Amanda Applewood and the Return of the False King: An Everworld Book

by Raymond Williamson

  She looked around, the workmen conscious of her presence, were staring at her. She’d heard the rumors about her. That she thought of herself as some sort of magician. That people thought King was crazy for his belief in her. That people who crossed her often died mysteriously. She’d heard that people feared her more than they feared King. She smiled inwardly. She glared at the foreman. Realizing what he was about, he collected himself.

  “Back to work!” he shouted.

  That settled, Merga got down on all fours, her hands flat on the dusty gravel. She reached out to the magic. She reasoned

  that if the fault were truly a weak spot in the barrier between the worlds then the magic would be strongest there. She crawled around like a dog looking for a scent, seeking the exact spot where the magic felt nearest. Her knees and palms were pierced by the sharp stones but she ignored the pain and continued her search. She backtracked several times and after almost an hour, she finally stopped. She rose up on to her knees and took a small object out of one of her pockets. The talisman that had come to her as a child. The one that revealed the magic to her, created by her ancestor it allowed her to use, no, command the magic. The clear crystal in its center was still red with the soul of one of those who’d crossed her. It would be this lifeforce that she’d consume to power her spell. Hopefully it would be enough. She’d not want to overextend the talisman and consume her own lifeforce as she’d done once before.

  In her mind as she called out, she could hear the whale song cry in pain. She felt the magic flow through her. Carefully, she pictured the drill behind her, piercing the gap. She was meticulous in the details. The magic was very specific, if there were a single loophole in her intent, the magic would take advantage of the opportunity to interpret her request to suit its own purposes, often to disastrous effect. When she was certain she would be obeyed, she rose to her feet unsteadily. Gleb, always protective, took her arm to steady her.

  She motioned at the drill with one hand and Gleb led her towards the towering yellow engine. With her instructions still clear in her mind, and with the magic still struggling to escape her grasp she placed her torn hands on the warm metal and enchanted the drill leaving blood colored palm prints burned into

  the paint. Wearily she stepped back. She looked at the talisman; the crystal was clear. Whatever magic it had possessed had been consumed. It would need to be recharged before she could perform spells of any significance. She took a step and almost collapsed. With surprising gentleness, Gleb swept her up into his

  arms and carried her to the car where Rufus was waiting impatiently to drive back to the city.

  Rheme

  Amanda pulled Percy to his feet. He dusted himself off and nodded thanks as he watched the dragon carry Sarah away towards the distant mountains. Stunned, she looked off after them into the distance; concern on her face. After several long moments she looked at the soldier who was still gazing towards the horizon.

  “You ok?” she asked.

  “I’ve failed you milady,” he said.

  “You fought a dragon with that little toothpick. What did you expect?”

  “Still, I should have taken more care.”

  “You’re very brave. It could have roasted you with its fiery breath,” she said.

  He laughed. “Dragons only breathe fire in fairy tales.”

  Amanda unwillingly smiled. Before she could respond, Percy continued.

  “Still, she’s very formidable, I wish we had some help.”

  “With or without help, we need to go after them,” said Amanda sternly. “I’m not going to let Sarah get eaten by a dragon.”

  “Dragons don’t usually eat people.”

  “I’m not willing to take that chance,” she replied.

  He acknowledged her comment with his eyes.

  “We can’t go back the way we came, that’s certain.”

  “Will the guards come for us?” she asked hopefully.

  “Only if the battle went well. It’s safer to assume it went poorly and that no one’s coming for us.” he said. “Normally, I’d suggest we head to the castle. But whomever is seeking you will have considered that. They’ll have patrols covering all of the routes.”

  Amanda thought for a moment. “Can the sprite thingy

  deliver a message for us? We can start off and any help can follow.”

  “That’s brilliant!” said Percy. “I should have thought of that. Though, I’m not surprised that you did. I should have expected it from someone so wise.”

  “Otto!” he said.

