Mykal wished his mother’s response had been different, that she’d have said whether he was a wizard or not she wished she’d taken him with her.
He understood the dangers, and why she claimed she did what she did.
Those things didn’t matter to him.
It was the same blame he placed on his father.
“I miss grandfather,” Mykal said. “He’s been alone far too long. He must think I’m dead by now.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “I know how you feel.”
She didn’t, he thought. He kept his mouth shut. “I just wish there was a way I could tell him I’m all right. I wish I could see him, and know that he’s okay, too.”
“That you can do,” Anna said.
“What can I do?”
“Check on him, make sure he’s all right,” she said.
“How can I do that? We’re basically a world away. I was close to home when we went to see King Nabal, but I didn’t get a chance to stop. We were forced to run for our lives. That was right before we traveled to the islands,” Mykal said.
“All we need is water,” she said. “It is called Scrying. You can manipulate the water so that it becomes something of a portal. While you think of your grandfather, or anyone for that matter, it will allow you to see them.”
“Like an image?”
“No, as if you were right beside them, right then and there,” she said.
“So if he’s cooking dinner when I scry—”
“Then you can watch him make the meal, set the table, and eat the food,” she said.
Mykal couldn’t help smiling. The idea was so simple, and yet if filled his heart where it had been hollow for some time now.
The smile faltered, some. “Mom,” he said. “Did you ever do that? Did you ever watch me?”
He regretted asking the question immediately. He wasn’t sure he could take much more rejection. If she said no—
He heard her sniffle. Was she holding back a sob? “I couldn’t,” she said.
“That’s okay.” He knew his cheeks turned red, and for the first time that night was thankful for the darkness. His skin felt hot, too. “I understand,” he said.
“No,” Anna said. “I don’t think you do. If I could have, I would have. That doesn’t mean I didn’t think about you. There wasn’t a single day that went by when I didn’t spend most of my waking hours just thinking about you, and all of my nights dreaming of you. Scrying is magic. I couldn’t risk it, I just couldn’t.”
“I know,” he said, but he didn’t.
“Not being with you, not seeing you was the most painful thing in the world, Mykal. At night I used to imagine you asleep, your face peaceful and angelic. It was the best I could do, and it was never enough, and it always just left me feeling empty and cold.” She took a deep breath. “I never knew Eadric came looking for me, that he never returned home to you. I always let myself be comforted thinking that at least you had your father to raise you. Part of me expected he’d moved on, met someone new, remarried. I actually took solace in those thoughts, that you had all become a happy family together. I let myself believe in and find faith in the fairytale I’d created.”
The line stopped moving.
“The caves are just ahead of us.” Basin removed a bag he’d worn over both shoulders. He set the bag on the ground, and knelt beside it. There was a small thumb-size lever he transitioned from one side to the other, over the top of the bag. It made an odd zzzzzzz sound. With the mouth of the bag open, he reached inside and pulled out three torches, and a few coils of rope.
“Will guards be stationed by the entrance?” Blodwyn said.
“Not usually,” Basin said. “If you think this path we’re on to the cave entrance is treacherous, you’ve not witnessed anything yet. Once we’re inside it only gets worse. This is not going to be easy. You’ve got to remember that most of Cordillera’s subjects just come and go by the front of the castle. The only reason someone would want to use some of these passages is to sneak in or out. It’s not likely a legion is going to attack the castle from the caves. It wouldn’t make sense. A man with a mallet could bop people on the head as they came up out of the floor, if you see what I’m saying. So no, I don’t think knights will be an issue, unless they are expecting all of you? We will have much more lethal concerns that are to be dealt with.”
“Lethal?” Quill said.
“Aye. There will be more snakes, and spiders—”
“Spiders?” Mykal recalled the giant, hairy arachnids he’d encountered under the Cicade Forest when searching for Pendora’s hand mirror. The memory of the bite that nearly killed him made the area on his skin itch.
