Mantle: The Return of the Sha (23 page)

Zander took the book from the old man and stepped back.

“Very well,” he said. “Thank you for your service, oracle,” he said as he left. He wanted out of the cramped space of the cottage, but mostly he wanted fresh air. It was ten minutes’ ride before he would find it.

****

When King Zander awoke from a restless sleep that he had forced, the sun was not yet up. He dressed and left for Lizabet’s room, the book from the oracle in hand. They would be riding today to make their rescue and possibly directly into war without a moment’s notice, if they failed in their attempt. As he walked to Lizabet’s apartment, he thought about what the oracle had said.

A blue witch…a sha.

He suddenly felt himself feeling nervous to talk with her, as if she had changed somehow. She
hadn’t
changed, though. She was still Lizabet Abbot of Terra, sister by law to the king, but he felt as if something had shifted. Something about the knowledge of her and what she was had forced him to think of her differently.

When he reached her room, he was glad to see that there were guards standing on either side of her door. He knocked and was greeted by a maid talking in a low whisper. He instructed her to wake Lizabet and stepped into the sitting room of the apartment.

When Lizabet emerged from her room, she was dressed in a robe and looked as if she had not slept.

“Majesty, what brings you here?” she asked. “Is there word of my sister?”

“No, I’m afraid not, but we ride at sunrise to save her and return her here to Obengaard. And I swear to you that I will bring her back.”

Lizabet looked into his eyes closely. She saw nothing but determination and knew that he would do everything in his power to rescue her. But she also felt something else—a feeling that she would be caught up in the conflict herself, and she thought that she saw that same feeling in the king’s eyes as well.

“I came to talk to you of another matter,” Zander said, still clutching the book.

“Have you decided to allow me to go with you?” Lizabet asked with sternness in her tone.

“No I haven’t, Lizabet. You must understand that I cannot allow it. Your sister would never again look upon me with love in her eyes. She would carry her anger to the grave and you know it,” Zander said, with frustration, but also with some sadness.

“Then what is it?”

“I’ve come on behalf of the oracle,” he said, and Lizabet’s eye’s brightened a bit. “He wishes you to read this.”

Lizabet took the book and examined it. There was no title and no indication of its subject, so she looked at Zander and asked,

“What is this about? Why would the oracle have me read this?”

This had been the moment that Zander had been anxious about. He had debated several different ways to say it, but arrived at the simplest.

“Lizabet, he believes you to be born a blue witch…a sha—from a long line, he says.”

Her mouth fell and she let out a slight gasp.

“Know that these things uttered by the oracle are not set. He could be mistaken, although he seems certain. Holding truth, I’ve never heard mention of a blue witch, or a sha. The book may explain it.”

“I have,” Lizabet whispered. “I’ve heard of such things.”

Zander’s expression turned to one of surprise.

“My aunt spoke of them often before she passed,” Lizabet said. “She said that there hadn’t been a
true
sha in Mantle for generations. She also said that she never cared much for the term
blue witch
, and I never understood why it bothered her so—until now. It bothered her because the sha were of her own line. It had passed over her, as it had so many other women in her family, but the sha were of her line, nevertheless.

“What the oracle says is true, Majesty—I know it as sure as we are standing in this room, and I believe that you know it as well. I think you knew it the moment our eyes met and your smile returned. You may not have known then, what it was, but you knew something all the same.”

Zander thought about this for a moment before realizing that what she was saying was entirely true. He
had
felt something about her when they had met. It had been a wonderful feeling unlike any other, and he thought now that he should not be so surprised at the oracle’s diagnosis. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he saw the signs—not only the return of his smile, but also the door, and her friendships—a chicken and a Loper, among others. Yes, it had all been laid out before him.

One other thing that had not struck him until that moment was that any future heir to the throne of Forris would also carry the line of the sha. This realization brought him a flicker of joy to an otherwise grim couple of days.

“Well then, Fathers help you to understand your strengths, Lizabet,” Zander said. “Read the book and tell Steed of any change in your ability, if such things would be revealed to you, that is. He will send word to me and I will decide then if you should be sent to join us. I’ll offer that promise, at least…a consideration.”

“Thank you, Majesty, that is all I ask. I will read the book,” she said.

And she would read the book
eventually
, but she would not wait for his consideration. She had other plans in mind.

Journey

THE DEPARTURE OF King Zander with fifty thousand men was not to go unnoticed. The farewell send-off was simple but well attended. People lined the streets on both sides along the route that the army would take to the main gates of the city, and then lined the road that led toward the east.

They had no tradition for sending their men into battle—there had never been war in their lifetimes. So they threw flowers onto the streets for the men to walk over. Some spectators handed flowers to the men themselves, but what one would see if they took a wider look would be women and children standing silently in groups. They would see the elders standing quiet, seeming to wonder how they had made it through so much of life in peace for it to all come to this.

