Severed Empire: Wizard's War (20 page)

“Lad?” Basin said.

Blodwyn said, “We can’t risk you using magic. Not now. Not when we’re this close to their realm. We don’t want them knowing we’re on the way. We’ll lose the element of surprise. We have no idea what is waiting for us. We need you to store up as much energy as possible, Mykal. We need you strong, and ready.”

He didn’t want the Mountain King’s witch picking up on his use of magic. He didn’t like the idea of her tapping into his power. Now that he knew it had been done, he took the invasion personally. Still, Mykal almost ignored the plea, and closed his eyes. He had to wrestle thoughts inside his brain, otherwise he was going to unleash magic and silence the serpents. “And if they capsize us?”

“They’re not going to tip
this
ship, and the wood is strong. We’re safe,” Refler said. “We travel these waters for a living. Sometimes the creatures beneath the surface stir. They’re nocturnal, and hunt for meals at night.”

They hunted for me during the day
, Mykal thought.

Again, something pummeled into the side of the boat. Sea water splashed over them. It was cold, and salty.

“We need to keep rowing,” Refler said. “We’ll be there before long.”

The serpents swam past the ship, their dorsal fins visible even in the darkness. It was almost like they were slightly illuminated during the night. It was a taunt; each pass they made. Several times they banged against the hull. Knowing he could chase them away only made Mykal angrier. He could put a stop to their mocking, but instead was being forced to let it continue. It was maddening.

As suddenly as the frenzy had begun, it ended.

“See,” Anna said. “We’re passed through it.”

It sounded too good to be true, he thought. It seemed like at any moment the terror would begin again, but it didn’t. Minute after minute nothing else happened. The only thing heard was the rhythmic pattern to their rowing, and after another moment or two, that sound of the blade dipping into the water, and thrusting the boat forward, became almost hypnotic, mesmerizing.

Mykal couldn’t help imagining serpents leaping from the water onto the boat. The oar was a useless weapon since the shaft was fed through a hole in the side of the boat, and all of their weapons were in the center, secured in place alongside the mast.

Only an attack from the serpents never came. They were done teasing them, apparently.

Refler said, “We’ve made it.”

Mykal turned around and saw a wall of black. He saw nothing. “Are you sure?”

“Listen,” Refler said. “The sea sounds different. There is a small beach ahead. Ever heard of the Flaming Crystal Valley? That’s where we’ll dock, where I’ll wait for your return. It is just north of the fjord, and Rames Mountain.”

“Which is where
we’re
headed,” Basin said.

Chapter 17

King Hermon Cordillera refrained from smiling. Anticipation raced through his mind. He felt his heart beat wild behind his chest. The time was finally at hand. He had dreamed for decades about becoming a powerful sorcerer. Soon those dreams would become his reality. He rolled his fingers into fists in an attempt to contain his excitement. It was difficult holding back his emotions. There was regret in there, as well. There always would be. Had he become a wizard long ago his brother might still be alive. He missed Jeremiah, and while his kin haunted his sleep, it was better than never seeing him again.

He wished Jeremiah could be here to witness the events about to unfold. He knew his older brother would be both impressed and proud of his accomplishments.

In a way, Hermon wished his father, King Elroy, was still around, if only so he could prove him wrong. It might be for the best. He’d end up just killing his father again. The man had been heartless, and evil.

It would be a long night. He walked down the halls toward his children’s bedchamber. They each had their own room. After the passing of their mother that morning, Raaheel and Sarah asked if they could share a bed. While he didn’t think it a wise idea, and didn’t want to coddle their prolonged mourning, Cordillera reluctantly agreed. He wasn’t going to let them make a habit of it. It was imperative they suck it up, hold their heads high, and move forward. His subjects would talk, otherwise. He wanted their pledge of loyalty, and expected full support. Weakness from his children hindered that appearance, real or imagined.

The large door was closed. He didn’t knock before entering. He was king. The castle was his. Everything inside was his. “Why aren’t you already in bed?”