“Spiders,” Basin said, as confirmation. “We’re gonna want these torches. It is so black inside there; the fire won’t even be visible much past our own faces. And as I’ve said, it is highly unlikely the king has any sentries posted.”
“The torches are okay, but not magic?” Anna said.
“Don’t ask me about any magic, ma’am. I haven’t the knowledge needed to answer the question. You want to use it, use it. Anything that will help us travel the bowels of the mountains easier is okay by me,” Basin said.
“We’re too close, mother,” Mykal said. He thought he had heard something in Anna’s tone of voice. He recognized the sound. She was anxious, as if eager to suddenly use her power again. He supposed it had been tough spending all of these years hiding her abilities. “If King Cordillera’s witch senses us underneath the castle, all of this sneaking around will have been for nothing.”
“I know, you’re right,” she said.
“What about Cavers?” Coil said.
Mykal recalled their encounter with the Cavers inside the depths of the Gorge caves, under the Zenith Mountains. That was where Quill’s man Anthony died, and the rest of them had come close.
“Not under the Rames,” Basin said. “No. No Cavers.”
That was a relief, perhaps the only sign of luck to befall them thus far.
“And Basin? You can get us to the dungeons?” Blodwyn asked.
“The route I take doesn’t open in the dungeons. They are held even deeper down below the castle. No we will come out of the cave in the servants’ quarters. As far as a safe place to exit, that will be about as safe as it gets,” Basin said.
“You will guide us to the dungeons?” Coil said. His voice was like rolling thunder, despite whispering.
Basin let out a soft chuckle. “What did you tell these people, Wyn? I am going to deliver you to the trap door up to the servant’s quarters. I believe having done that, my debt has been repaid.”
“Debt?” Mykal said.
“It will have been repaid… in full,” Blodwyn said, and nodded.
Lightning flashed across the sky. Everyone looked up toward the heavens. There were fast moving black clouds closing in.
“A storm is coming,” Eadric said.
“There was no thunder,” Anna said. She stood close to her husband. Mykal watched them hold hands.
“It’s magic,” Mykal said. He closed his eyes. He couldn’t see the wisps of color snaking around him, but he sensed it. It felt like thousands of bugs running up and down his arms. His skin itched terribly. He clapped his palms onto forearms and rubbed his flesh for comfort. “It isn’t the witch. It’s not her magic,” Mykal said.
“Whose is it?” Blodwyn said.
Mykal opened his eyes. “Galatia! I am not sure what she’s doing, but it’s big magic. Something powerful. And more.”
“More?” Blodwyn said.
“There is something else. Someone else. They have magic, too.”
Quill said, “The witch?”
“No. No. It’s not her. I don’t sense her at all.” Mykal knew that his parents didn’t know anything about the witch, other than what had been shared in retellings. He hoped this was a good sign, that Galatia had managed to get the upper hand and was overpowering the Mountain King.
More lightning split the sky
. The static charge came out of the clouds. The streak slammed into the ground with a loud boom. It happened behind them, toward the valley. A tree must have been struck, and if it hadn’t been destroyed by the bolt, at the very least it must be burning.
“The storm is getting worse,” Basin said. “I can’t believe I am going to say this.”
“Say what?” Coil said.
“We better get into the caves, it might be safer inside there,” Basin said, and started walking toward a thin crevice between the Rames rocks.
Chapter 19
“Is it working?” Hermon Cordillera said, unable to take his eyes off Galatia. He could feel energy surge around him in the dungeon. The hairs on his arms, and the back of his neck stood on end. His skin tingled. He wiggled his fingertips and ran them across his palms to ease the overwhelming sensations.
Ida’s plan was working. Manipulating the sorcerer’s mind was going to pay off.
“It’s working,” the witch said. “It’s working.”
Cordillera thought he knew what to expect, and believed he was ready. Pendora would come to rescue Galatia, and at the very moment Pendora appeared, he would lock her away in the enchanted cell. In theory, the concept was simple enough. That was the problem with theory.
