with geometric designs.
My eyes tracked it, starting at the nearest corner. Nothing stood out. I started on the next and instantly saw a pair of decorative slots cut in the top of the molding, the width of the railing apart. Heart pounding, I lifted the ladder, turned it right-side-up, and moved the top to the slots. It slipped into place as if made for it, which it was. There were posts to hold the hooks in place.
I tested the bottom step and found it solid. Three more and I examined the ceiling above the ladder. There had to be something else. Nobody would go to the trouble to construct the ladder and hide it unless there was a reason.
Up close, located above the molding where it was unseen from below, was a thumbhole. I reached in and lifted. A section of the geometric design pulled free, hinged at the top. Behind it was a tunnel through solid rock and the source of the smell.
It was dark inside. Cobwebs filled it so full I couldn’t see more than a short distance. Before entering the tunnel, I’d want something to clear the cobwebs and a candle. I closed the hatch, removed the latter and replaced it on the bed, and sat on the sofa, letting all sorts of ideas run free.
The tunnel cut into the rock told me it was an escape tunnel, the last resort. It made sense. However, where the tunnel emerged was a weak point in the defense system. If anyone knew, or discovered it, on the outside, they could enter the room and thus the castle.
Nobody had, not recently, the cobwebs said, but my devious mind told me that if the care to build one tunnel and the secret room had been taken—there were more.
A tap at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I peeked through the pinhole and found Elizabeth. I let her inside. Instead of her gown, she wore a pair of work pants, a loose shirt, and a floppy leather hat. Where and why would come later, I assumed.
I still wore my fancy dress clothing.
She started talking from the time the door opened. She and the king had been in the conference for an entire morning. Outside of his private quarters, from a small private balcony, she’d watched the army organizing, gathering supplies, and plans being made. The two mages had not yet been located and I wished I had Kendra’s power to locate them.
Two enemy mages in the palace could be a problem. They might use their magic and call down storms with lightning to destroy the army ships, or worse. They could be attempting to assassinate the king and his sons.
The dying Waystone outside the east gate returned to my thoughts. I hadn’t seen or heard of any magic in Malawi since arriving. Not only was that odd, but there had been no resistance by the four mages who were captured and executed. What mage would allow himself to be captured without using magic to defend himself?
Remembering the small rainstorms I’d created in the desert, I had no doubt I could create a veil of mist to hide me in all but direct sunshine. A true mage could probably do much more to hide or disguise himself. Without having ever done so, I believed I could distort my features enough that nobody would recognize me. A slight change to the cut of my hair, a bit of light brown, and perhaps a distinctive fake scar on my cheek and I could go anywhere unrecognized. Why hadn’t the mages done that to protect themselves?
I believed I knew the answer. I interrupted her dialogue, “The Waystone here is dying. The mages have no essence to draw from, or if they do, it is very little, or they couldn’t have been captured. The only place to obtain more essence is from the Wyvern we’re seen near here and they were too high. We need to tell the king to order them killed on sight. No Wyvern, no magic.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“I have no idea. My magic is as strong as ever, maybe stronger. I can’t explain.”
“We depart in the morning,” she said. “Be ready.”
I wanted to be away from Malawi almost as badly as I had wanted to visit it. It had the feel of a full pot ready to boil over. As if to emphasize that idea, a fist pounding came from the door of the safe room.
We rushed to it, to the small viewport, and outside were soldiers, blades drawn. One charged the door and struck it with his shoulder. If they were sent by the king, they would have identified themselves. Despite the iron bar in place, now that they had discovered the door to the hidden room behind the tapestry, they’d either break through or set it on fire and then enter.
The king might send men to rescue us before that happened. Or he might not.
“We have to go,” I whispered.
She looked at me in surprise. Her eyes flittered around the room in confusion.
“There is a tunnel,” I said softly as I ran for the ladder on her bed. From the sounds of the pounding at the door, and the heavier thumps, some sort of battering ram was in use. The door wouldn’t hold much longer. If I was a better mage, I would cast a magic spell of some kind. I handed Elizabeth a tall metal candlestick. She took it but was confused as I carried the railing to the wall below the trapdoor and set it in place. As she swept past me, up the ladder, I said, “There’s a thumbhole up there.”
I grabbed two candles already lighted, and my sword. The candles stood on small brass holders and we’d need them for light in the tunnel. She already had the trapdoor open and used the long candlestick to sweep ahead and clear away some of the cobwebs. I followed, placed the lighted candles on the floor of the tunnel, and reach
ed back to get rid of the ladder so they wouldn’t find the tunnel.
A sharp lift cleared it off the hooks, and a shove sent it bouncing across the floor where it came to rest, one end leaning on the bed. I couldn’t have planned it better. The thumping on the door increased to heavy booming. The doorframe shook with each new blow.
I lowered the trapdoor carefully and silently crawled to attempt catching up with Elizabeth. She ignored the lack of light ahead as she swung the candlestick from side to side as she moved, collecting an impressive number of cobwebs wrapped on it. I hurried behind, losing ground the entire time. We crawled until my palms were sore, my knees tender, and never slowed.
Elizabeth turned a corner and disappeared. I hurried to catch up. She turned another corner and we crawled down a slight decline and came to a halt. Ahead was a heavy wooden door, a metal bar the diameter of my thumb set into the wall. She lifted one end and let it drop. A handle let her pull the door to us.
Light streamed inside.
She pulled it open more and we found a jumble of vines, shrubs, trees, and other dense growth. Elizabeth poked her head outside, and after a quick glance around, crawled out. I followed. We stood on the side of a steep hill, almost a cliff, the outer wall of the castle behind us fifty steps. Vines and brambles grew all around, interweaving and growing over the wood door that could barely be seen.
I pulled it closed after me and moved the undergrowth back in place to hide it. Elizabeth had spiderwebs in her hair, on her shoulders, and most everywhere else. I couldn’t see myself but could feel them. I’d feel them for days to come, even if I managed to find a bath.
“Where are we?” she asked.
Down the slope, were the buildings of the city. Beyond was the bay, narrower than the mouth. The sun was above. I said, “I think that is south.”
“So, we go to our right,” she interrupted instantly.
I went back to the door and listened. Nothing. After pulling it closed again, we found a small animal track and followed it. We kept the wall of the castle on our right as we moved. Before too long, we came to a road.
