The Well of Many Worlds

by Luke Metcalf

  Mitchell fought like a man possessed, slashing, kicking, punching with superhuman speed, focus and acrobatic precision, but battling all of them at once was too much even for him.

  “I don’t want to be that psycho chick who says ‘If I can’t have him no one will,’” the Comtesse LeDuijou announced. “But, if I can’t have you, no one will!”

  Her sword flashed with bursts of electricity as she attacked Mitchell. Mitchell felt every bite of every blade from each of their weapons. He slashed, spun, kicked, flipped, dodged, dove, rolled and stabbed with such mad ferocity that the spraying blood became a thick mist in the air. Mephris caught him with a well-placed thrust, plunging his blade through Mitchell’s side, while another slashed him across the back. Mitchell howled in pain and barely dodged a sweeping strike from the Comtesse LeDuijou that would have taken his head clean off.

  Baelaar rushed past him and seized the Well with his good arm as his raven landed on his shoulder. He was about to charge into the ocean through a hole in the wreck and start the long journey to the surface, when he looked up and paused, astonished at what he saw. Following his gaze, the vampires all looked up to see a globe of bright, silvery-blue light descending upon them, as though the moon had fallen from the sky into the depths of the ocean. As the light drew closer, they saw a vampire with a girl on his back, who carried some sort of glowing, grinning creature on her shoulder, descending from above.

  “Crush them unmerciful!” cried Mercurios with delight, shaking his little fist in the air.

  “Vaza bel thlemin,” Emily shouted and a bolt of lightning leaped from her wand, striking the astonished Comtesse LeDuijou square in the chest and sending her hurtling into the dark water that surrounded them. “Vaza bel thlemin,” she cried again and another bolt blasted into Baelaar. The raven exploded in a cloud of feathers as Baelaar dropped the Well and was hurled to one side, smashing back through the rotten timbers of the ship. As soon as Sylvain landed on the ocean floor, Emily jumped off his back. She looked around for her mother and Mr. Denman but they had disappeared.

  “You!” Baelaar spluttered, recognizing Sylvain, the young man he had turned into a vampire all those years ago. “I turned you into a debauched maniac.”

  “And I thank you for it.” Sylvain gave a roguish grin.

  With that Sylvain attacked Mephris and two other vampires. Mitchell seized the opportunity to renew his attack, slashing one vampire across his chest and then parrying an attack from another, just as another lightning bolt leaped from Emily’s wand. It struck the vampire full in the face, electrocuting him. His body went into hideous, jerking spasms, and smoke rose from it. A clap of thunder shook the ocean around them. Great bursts of electricity shot out in every direction from the Well and beside it a huge black gate opened up. Out of it emerged a beast unlike anything any of them had ever seen. Its body was that of an enormous green turtle, twice the size of an elephant, with the head of a dragon and a great fin that ran down the back of its long, thick neck. Its teeth were the size of butcher knives.

  The monster crashed into the middle of the battle, roaring in rage and confusion, sending up a great spray of wet sand and splintering numerous beams as it thrashed. Everyone leaped, dived or rolled out of the way except Mephris. He had been so intensely focused on Sylvain that he was the last to see the creature that had appeared behind him. He spun around just in time to see the monster’s jaws gaping wide. He let out a brief, piercing shriek before the teeth closed around him, tearing him in half.

  Tom grabbed Emily, snarling like a deranged animal, “You’re mine!” Just as the creature’s tail swung around and knocked them both flying into the Well. Tom’s scream abruptly ended as he disappeared into the magical mist. Emily managed to catch hold of the rim of the Well. As she struggled not to get sucked in she felt as though her body was being pulled in two. Mercurios tugged frantically at her arm.

  “Mitchell!” she screamed.

  “Just let go,” Mercurios shouted. “We will go through the Well to Magella. Just let go!”

  “No! Stop it!” she screamed. “Not without Mitchell!”