  The sprite appeared, still carrying the tablet. They were both a little dusty, but neither was damaged. Percy quickly scribbled a note and gave it to the sprite. “Take this to the castle. It will tell them what happened and let them know we are going to give chase.”

  The sprite set down the tablet and in three bounds had disappeared into the pumcorn field, and was gone.

  Amanda picked up the tablet and dusted it off.

  “Take this,” said Percy as he handed her his black satchel. “What does it do?” he asked as she stuffed it in the bag.

  She tried to explain but he couldn’t grasp concepts like internet, Wi-Fi, Facebook or who “The Google” was. Although, he was impressed by his vast knowledge and that he had time to answer everyone’s questions.

  Amanda caught Percy sizing her up. She could tell he was thinking. She tensed as though expecting another argument. After a moment, he shrugged.

  Reaching into the field, he snapped the head off of one of the strange looking stalks and peeled back the purple leaves revealing a darker purple cluster of kernels that looked like a cross between wheat and purple corn. He nibbled at one of the ears. Satisfied, he snapped off several more and stuffed them in his pockets. He handed some to Amanda to stuff into her bag then, he looked at the sky.

  “Can you run?” he asked.

  “All day long,” she replied. It was the one thing that she knew without a doubt that she excelled at. Her cross-country coaches had always remarked at her even, effortless looking

  stride. It was one of those coaches who’d encouraged her to

  consider scholarships. “That seemed so unimportant now,” she thought to herself.

  “Good, we have several hours of light yet. There’s a creek not far from here. We’ll run until we reach it.”

  Without waiting for her to acknowledge, he turned and trotted off. Amanda, startled for a moment at his sudden departure, quickly followed.

  The even pace he set was such that they could move quickly but still speak comfortably. He had an effortless grace that reminded her of one of the mustangs she’d seen galloping across an open plain that previous summer in North Dakota.

  “Why did you say that you expected me to be wise?” asked Amanda.

  “You’re a wizard,” he replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  “I’m not a wizard,” she said.

  “When you commanded the dragon to stop, the power of your word practically knocked her over. Why do you think she fled?” he said.

  Amanda had no answer for that. They jogged on in silence until they reached the stream. Amanda collapsed but Percy pulled her to her feet. “You’ll tighten up,” he cautioned. “Here.”

  He pulled two cups from his bag, filled them with water and then sprinkled in some copper colored powder. Amanda tasted it. It was salty. She watched him drink first then swallowed hers. At Percy’s prompting, they drank their fill.

  “What’s the plan?” asked Amanda.

  “There’s a village, Rheme. We should be able to get horses and supplies,” he said.

  “I don’t know how to ride. Sorry,” shrugged Amanda.

  “Nothing to be sorry about,” he replied matter-of-factly.

  Amanda had been awaiting some form of judgement, or at least some disappointment. The lack of it surprised her. No, it made her feel safe.

  “We should eat something,” he said.

  He peeled one of ears and s
napped it in half.

  Amanda tasted the offered half-ear. It was starchy sweet and she was surprised that she tasted the faintest hint of pumpkin. They ate quickly then began to walk. Within moments, any fatigue she’d felt had faded and she felt reinvigorated.

  “What did you put in the water?” asked Amanda.

  “A little alchemy. A little magic,” he said.

  He returned the stunned look on Amanda’s face with a smile.

  “We should keep moving,” he said.

  They climbed up a hill that led away from the stream back towards the highway. Percy nodded to her, Amanda nodded back and they began to run.

  While the sun was still high in the sky, they reached the small town of Rheme. At its center, dozens of tidy round building formed concentric circles around great bronze statue that overlooked a central well. The sunlight reflected off the polished metal cast a blinding glare that masked the face from Amanda’s view. She wondered who could have inspired such a monument.