****

King Zander rode with his men east toward the Outlands and where they expected to join the scouts who had been dispatched to track Balki and the queen. It was on the second day of their travels that Zander had received troubling news from the scouts.

They had reported that Balki and his hostage had been lost—
possibly
. The Eagles had lost them when they had eyed duplicate visions of Balki separating into different directions. It now appeared that nearly a dozen
versions
of Balki and Bella had been spotted on various routes leading toward the Outlands—and Skite.

The scouts had confirmed the Eagle’s report when they began to see identical tracks leading in different directions. They had broken into groups and begun following the versions they suspected, as well as they could, but they had no way of knowing if they were following an illusion or not. In one case, the tracks led them in a small circle, and another time they had seen what they thought to be Balki and Bella when suddenly the figures disappeared momentarily in a shimmer that looked like rippling water. They had realized then that they had been following a decoy. Now they sat waiting, realizing that they were accomplishing nothing.

King Zander was furious. He began yelling at his captains and generals with equal harshness. It wasn’t their fault, he knew—but they were present and the scouts were not. And even if the scouts would have been there, it still would not have been
their
fault. He knew that as well. This was the inflock’s doing and now he must decide how to proceed. He would not entertain the thought of dividing his armies. That may be precisely what the inflock was hoping for. He would meet the scouts at the place where the tracks divided and decide then how best to proceed. For now, he could only hope to all the Fathers that Bella would be safe.

****

Bella awoke to darkness and musty heat. A burlap bag had been pulled over her head and a drawstring held it around her neck. When she opened her eyes, she could see tiny rays of light pouring in through the pinholes in the burlap.

It was both scorching hot and dusty in the bag. Muddy sweat from her brow was running into the corners of her eyes, so she kept her eyes closed tight. She would eventually drift away—back into a half-sleep, only to awaken again a few hours later.

She knew she was on a horse, and she thought she had been strung over the horse for a very long time. But she had no conception of time. She had drifted in and out of consciousness so many times that her memories seemed blurry to her. She
did
know that she had been taken by Balki Touro—that much she was sure of. But as to his motive, she could not guess. He had taken something from below Zander’s throne, but surely it had nothing directly to do with her. After all, she had not lived at Bannister Castle long and had been queen for even less time, so what could it possibly have to do with her?

When they had finally come to a stop, Balki brought her down from the horse and flung her over his shoulder. She would think on this later and be surprised that Balki would be able to lift her so easily.

He sat her against a tree and removed the bag from her head. The sun was bright and Bella could not open her eyes for a few moments. When she finally did, she saw Balki Touro standing before her, looking down on her with a sinister grin.

Bella immediately saw that he had grown ill or somehow been possessed. In fact, she thought that, if she had not known it was him, she would not have recognized him. He had aged terribly in such a short period of time and she tried to think back to their encounter in the Throne Room.
Had he looked this old?
No, she was sure he hadn’t.

“Welcome…
Majesty
,” he said with some sarcasm.

Bella was stunned by the voice, which was very deep and had a kind of gurgling sound to it. In the oddest way, she thought that whoever or
whatever
was commanding the voice was unfamiliar with the bodily tools for making it. It was almost as a child who knows words but is still
finding
them in their own throat. Whatever was speaking, she didn’t believe for a minute that it belonged to Balki Touro.

“Who are you?” she asked, staring Balki in the eyes.

“You know very well who I am,” he replied. “Or does your husband not speak to you of such things?”

“I know that a scheme such as this could not have been imagined by
Balki Touro
. He is but a trivial boy!” she said, forcing herself to laugh. She had no intention of being a willing and bumbling idiot, no matter her safety.

Her response had angered him, and this time the answer that Bella heard, as she was being slapped across the face, was that of Balki Touro.

“You stupid girl,” Balki yelled at her. She was bleeding from the mouth now, but she did her best to hold a slight grin, mocking him. When he pulled his arm back as if to strike her again, Bella could clearly see a change in him. She knew that the
Other
had regained control, and she now wondered how much conflict she could cause between the two of them.

“Majesty, forgive the manners of my host. He is quick-tempered,” he said, the voice again deeper and gurgling. “I, on the other hand, am quite practical in matters such as this. However, know that if
my
temper should be lost, it will mean a great deal more for you than a hand on your cheek.”

The message were delivered calmly and with the proper words to convey respect for her. But it was the sinister tone and deep gurgling of the voice that made Bella’s skin crawl. It occurred to her that she would rather the words be crude if they were to be mixed with such evil undertones.

She stared him in the eyes and when their gaze was locked, he grinned mechanically as if for the first time. A shiver ran up her spine and she realized that it would not be long before her purpose in this would be revealed. Whatever it was, she already knew that the situation would be impossible.

****

There are two main roads leading out of Obengaard to the east: the Hobble Road and the Wyed Path. The Wyed Path, being narrow and in disrepair at some spots, was considered the shorter route to the Outlands and was the typical way of transport to the guard posts situated along the Outland border. However, the Hobble, being wide and in generally fair condition, was the route that would be followed if you had fifty thousand men behind you.