Pressure grew inside the room. It was hard to explain. Cordillera felt it in his head. He pressed his hands over his ears, suddenly afraid his eardrums would pop. His eyes ached. He shut them tight, afraid they might burst from the sockets. He shook his head back and forth as someone screamed.
He screamed. It was him screaming.
Cordillera’s mouth was wide open, his tongue rattled around banging against the roof of his mouth, and over his teeth. His throat went suddenly dry, and it felt as if his tongue swelled to the size of a fist.
Lightning flashed again and again inside the dungeon. The crisp, bright white light was hot. The heat seared hair off Cordillera’s arms. Smoke rose from the ground. It smelled like something was burning, more than just his hair. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He staggered backward, his shoulder crashed into the rock wall. His knees wobbled, and he almost dropped to his knees.
As quickly as it all began, it stopped. Slowly, the pressure subsided.
Seeing more clearly, Cordillera noticed three things at once. Ida looked as shaken as he felt. She was doubled over, and vomiting in a corner. Galatia was still shackled to the table. Blood seeped from the corners of her closed eyes, and from her nostrils. The third thing he saw was a woman standing off to the side. She wore a green gown, jewels around her neck, and rings with large white stones on her fingers. Her hair was long, brown, and full of loose curls. She was very, very beautiful with almost almond dark skin, and painted red lips.
Pendora.
Cordillera knew there was not much time to react. He moved quickly toward her. She took a step back.
“In here,” he said. “Move, move!”
She was off balance, but followed his lead, and stumbled toward the cell. “What is going on?”
The element of surprise would quickly vanish. He had to move fast. He stepped forward and snagged her head in a tight hold under his arm. He squeezed her neck tight, if not cutting off then limiting her air. Her mouth was open as she gasped for breath. He closed pliers onto her protruding tongue so hard that the muscle crunched. She struggled then, thrashing about. Being bent over, and her head locked in place, the wild punches she threw were ineffective. There was no time left to spare, so the king yanked on the pliers with all of his strength. Her tongue snapped out of her mouth easier than expected. There was a lot of blood.
He let her crumble to the floor. She was on all fours, coughing and spitting blood. She howled, and writhed about in pain.
Cordillera tossed the pliers and tongue aside. He grabbed the injured wizard by the back of her hair and dragged her into the cell. His heart hammered so hard inside his chest he thought it might implode. He slammed the gate shut, and locked it.
“Welcome to my home, Pendora.” Cordillera retrieved the hand mirror, and sauntered over toward the cell, but kept a safe distance. He knew he’d dismantled her magic by removing the tongue. If she couldn’t clearly speak the incantations, she was defenseless, but just in case he was wrong… He dropped the mirror onto the floor. The glass shattered. Pendora jumped back as if she personally felt pain from his gesture. He raised a leg in the air and brought the heel of his boot down hard. He ground the rest of the glass underfoot. Covered in blood, dirt and a stream of tears, she clung to the iron bars and stared at him with wild, unblinking eyes. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you. You are my prisoner,” he said. He was somewhat winded from the struggle, from the rush of adrenaline, and was trying to catch his breath and regain composure. His insides were like liquid sloshing around under his skin. That entire confrontation had been extremely exciting.
Pendora raised her hands. She aimed fingers at the Mountain King and rattled off words that sounded like nothing but gibberish. For just a moment Cordillera thought his heart stopped. The sorcerer attempted wielding magic, and he expected something to happen; waited for a moment for something to happen. When nothing did, he laughed. Hard. He threw his head back and bellowed with a hand across his stomach.
“You have no power in that cell; and no power without your words, Pendora,” he said. “None.”
She didn’t stop trying. Her gibberish became more intense, but was still just nonsensical gibberish punctuated by spraying blood.
