A White So Red

by Krystle Jones

  She didn’t say anything at first, letting the silence settle around them while she mulled over what he had just told her. “I’m sorry” didn’t seem adequate for the wrong done to him.

  “Don’t feel sorry.”

  She looked at him sharply. “Are you reading my thoughts?”

  “I don’t have to. Your face says it all. Not that I have that ability, to read thoughts and all.” His voice hardened. “But don’t feel sorry for me. I’ve grown used to it, and I accepted it long ago. There’s nothing to be done for it now. What’s done is done.”

  “I suppose that’s so,” she murmured. “I’ve noticed that you and the other dwarves call each other brethren,” she said, changing the subject, “yet you appear to be different races. I take it you’re not physically related?”

  “‘Brother’ is a term used by humans to label blood relations. For dwarves, it means something a bit different. A pack brother, for instance, is another dwarf in the same pack as you.”

  “So you call yourselves a pack? Like, er, wolves?”

  “In the sense we hunt together, yes. Since most races of dwarves are smaller in stature than our prey, it makes it easier if we hunt in groups. That way we can overrun the enemy.”

  “Interesting,” she said, nodding. “Why is Wormwart so grumpy?”

  Midnight laughed. It sounded like crystals. “That’s all a ruse. He’s really very kind and caring.”

  “Sorry, but I fail to see that.”

  “Is it so hard to believe? I think he likes you, which is high praise considering his views on Charmed ones.”

  “How so?”

  Midnight hesitated, as if weighing whether or not to tell her.

  “I swear, I won’t tell anyone.”

  Midnight glanced back at the door. The hall was still.

  She looked back at the door herself, slightly amused. “Besides, am I not the only one who can hear you?”

  “Now that I’ve revealed my ability to you, yes. Though others who already know how I speak can easily listen in, same as if I were speaking aloud.”

  “Oh,” she said, nodding.

  Midnight leaned closer, his voice growing quieter in her head. “Wormwart’s entire village was slaughtered by rogue Charmed ones. Everyone he loved died.”

  That felt like a slap in the face. “Rogues?” she asked, blinking. “But I don’t understand. Where did they come from? Why would they do that?”

  “Dark Magic twists the mind and makes one forget about his morals and sense of right and wrong. In essence, the power drives him mad.”

  “How did Wormwart survive?”

  “He ran away. He tried to save his younger brother, but the rogues got to him before Wormwart could save him. They killed his only surviving family right before his very eyes.”

  “Poor Wormwart,” she said.

  “Yes,” Midnight murmured, his ears drooping sadly. They perked up and he glanced at her, excited. “Shall we read a story?”

  “Sure,” she said, grateful for a change from the depressing topic.

  The book looked hefty, with a worn brown leather cover. The title was huge; it took up nearly the entire front cover in big, fancy letters, all of which were written in gold paint that was so cracked and faded she could hardly read it.

  Midnight set the book between them and opened it. Dust particles floated up from the yellow pages, tickling her nose.

  “Dwarves are fond of dust, I see,” she said, wafting it away, on the verge of sneezing.

  “You have no idea how fond.”

  Curious, she thumbed through a few pages, finding the Table of Contents. It was massive, at least three pages long, and in ornate lettering that was difficult to read. “How on earth are we supposed to read this?”

  “Allow me.”

  He placed his index finger on the page, skimming it quickly. Without saying anything, he began flipping through the book, pausing only to check the page number. “Here,” he said, landing on a page. “This is a good one. It’s how Grimly the Great, the first great king of Thesperia, defeated the dark mage Qiro.”

  “How did you find it?” she asked, taking the book back from him.

  “I read a lot of ancient texts,” he said, smiling ruefully. “History’s a bit of a passion of mine.”

  “I see,” she said, smiling. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a scholar. That’s quite impressive.”

  His chest puffed up with pride.