  Distracted by the horror of seeing Tom vanish into another world and by the effort of trying to pull herself out of the Well, she didn’t notice the dragon turtle had now turned its attention to her. The beast opened its jaws and lunged. Mitchell hewed off the head of the last remaining vampire and sprang onto the back of the monster’s shell. The great beast lunged and thrashed, its long neck striking like a snake. Emily screamed and desperately tried to pull herself out of the Well as Mitchell, with three swift, perfectly placed strikes, beheaded the beast. He leaped off its back as the creature’s head writhed on the ocean floor, kicking up a sand storm, its gargantuan body collapsing onto Baelaar as he struggled to reach the Well.

  Trapped beneath tons of dead flesh and shell, with only his head and shoulders sticking out, Baelaar was unable to free himself before Mitchell pounced upon him. At long last, he had his archenemy within his clutches. Mitchell’s eyes burned with vengeful fury as he raised his sword for the kill.

  To her horror, Emily saw that her whole body was beginning to turn into the magical mist. She was caught halfway between two worlds and was beginning to transform into pure energy. She was disintegrating and the pain was excruciating. She screamed in agony.

  “I’m dying, Mitchell, help!”

  Mitchell had a split second to choose between fulfilling the dream of revenge he had pursued for so long and saving Emily’s life. He flew across the space between them and began to drag her out of the Well. Baelaar managed to struggle out from under the carcass of the dragon turtle. He rushed up behind Mitchell and kicked him in the back, sending him over the edge, into the Well. Like Emily he managed to grab onto the rim to stop himself from plunging all the way in. He too began to disintegrate into a mist of pure energy. He and Emily were merging into one, engulfed by the mist, becoming one being of pure energy that blazed forth, lighting up the ocean around them for hundreds of meters.

  Baelaar positioned himself to push them further into the Well when the light and power generated by them merging into one, blinded him and his flesh burst into flame. Baelaar rushed, shrieking into the vast, dark ocean as Sylvain dove behind the dragon turtle carcass to avoid meeting the same fate.

  Emily’s whole being was engulfed by the brightest light that she had ever imagined and she knew that her physical form had transformed into pure energy. She could feel Mitchell’s presence and could feel the two of them merging into one. An incredible cascade of memories flashed through her mind and what she saw shook her being to its core.

  Twenty-Seven

  South of England May 1563

  The blinding flash of light disappeared, then, as if waking from a dream, Emily found herself in another time and place. She was aware that it was late spring in England in the year 1563. Mitchell was still human. He had gone hunting, riding out from his family’s castle far into the countryside. A violent thunderstorm had passed through a few hours before but now everything was calm as evening fell and the full moon rose in the east. Mitchell inhaled the fresh, fragrant scent of the forest and meadows, filled with joy. He tethered his horse to a tree and crept up a ridge beside a cliff face, stalking a magnificent stag.

  At the top of the ridge Mitchell crouched down and silently stretched his bow. He had a perfect shot as the beast stood silhouetted in front of the full moon. Just as he was ready to let the arrow fly, something spooked the animal and it bounded away into the forest. A moment later Mitchell saw what looked like a woman appear where the stag had been only a moment before, silhouetted in front of the moon. He was convinced he must be experiencing a mystical vision. He was far from any town or village, so to see a woman in an elegant dress wandering out here in the wilderness at night was beyond bizarre.

  “What is this?” he hissed as he lowered his bow. “Is it a ghost?” A shiver went down Mitchell’s spine as he stared transfixed. The apparition moved toward him and he slowly stood
up as if pulled by some outside force.

  When the figure collapsed on the ground he rushed forward to see who or what it was.

  He knelt down and turned the woman over to see a beautiful girl about the same age as him. Her hair and dress were wet and disheveled. She had a fresh cut above her temple, surrounded by a purple bruise, and her hands were covered with dirt. For a moment Mitchell could only stare at the girl in wonder.