  She looked around the crowded town’s round. The inhabitants moved briskly and purposefully about from place to place among the cobblestone streets. Blue was the predominant skin tone. Green was less frequent but not what she would call scarce. She shied away when she looked into the dark eyes of one of the green-skinned, rat-faced creatures as it passed. One man looked like her. With pink skin, he was tall and thin with greying hair and clearly less well dressed than those with blue skin she noted.

  Amanda watched as Percy cast his gaze around as he walked a full circuit around the statue. She caught him staring at a group of armed men on horseback who were riding casually across the round. A man with a deep scar on his face locked eyes with Percy as they passed.

  “Do you know them?” she asked.

  “One or two. Traitors,” he replied.

  “Traitors?”

  “They fought on the side of the usurper.”

  “If they’re traitors, why are they just free to wander about? Isn’t the Queen worried about them rising up again?” asked Amanda.

  “She offered an amnesty to any commoners who laid down arms and swore a new oath. Most of them are alright I suppose. They’d’ve been following orders of their lords; likely just went back to their land to work. Those lot, that went past, mercenaries and highwaymen I’d wager.” She detected an edge to his voice the longer he spoke on the topic. Clearly it angered him, she thought to herself.

  “Just the commoners?”

  “Any of the nobility who fought with Rufus were stripped of their lands and titles.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “Any who were caught - hanged. The rest, fled into hiding,” his eyes locked on a building in across the round.

  “This way,” he pointed to building with a picture of a pig hanging from a post out in front.

  The Red Pig was a two-story stone structure with a swept walk, clean glass windows and stable in good repair. Horses and asses of various quality sipped at a trough of water by the entrance as the pair stepped in off of the street.

  Chatter could be heard through the windows of the common room that were flung open towards the street. The noise died away quickly as multihued patrons sitting around the worn wooden tables stared curiously at Amanda. She caught the stares of the men as they caressed her up and down with their

  eyes. Her shorts and tank clearly revealing more of her pink skin than appropriate for the local community. In a manner copied from her mother, she challenged each stare with a stern glare; forcing every man, except for one, to look away. A green tinted

  man with a wide grin, overly pointed ears and the large eyes of

  an anime character merely tipped his hat, smiled and sipped at his drink.

  “What are you looking at g’blinken?” snapped Percy.

  “Nothin’ milord. No offense intended,” replied the g’blinken. He turned away leisurely and resumed his conversation with a leather clad, thick-wristed man sharing his table.

  A stick thin woman with hair escaping from under her kerchief scurried into the room with a shawl in her hands.

  “Oh heavens!” she shrieked. “Were you robbed?”

  She immediately threw the shawl over her Amanda’s shoulders and hustled her away from the leering eyes of the men in the lounge.

  “Come dearie, let’s find you to find something to wear,” she said as she ushered Amanda up a set of stairs that presumably led to the rooms which were for rent.

  Amanda returned a short time later wearing a well-worn but serviceable blouse and a patched skirt that hung to her ankles. Like a faithful hound, Percy hadn’t moved from where she’d left him standing. Clearly relieved at her return, Percy strode confidently up to the bar and rapped his knuckles in a friendly manner on the polished wood.

  “Innkeeper, a word,” he said.

  The proprietor was a tidy looking, thick waisted man with a broad nose that turned up like a pig’s snout. He narrowed his eyes and looked the boy up and down.

  “Milord, how may I serve you?”

  “I need a horse and provisions,” said Percy.

  “I’ll need to see your coin first.”

  Percy returned the innkeeper’s gaze. “I’m on a task for the crown. My mark will suffice. You can send your slip to the Exchequer for payment.”

  “A meal and a few ales are one thing to take on credit milord, but a horse and provisions is quite entirely another,” said

  the innkeeper. He wiped his hands on his apron, reached across

  the bar and rubbed Percy’s cape between his fingers. “You wear the uniform of a soldier, but the based on the quality of your cape, and the insignia on that cloak pin holding it closed, I’d wager heavily that you’ve some coin tucked away somewhere on your person for contingency purposes,” he added.