  Looking back at the book – the pages of which were blessedly more legible – she began reading aloud. “The War of the Mages began when Qiro, the first true Dark Magic sorcerer, challenged the King of Thesperia, Grimly the Great, to a duel without swords at a tournament.”

  She paused. Grimly was my great-great-great grandfather.

  That wasn’t what was nagging at her. There was something else, something she was forgetting. “Wait a minute.” She reached into the pouch on her belt, plucking the note. Midnight leaned closer as she unfolded it. “Here,” she said, pointing toward the bottom of the page. “It’s signed by someone called ‘Grim’.”

  “Which is close but not exactly ‘Grimly,’ unless the king had a nickname. Even then, Grimly the Great is a legend. I’m sure any number of swooning mothers named their sons after him.”

  Her excitement faded. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was nothing more than a love-struck woman naming her son after a great king.

  Feeling a little disappointed, she turned her eyes downward. “The match was close, but Grimly was stronger,” she read. “He was the most powerful Charmed one the world had known. After his defeat, Qiro was exiled to the Silver Forest. It wasn’t long before rumors of a black wolf the size of a horse began surfacing, terrorizing towns and keeping people out of the Silver Forest, ultimately cutting off trading for a while. The country’s economy began to decline, and Grimly gathered his forces, setting off on a hunt to kill the black wolf.

  “But it was a trap. The wolf was cunning and had drafted many nasty creatures to its side. And on its back was Qiro, looking younger and more deranged. What followed was the bloodiest battle Thesperia has ever seen – the Battle by the Crystal Lake.”

  She paused, thinking how the Magic Mirror glittered like crystals in the moonlight. It was definitely more of a pond now than a lake, if it was indeed the same location, but perhaps it had shrunk over time. So much of the land had changed that it wouldn’t surprise her.

  “Grimly the Great won, though narrowly,” Midnight said, picking up where she left off. “He killed Qiro, and upon the dark sorcerer’s last breath, the wolf vanished with a howl, its Host dead.”

  “Grimly returned to his kingdom with barely one third of his army left,” she continued. “Thesperia was safe, but it went into a long period of mourning over its lost warriors. The king ruled for the next several years in peace, producing a male heir with his fair queen during that time, but he began to change. His eyes went dark, and he stopped coming to the marketplace to chat with the citizens. He was rarely seen, except when he took moonlit rides into the woods, late at night when the forest was at its darkest.

  “Servants said it wasn’t long before he began talking to himself, muttering about shadows following him. People thought he had gone mad. For the protection of her child, the queen had her husband locked up in their bedroom, with two guards posted outside and two inside at all times. The king grew very ill, and within a month, he was bed ridden and unable to speak at all. He would howl in his sleep, screaming and rasping that the shadows were closing in, that they were coming for him.”

  The air grew very still, and a prickling sensation formed across her arms and neck. “One night, there was a commotion in his room, and the guards inside began screaming. The rest of the guards tried to get in but couldn’t, despite the fact the door was not locked. Then suddenly, they were able to burst through. They found their two comrades lying dead on the floor, their mouths open in silent screams, and the king’s corpse lying on the bed, his pale white eyes open and staring
at the ceiling. None of the furniture was disturbed; not a window was open. The only clue left behind was a single, oil-black feather lying on the king’s chest.”

  “That’s odd,” she said, blinking. “He was murdered then?” Her father and mother had never told her that part. She always assumed he had died of natural causes.

  “So it would appear,” Midnight said, “but there’s no real evidence as to why he died. I think it was an assassin, poison perhaps, or some toxic gas. That would explain why nothing was moved around.”

  “Then where did the feather come from?”

  “It sounds like a signature.”

  “A what?”

  “A token left behind by the assassin, so you know it was his handiwork.”

  “The people thought highly of Grimly,” she said. “Everyone loved him.”

  “Everyone you know of.”

  She frowned, chewing on her lip. “Who could have hated Grimly enough to murder him?