His voice startled them. They stood by the window, curtains drawn, hugging each other, and crying.

“I have very important things to tend to this evening. In bed, now,” he said.

His daughters ran and jumped onto the bed. Raaheel pulled back the blankets. The two slid feet and legs under bedsheets. They lay down close to one another, and shivered; their lower lips quivered. The oil lamp was lit, the small red flame inside cast minimal light, and active moving shadows.

“I miss mother,” Sarah said, and sniffled.

Cordillera sighed, and closed his eyes so his daughters wouldn’t see them roll. “It is unfortunate what happened to your mother.”

“I don’t want the spiders getting into our room!” Raaheel sat up. She held the bed sheet under her chin. Her eyes were wide open, and scanning every corner of the room.

Sarah shot up, and sat beside her sister. Raaheel wrapped an arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “Are there spiders in here? Are there more inside the castle? I think they might already be in here, they’re already in our bedchamber!” Sarah pulled blankets up under her chin as her eyes wildly scanned the room.

Cordillera pressed thumbs against his temples. “No, child of mine, there are no spiders in the bedchamber, or anywhere else in the castle, for that matter. The spiders are gone. We’ve searched the everywhere,
everywhere
. There are no more. You have nothing left to fear from those pesky bugs,” the king said. While he was impressed with Ida’s creativity, he wondered if she could have chosen a different way in which to carry out the plan. Effective, however, the spiders had handled the execution perfectly. He’d not heard a single murmur of a suspicious death or foul play.

“But how can you know for certain? Spiders hide very well. They live in the walls. There could be a nest of them somewhere, and we won’t even know until they next attack,” Raaheel said.

This was the point where he was certain expectations as a father came into play. He just was never good at them. He blamed his wife for that. The fat cow had turned his children against him. Soon he’d have a son, and then the daughters cowering in front of him would become inconsequential. Until then, parental responsibilities were his, he supposed.

Cordillera sat down on the side of the bed. He poised hand over the covered leg of his daughter, and patted the air once, twice, before his palm actually touched the sheet, and her knee beneath it. “There, there,” he said. “I know for certain the spiders are gone. Those involved with the extermination have assured me there is not a single arachnid inside the castle, poisonous or otherwise. They wouldn’t mislead their king, now would they?”

The princesses shook their heads.

“That’s right. And do you know why they wouldn’t dare lie to their king?” Cordillera said.

“Because you’d have their heads chopped off,” Raaheel said.

King Hermon Cordillera smiled. It had been some time since he’d felt any sense of pride toward his children. The warmth that now filled his heart was an unexpectedly pleasant sensation. “Lay down now,” he said.

They did, and he covered them with both the bed sheet and the blanket.

“It’s time for the two of you to get some sleep,” he said. Somehow he’d managed to conjure up a calm and cool tone of voice. He impressed himself. Was it possible some of the emotions running through him were genuine?

It didn’t seem likely, but then, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d ever had one-on-one time with his girls. They’d always been with their mother.

“Father?” Sarah said.

Cordillera stood up. “Yes?”

“Will you sit with us, just until we fall asleep?” Sarah said.

“Please, father, would you?” Raaheel said.

“I have so many things to do,” he said.

“But father, we don’t want to be alone. Not tonight,” Raaheel said. “As soon as we’re asleep, you can leave.”

“Are you really telling your king what he can do, and when he can do it? Enough of this foolishness!” Cordillera spun the knob on the oil lamp, and the flame went out. He stomped his way out of their bed chamber, slamming the wood door behind him.

He heard his daughters crying, even as he made his way down the hall. Damned rock walls. Everything echoed. Ida waited for him in the dungeon. He had no time for foolishness. No time to spare for it at all!

***

Galatia woke up… under ground.

Only that wasn’t exactly right, or accurate. She couldn’t remember having been asleep. She was standing, too, not lying down. She didn’t wake up down here. She opened her eyes and was down here, under the ground. That still didn’t feel correct, but it was closer to truth. Closer, but not exactly correct.