  Amanda cocked her head at the innkeeper’s comments. Percy blushed at her curious look as he raised his hand to cover the silver pin with a large blue sapphire inset above an emblem of some sort.

  “Perhaps, I’ll need to see the horse first,” he said.

  In the stable behind the inn, the innkeeper paraded the animal around the small corral. The horse was of questionable pedigree at best. She was thin in the ribs and slightly swaybacked, but she showed spirit when Percy led her around.

  “She all you’ve got?” he asked.

  “At this moment. Yes. Something might come available. You could stick around for a few days. I can’t promise anything though.”

  Amanda looked hopefully into his eyes.

  “You’re asking how much for her?” he enquired.

  She looked on with interest as Percy began to dicker with the innkeeper; recalling the time she watched Papa expertly haggle with the dealer over her mother’s Subaru.

  “Twenty in silver or the equivalent in gold,” said the innkeeper.

  “If your intent is to rob me, then stick a knife in my ribs and be done with it,” laughed the young soldier. “Even were I on the most urgent task for the Queen, if I were to go to the Exchequer and tell him that I paid twenty in silver for this nag I’d be hung for theft.”

  “Would you make an offer?” asked the innkeeper.

  “I’d not want to insult you. You clearly need the horse more than I if you’re expecting twenty in silver for her. We’ll take provisions for a week, a pair of good blankets, and we’ll be on our way,” he said.

  The innkeeper fearing a lost sale countered quickly. “Seeing as you’re on a task for the crown,” he stammered. “I’d be content to take five in silver and your pinkling here for the horse and another for the provisions.”

  “The Lady,” he emphasized, Lady, “isn’t for sale.”

  “Lady? My apologies sir. Not often you meet a pinkling what’s been risen.”

  “Let’s go Amanda. I’m sure someone else in this town will sell us a horse,” said Percy. As he turned to leave, the innkeeper grabbed his arm. Percy looked at the innkeeper’s hand gripping his shirt, nervously, the innkeeper pulled it away.

  �
�My sincerest apologies sir, I meant no insult. To make amends, I’ll gladly sell you the horse and provisions for four in silver and I’ll throw in some decent tack.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” said the boy. “I’d not want anyone to know that I dealt with someone who’s so transparent about their prejudices.”

  “Percy, we’re in such a hurry. I really don’t want to spend any more time looking. Can’t we just take the horse and go,” interjected Amanda.

  “You’d have me deal with someone who cast such a foul insult in your direction! I’m one breath away from challenging him to duel so I can gut him like a fish.”

  The innkeeper suddenly looked as though he was about to be sick.

  “A duel!?! Gut him like a fish!? Over a name? You must be joking. Pay the man his money and let’s get out of here!” she snapped.

  “Yes, Milady,” replied Percy meekly.

  “You heard the Lady. Let’s conclude this business so I can get out of your loathsome presence.”

  The horse wandered over to her and Amanda started to scratch her nose. “Does she have a name?” she asked.

  “Lightening, Milady. Her name is Lightening.” replied the innkeeper, bowing deeply and keeping his eyes down until Percy

  released him to rise with a tap on the shoulder.

  Amanda looked on in interest as Percy’s glared at the innkeeper while he scurried about like a frightened hen barking orders to his wife and the kitchen staff; sending anything that wasn’t his finest back to his storeroom. He stood to the side nervously, wringing his hands as Percy inspected the provisions. Satisfied, he paid the man and mounted the horse; pulling Amanda up behind him with ease.

  “If she dies on the road before I complete my task you can be assured that the local magistrate will be paying you a call,” threatened Percy before turning the horse away and setting off down the road.

  Amanda looked back as they rode out of Rheme, the innkeeper’s wife was in front of the inn speaking to the man with the scar on his face. The man whose presence angered Percy.