  “A jealous rival? Thesperia was incredibly wealthy and powerful during that time. It could have been someone hoping to take down the throne and claim it for his own.”

  Something bumped around in the hallway. Midnight stiffened. “I should go. Wormwart’s looking for me.”

  “How do you know?” she asked as he got up, feeling a little disappointed.

  “Pack brethren can always sense when their leader is looking for them, and when he’s near. It’s not mind reading but just an inkling, if you will.” He looked back at her, smiling. “Thanks for reading the story with me.”

  She smiled back. “Thank you for finding me. You were right – I needed the distraction.”

  She looked down. The book was lying next to the blanket. “Wait,” she said, “you forgot your –”

  Midnight was already gone.

  With the room quiet again, she laid her head on her knees, thinking. So much rested on her ability to quickly learn how to use magic. Her sister’s – no, the entire kingdom’s – safety depended on it.

  With a disgruntled sigh, she stood and walked out of the room in search of Caspar.

  The cottage was fairly quiet. She had no idea where Midnight had gone, but she didn’t run into anyone as she slowly came down the stairs. Something was whooshing through the air in thin, quick slices. The stairs creaked slightly, but the sound was drowned out from the downpour outside. Shadows moved across the walls of the den, revealing the outline of a man. A figure came into view, his shirt open slightly, and his chest and face soaked in a glossy sheen.

  Natalia’s breath caught. Every inch of Caspar glistened. The hair stuck on his forehead was a darker shade of blond, and it was clear his shirt was soaking wet from the way it clung to his chest. The clingy shirt revealed the outline of muscles, much bigger than she would have thought for such a lithe man.

  Something in her heart twisted. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

  So focused on Caspar, she didn’t see the shadow creeping up behind her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Her Eyes Held Fire

  “There you are.”

  Natalia whirled, seeing Via’s blue doe eyes. The world titled on its axis, and she pressed a hand against the wall, steadying herself. “Allow me to guess,” Natalia said, closing her eyes so the room would stop spinning. “You walked through the wall.”

  “Through the floor, actually,” Via admitted, giving her an awkward smile.

  “Of course,” Natalia said, sighing. “The floor.”

  Via’s smile faltered. She let out a huge sigh, looking completely dejected. “I’m sorry for startling you all the time,” she said, crimson staining her cheeks. “It’s been a while since I’ve spent so much time around humans. I’m – well, I’m not very good at it.”

  “At what?”

  “At this. At people.” She looked down at her hands, which she kept clasping and unclasping in front of her. “Not that I ever was. It was a bit difficult to make friends when most of the kids your age lived in the town and thought you were a freak for being Charmed and living in the Silver Forest.”

  “I know what it’s like,” Natalia said softly, “feeling like you’re being left out of life, only I didn’t have powers so grand as yours.”

  Via’s eyes lifted. “No,” she said, eyes turning somber. “Your powers will be greater than mine.”

  As Natalia peered into her eyes, she swore they darkened, as if a curtain were closing shut, hiding Via’s thoughts.

  “At any rate,” Via said suddenly, walking past her and down the stairs, “we should stop wasting time and begin your training.”

  Natalia followed her, blushing as she passed Caspar. He glared at Via, obviously having not forgiven her yet for what she had done, but upon seeing Natalia’s encouraging smile, he relaxed somewhat.

  Via didn’t pay him any attention and proceeded to the kitchen.

  The hearth was lit, casting everything in an orange glow. Curiously, two small, elegant swords were already laid out on the table. “What’s this?” Natalia asked as Via handed one to her, hilt first.

  “You’re going to need it,” Via said, blue eyes glittering.

  A question formed on Natalia’s tongue when something moved from the corner of her eye. She whirled just as Via grabbed the other sword and lunged for her.

  “What are you doing?” Natalia asked, narrowly blocking her.