“It will not work,” he said, assuring her. He kicked the pliers that still clutched onto several inches of tongue toward the cell, but not so close she could reach it. He did not know if she had the ability to reattach the muscle, and didn’t wish to risk that happening. To be safe, he walked over and, like the mirror, crushed the tongue with the heel of his boot. “Your efforts are wasted, and will only drain you of energy.”
Galatia wasn’t moving. Cordillera hoped she hadn’t expired. While summoning Pendora had been painful, the process worked. They needed to complete the ritual two more times. Just twice more, and then King Hermon Cordillera could siphon away their magic.
“How is she?” Cordillera said.
Ida looked half dead standing beside the shackled wizard. “She’s alive, barely.”
“Let’s call the next wizard.”
“She needs to rest.”
Cordillera grunted, shaking his head. “How long?”
“I can’t answer that,” Ida said.
Cordillera walked toward the stairs. His legs felt heavy, lifting them for walking was a chore. Pain radiated in his lower back. He knew he was bent forward. If he didn’t have the wall as a guide, surely he’d fall over. “I’ll be back in one hour! Don’t leave them alone. And if Galatia wakes up, do not let the two of them talk! Well, you know what I mean” he said, staring with a raised eyebrow at Pendora.
He needed wine. Ale. Something to wet the inside of his mouth. His tongue didn’t feel as swollen, but he was still dry, so dry. “And you,” Cordillera pointed at Pendora, “you wait right there for me. I’m not done with you.”
Pendora maintained a fierce stance, as if ready to fight, despite bars around her, and her magic trapped.
Cordillera climbed the stairs, laughing.
***
Outside the mouth of the cave, the wind blew the falling rain so that it fell sideways. They were all huddled close inside the rock. Basin had secured rope around everyone’s waist.
“This necessary?” Coil said.
“The deeper in we go, the darker it gets. These torches will only be worth the light they hold to those carrying them,” Basin said. “I don’t think you know darkness like this.”
“And there are just snakes and spiders?” Mykal said.
“Best as I recall,” Basin said. “Okay people. We move slow and steady. I don’t think we have to worry about being quiet. Like I said, shouldn’t be anyone else down here. Doesn’t mean we should be yelling back and forth to one another, because th
e truth is, you just never know. Not sure about the rest of you, but the last thing I want is to be arrested for sneaking into this castle; do you see what I’m saying?”
Mykal nodded. Blodwyn was beside him. Quill held a torch next to them. Anna and Eadric shared a torch, as did Coil and Basin.
They started forward. Mykal felt an awkward tugging at his waist. It was supposed to work as a lifeline. He worried it would hinder them if attacked. They were tethered together, which seemed just as detrimental as it did to their benefit.
Mykal knew he couldn’t use magic. Still, he wanted the ability to sense their surroundings. If venomous creatures lurked about he felt responsible for alerting the others. Quill and his father had sensed a cobra without the use of any magical powers. If they could be that attuned, he wasn’t sure why he couldn’t. He just wasn’t sure how to do it. He didn’t want to attempt one thing, and accidentally tap into his magic.
“Can you still feel her?” Blodwyn said.
Their shoes crushed loose gravel underfoot. People breathed slow, shallow breaths.
“I can’t.” Mykal watched where he placed his feet. The path was two-people wide at this point. Basin had been correct, though, as they rounded the first sharp bend the cave became a pitch black tomb. The torch flames ahead of and behind Mykal looked like little more than kitchen table candles. Even with Quill beside him, the torchlight did little to fend off the darkness. “She was there for a time. I felt so much strength and power. It was almost like, it is hard to explain, but it was almost like a giant light inside my body, so bright and white I couldn’t see anything else but the light.”
“So she is alive?” Blodwyn said.
“Yes. I think so. At least, she was,” Mykal said.
“She was?”
“Remember I said there was something else, something more? Well, I think I know what it was, what it is.”
“She summoned one of the other wizards,” Anna said. She went a long time without blinking, and she tipped her head, her chin slowly dropping toward her chest. It was like she was deflating in front of him.
Severed Empire: Wizard's War Page 17