Large tree roots surrounded her, like texture in walls of dirt. More severed or dangling roots, protruded from dirt above her head. They were everywhere, thick, and intertwining, like petrified anacondas. All around was a maze of tunnels branching off in different directions.

The dirt walls were alive with insects. Spiders and roaches ran here and there. The roaches hissed like cats, and were big like rats. Fat worms wiggled as they burrowed into and out of the dirt. She saw juicy white bugs with hundreds of legs scurry around on the soft ground, and on the soft ceiling above her. Her entire body itched in a way that was impossible to scratch. She pictured insects crawling over her skin. She shook her head; certain bugs fell into her hair.

There was something familiar about the surroundings, though. Something she thought she should know about where she was, and yet she couldn’t figure it out. It was there. Right there, only just out of reach.

She rested a hand on her forehead. It throbbed slightly at the temples. Her eyes ached. Everything around her was just slightly out of focus; was more than a bit blurry. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with her. Her vision was clouded over, as if fog covered her eyeballs, and she’d be able to see more clearly if she could just swipe the fog away.

She couldn’t remember how she got here. Worse, she wasn’t sure where
here
was. Or could she? It was familiar. There was no denying that. She continued looking around, hoping she might see something which would spark her memory, explain why she was here, and how she’d gotten here. So far nothing did the trick.

The answer was there, as if actual words ready to be spoken just inside her mouth, but she couldn’t speak them, and was inexplicably unable to pronounce any of the words. She knew her thoughts were jumbled and confused. None of anything she thought was making sense. It was just her way of working it all out. The only way she’d find answers was to keep searching. This was how she always searched. Thinking, and overthinking.

Her memory was like her vision, she realized; a little blurred, a bit out of focus.

Her sense of smell wasn’t impaired. Above ground it must have rained. The wet worms distinctly smelled like dead fish. The putrid odor was intensified under the trees, and walking through worm homes didn’t help the situation any. The ground was very soft and moist. Her feet left deep impressions in the dirt. She felt the mud squish between her toes, and only then, when she looked down, did she realize she was barefoot. The earth was cold and so damp against her skin. She didn’t like being under the trees. There must be a way out, a way up.

Under the trees
.

That was familiar. It touched off on something inside her mind, triggered a memory.

Mykal
.

Mykal had gone under the trees in the Cicade Forest with Blodwyn.

She spun around. Where were they? Could they still be down here?

“Mykal?” No one answered. Her voice echoed. There was no reason it should echo down under the trees.

Where did the light come from?

“Mykal?”

Still nothing. The boy didn’t respond. She knew she was lost. There had to be a way out. It was almost as if she had been buried inside a giant grave. She would die if she didn’t find what she was looking for.

Why had she thought that?

Was she looking for something?

What had Mykal been looking for? He and Blodwyn had crawled under the trees for a reason. Something had been hidden beneath the ground.

There was something down here for her. Finding it was essential.

The mirror!

She was looking for a small hand mirror.

A wave of memories came upon her. The surge of images filled her mind. She saw the mirror clearly. It was oval-shaped, with a hand-chased beveled floral design, and rope twist border.

It wasn’t her mirror. That wasn’t why she was looking for it. The hand mirror once belonged to Pendora.

Pendora was a wizard.

A wizard in hiding.

She thought of mermaids, but no. That wasn’t right. Mermaids had nothing to do with Pendora.

Her hand touched her chest. More of her was missing. She wore a piece of jewelry. It was gone. She closed her eyes. She saw it in her mind: an amethyst, which had been given to her by the mermaids.

The mermaids.

How did she know the mermaids? They were not a friendly school.

The necklace was a gift from them; had been a gift from them. She had lived with them. They had taken her in. Galatia remembered living under the Isthmian, in a cave. The mermaids protected her, and fed her.

They left piles of dead fish on the seashell shore.

It smelled similar to being under- ground. Dead fish.

She lived with the mermaids because she had been hiding.

She spun around. Her vision cleared some. It was right… there.