  “Has some sorcery transformed the stag into a lady?” he wondered aloud. “After all Artemis turned Acteon into a stag for seeing her virginal modesty and ravishing beauty. But now the stag has transformed into Artemis, for this is no mere lady, this is a goddess whose lustrous beauty shines so radiantly that all the stars in their burning spheres are sick with envy and weep silver tears.” He glanced up at the sky then back at Marigold. “But the night grows dark, come, I will protect her and take care of her until I find out the name of this bright angel and from which of the heavens she fell to earth to grace this crude, rough, shoddy world with her glorious perfection.”

  He picked her up in his arms and carried her to his horse, Sunalus.

  Watching this scene unfold, Emily realized that the girl was Marigold and she now found herself entering into Marigold’s memories of the event. The night before she had fallen into an argument with her father and had woken up early that morning still angry with him. She decided to go for a ride to clear her head. It was a beautiful day so she continued riding for hours, getting further and further away from the familiar lands that surrounded her father’s castle. In the early afternoon a thunderstorm had blown up out of nowhere. Marigold was just about to turn back when a lightning bolt struck a tree only a few yards away. Her terrified horse reared and threw her to the ground as a burning branch cracked away from the tree above and crashed down on top of them. Marigold hit her head on a rock, rendering her unconscious.

  Some time later she had awoken, dazed and soaking wet from the rain. Her horse was nowhere to be seen. She began the long walk home, but grew disoriented. Scared, lost, wet and cold, she wandered in circles for hours until, exhausted and still delirious from the blow to her head, she finally collapsed. When she opened her eyes she found herself staring up into the face of a handsome young man.

  “Are you an angel?” she asked in a weak voice.

  The young man smiled. “You are safe now.”

  She smiled and nodded, slipping back into unconsciousness and holding tightly onto him.

  Emily’s memories shifted. It was five months later, October 31st 1563, All Hallows Eve. Mitchell and Marigold were standing on the top of a hill. The full moon was rising in the east, bathing the beautiful countryside with a magical, silvery-blue light. The hill overlooked a small cemetery and areas of forest and rolling hills that lay around Mitchell’s father’s castle. Marigold had made a circle of freshly picked wildflowers and they stood within the circle facing each other, staring into each other’s eyes.

  “It is said that a blood oath sworn under a full moon on All Hallows Eve, when the barriers between this world and the world of magic are at their weakest, will last forever,” said Marigold, then laughed.

  Mitchell smiled and said nothing.

  “We will bind our souls together forever,” Marigold whispered.

  “I would love nothing more,” Mitchell murmured.

  “Then here underneath the twilight skies in the glow of a wild cat’s eyes, I invoke Queen Mab,” laughed Marigold. “And all the faerie kings and queens as they sit on their foxglove thrones, and all other mystical powers, to witness and bless our blood oath and our love and intertwine our two souls and destinies into one thread forever until the end of all things. Beneath the inconstant, ever changing moon, our love will remain changeless and will burn as an eternal flame. We invoke the powers of magic to bind our souls together for eternity. Hear our oath!”

  She drew out a dagger and cut a gash in her right palm down her lifeline. She winced in pain and then took Mitchell’s left hand and did the same along his lifeline. Then she held up her hand, her bleeding palm facing him. He did the same and their fingers entwined and their palms met and their blood mingled and Marigold wrapped their hands together with a thick red silk thread.

  “I hereby join my spirit with yours forever,” she said. “In this life and in all lives to come until the end of time.”

  “I hereby join my spirit with yours forever,” said Mitchell. “In this life and in all lives to come until the end of time.”

  A breeze rustled the leaves of the trees and bent the blades of grass as the two lovers kissed.

  Emily’s memories shifted again. It was eight months later, now mid-summer of the next year. Mitchell was standing in the great hall of his family’s castle in the midst of an argument with his father, the duke.

  “I make no apologies for what I have done.”