  “You need to learn to use magic in combination with physical attacks.” She slashed downward, making Natalia sidestep to avoid it. Her back slammed into a wall, and she rolled out of the way as Via’s sword came down, biting into the wood. “The first and most basic form of offensive magic is Summoning, or moving objects with a magic force,” Via said. “Get a lock on me with your mind. Feel your magic, and use the crystal to hone in on it and draw it up.”

  “How am I supposed to do that when I’m so focused on blocking you?”

  “Don’t worry.” Via grinned. “The blade’s blunt.”

  “Blunt or not,” Natalia said, parrying a gouge, “you could still crack my skull open.”

  “Focus,” Via said, more urgently.

  Natalia envisioned Via in her mind. She reached deep inside her soul, imagining the crystal as she felt for the river of energy she first noticed in the woods with Caspar. Slivers of light came to life in her head, and she pulled them up, bringing them to the surface of her thoughts.

  “Good,” Via murmured.

  The room was brightening, though Natalia had no inkling where the light was coming from.

  “Let the magic gather in your hands,” Via said, “and then shove it toward me.”

  Natalia did as she said, letting the energy pool in her hands until her fingers were heavy and tingling with it.

  “Now push!”

  Raising her arms, Natalia started to push out when she gasped, startled. Her hands were glowing bright red, the brightest spots being at her fingertips. The distraction broke her concentration, and the connection faded briefly as a small wave of energy rippled through the room toward Via. Via ducked, and the other side of the room rattled as the wave crashed into it, barely stirring anything.

  “That’s it!” Via said.

  “Bravo.”

  Caspar was leaning inside the doorframe, dripping wet.

  Heat rushed through Natalia, and both girls stood there gaping at him.

  “Please don’t stop on my accord,” he said, eyes flicking to Natalia. “See if you can knock her out next time.” He narrowed his gaze at Via.

  Shooting Caspar a wry look, Natalia refocused on her friend.

  It came quicker this time, the energy in her hands returning with a zing and brightening as her fingers lit up like scarlet flames. This time when she lifted her hands, she was ready. Using everything she had, she pushed outward with a grunt, releasing the magic gathered in her hands. The wave of energy collected into a swirling, writhing ball of red beams, like a cluster of snakes, which hurtled toward Via so fast she didn’t have time to dodge. It exploded into her, d
issipating upon impact as she was thrown to the ground so hard she slid backward, bumping her head against the wall.

  Caspar laughed and clapped. “Do it again!”

  “You’re not helping!” Natalia snapped, rushing over to Via. “I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” Via said, a bit dazed. She smiled. “You were marvelous.”

  Natalia helped her up, feeling incredibly guilty. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Via said, waving her off. “No harm done. Well, you’re certainly catching on quickly, though it’s no surprise since you have both our powers. We should also practice without a blood crystal, in the event you lose the necklace. It won’t be as easy controlling your magic without it, but it can be done if your mind is really focused.”

  Natalia wrapped her fingers around the crystal, afraid to take it off.

  Via raised a brow. “Do you want to be underprepared?”

  Natalia nibbled on her lip.

  “Are you willing to risk Rose’s safety on the chance you don’t have the crystal?” Via added.

  That was all the convincing Natalia needed. Without further argument, she lifted the necklace and deposited it into Via’s open palm, who then handed it off to Caspar.

  Footsteps came at her. Natalia barely had time to whirl when Via slashed at her, aiming right for her head. Eyes wide in shock, Natalia ducked, feeling her hair lift as the blade whooshed above her scalp. She straightened, backing up as Via came at her again.

  “Shields are a bit harder, but they’re similar to Summoning in that you have to concentrate the magic into one area,” Via said. “Imagine a shield on your arm, as real as any wooden or steel saucer.”

  Natalia started to do as she said, concentrating on forming a shield in her head, but Via feinted and she lost focus. Via was right – it was different without the crystal to hone and strengthen her magic. Gritting her teeth, she tried again to form a shield and lost her concentration every time she had to block an attack.