The Hobble, which had only recently been partially traveled by King Ekkill and his party, was the road that King Zander now traveled with his men to rescue Queen Bella, and quite likely into battle with the Skites. The road would not lead them directly to the Outland Post, but it would carry them most of the way.

Lizabet Abbot had other plans—a third way.

She had devised a plan to make the journey herself to save Bella, and made her pitch to Dorian for help in leaving the castle and obtaining a horse. He had tried to convince her not to go and, when that had failed and he was sure that she would not be swayed, he had insisted on going with her.

She had protested this immediately, but only because she felt obligated to. Deep down, she really
did
want him to go with her to find Bella, but she knew that she would be putting him in grave danger, so she had resisted him. But Dorian’s insistence whittled her down and she had finally relented, agreeing to let him help her. She immediately felt waves of guilt for what she was about to put him through.

Once they had decided that they would both be going on the journey to save Bella, they realized that they would need additional help getting out of the city unnoticed. There were more guards throughout the castle now, and the stables were being watched and inventoried on a constant basis. The announcement of the impending war had changed everything.

They went to the abandoned part of the castle to talk over their plans, as they often did when they felt the need for privacy, away from the bustle of the castle. They went, as usual, to the room across from that which held the secret door.

Although the room was covered in dust from top to bottom, there were several pieces of furniture hidden under gray tarps, and they removed the cover from a single chair and a long bench that was like those used during Bella and Zander’s marriage ceremony in the Throne Room.

There they sat, bathed in the illumination of the light crystal, examining every aspect of their planned trip to the Outlands. They thought it would be easy enough to obtain horses, but they were hard-pressed for a plan to ride out of the city unnoticed. There were guards stationed along the wall of the city, and the guards would have no trouble spotting them as they rode. If they were found out, it was likely that they would be apprehended and brought back to the castle to be kept under lock. That would make it impossible to make a successful second attempt.

“We need a diversion,” Dorian finally said. “Something which will take their attention away from the road.”

“Yes, but what can pull so many of them away at once?” Lizabet asked.

Dorian sat quietly for a moment, staring at the stone floor. Lizabet was about to add something when Dorian finally spoke. “I believe that there may be an unfortunate accident at the Emm’s powder shed,” he said with a smile forming on his face.

Lizabet, however, had a look of shock. “I do not want to burn the city!”

“No, no,” Dorian said. “I see that you don’t get away from the castle much.”

His smile was gaining momentum.

“The Emm’s powder shed is along the south wall, far from anything of any importance. There won’t be any damage—except for the shed, of course.”

“I don’t know—” Lizabet began.

“If anything, the good people of Obengaard will witness an unscheduled display of fireworks,” he interrupted. “Who isn’t entertained by fireworks?” He was nearly laughing now, despite the situation.

“Then we’re still presented with a problem,” Lizabet said, still skeptical of the plan. “We cannot be in two places at once. Who will light the shed?”

Before Dorian could answer that he did not know, there was a sound of shuffling feet coming from just outside the room. They didn’t know it, but it was the same sound that Bella had heard just before she had been found by Balki in the Throne Room.

Lizabet and Dorian both heard it and looked at each other, seeming to communicate with their eyes. Lizabet put her finger up to her mouth to indicate that Dorian should not speak, and then grabbed his hand. They both stood and quietly walked into the shadow of a covered piece of tall-standing furniture.

They stood quietly, not sure what to do next, when suddenly there was flickering yellow and orange light entering the room. It was clear that someone was entering from the corridor outside with a torch. When Dorian snuck a glance around the corner of their hiding place, he let out a deep sigh of relief. It was only Pike.

“You frightened us, Pike,” Dorian said, stepping out from the shadow with Lizabet following behind.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Dorian, truly I am,” Pike said, his head held down.

He was still feeling guilt over the queen’s kidnapping and had been keeping his distance since it had happened. Lizabet had forgiven him for not telling her immediately of her sister’s attack, but he felt terrible about the lie nonetheless.

“How long have you been listening?” Lizabet asked with a tone of frustration.

“I was standing outside, Miss Lizabet,” he said, not really answering the question.

“Yes, I can see that, Pike,” Lizabet said. “What did you hear?”

Pike only stood silent for a moment, looking toward his feet.

“Pike, answer her,” Dorian said in a tone that was almost scolding.

“I can light the shed. I can help you,” Pike said, ignoring the question.

Lizabet’s eyes widened. “You?” she said. “Pike, thank you, but I would not put you in such danger.”

“Miss Lizabet,” Pike said sorrowfully. “I am to blame for the queen’s attack. You know it is true. Let me help.”

“Pike, I’ve told you before, you are not to blame for Bella’s attack. Please believe that,” she said.

“He could help us, you know,” Dorian said, looking at her. “The plan is far from perfect, but it would work, I think.”