  “But you will be hanged!” the duke shouted, slamming his fist upon the table and rising to his feet.

  “I know!” Mitchell shouted back.

  “What good will that do anyone? Will you throw your life away?”

  “I will fight and slay every last one of his men if I must! If I have to die to save our people, our country, then so be it. Throughout the lands the revolt is brewing and I will lead them.”

  “Are you foolish enough to think that I was not aware, ever since the arrival of this new advisor, that the Lord Protector is a changed man? Are you fool enough to think that I have not spent weeks now planning the most effective way to remove this advisor without raising the suspicions of the Lord Protector and risking a civil war?”

  Mitchell hesitated. What new advisor? Had he sabotaged his father’s plans? His heart plummeted.

  “You are impetuous!” thundered the duke. “Impulsive! Reckless! You think you grasp the scope of all that occurs here, yet you understand nothing! And because of that, all my carefully laid planning is for naught! Politics is a game of chess, son, a game of patience and strategy, and you… you’ve come along and kicked over all the pieces like a blundering fool!”

  “Surely you can understand,” Mitchell responded, less angry now, “that I cannot stand by for a single day more, seeing starved corpses in the fields, families being destroyed all across our country! He is literally taxing our people to death. How many more families must be destroyed before you take action? The people are against him. The time has come. He will be overthrown! Father please” – he approached the duke – “if I have made a shambles of your plans with my hot-headedness then I will earn back my honor with my sword or with my blood.”

  The duke stared at him for a moment then smiled and waved his hand. “Ah, it would have come to this sooner or later.” He stared out of the window. “I had simply hoped for more time…” He looked back at Mitchell and placed a hand upon his shoulder and smiled. “Your courage and your love for your people is repayment enough, my son.”

  One of their servants entered the room and bowed. “Sire, Marigold Bonneville…”

  “Marigold!” exclaimed Mitchell, swinging around.

  “The daughter of the Lord Protector?” the duke growled.

  “Show her in,” Mitchell ordered before his father could turn her away. The woman hurried from the room.

  The duke peered at his son. “I see there is more to this than I thought.”

  Marigold entered the room with the servant and curtsied gracefully. She appeared to be distressed.

  “Marigold, welcome,” said the duke, calming his irritation with difficulty. “What brings you here?”

  Her gaze shifted between father and son, then settled on the duke. “Sir,” she began nervously, “I have grave tidings. My father is sending a large armed force here. You and both of your sons are to be tried and hanged for high treason and the rest of your family banished. He believes that you have been plotting against him. He is sending all his men in the hope this will provoke the rebellion he knows is coming, that all the traitors will rally around you when he strikes. That way he be
lieves it will be easy for him to crush the revolution before it has been properly organized.”

  “This is outrageous!” roared the duke. “How dare he threaten me? And why would you betray your father to come here and warn us of this atrocity, young miss?”

  “Please,” she implored him, “you have only a few hours.”

  “MY ARMOR!” shouted the duke as he strode out of the room. A few moments later trumpets blared outside and a knot hardened in Mitchell’s stomach. Marigold rushed forward and embraced him.

  “Why on earth did you have to challenge my father like that, in front of everyone?”

  “I could not stand for it any longer. He is destroying our country, our people, everything we love! I had to do something!”

  “Someday you will be a strong leader, Mitchell. Your people love you. I can easily imagine you becoming king one day.” She took his hands in hers. “Please do not hate him. You do not know him like I do. He is not himself lately. Dark changes have come over him ever since his new advisor arrived. Everything seems…” She struggled for a moment to find the words. “Like a waking nightmare.”

  “Who is this man everyone is blaming?”

  “He arrived one evening, just after sunset. His name is Baelaar – that is all that I know. When I look into his eyes, I feel despair pierce the core of my being.” She shivered at the recollection. “It is as if the world I knew has disappeared, and I am alone in a vast, dark wilderness. It is as if my father has become a different person. He scarcely remembers me anymore.”