by P B Hughes
“It’s easy enough,” said Jude, “when the competition is less than competent.”
Chancellor Bubbs cackled with delight. “Mordecai, you didn’t tell me the boy had such a good sense of humor! Clever boy.”
A look of revulsion swept over Gregory’s face. “Sense of humor?” he whispered sullenly to Daniel. “Jude’s being serious.”
“I think we should get down to business,” said Ambassador Sweeny, spinning a gold ring on his left finger. “We don’t have time for pleasantries.”
Chancellor Bubbs pursed his lips and peered up at the ticking wall clock. “Quite right, quite right,” he replied, settling into his chair. “First, I think it’s important to share numbers with the lot of you. I must warn you, they do not look good.”
Ambassador Sweeny handed Bubbs a scroll. Bubbs reached inside his robes and pulled out a pair of spectacles, which he placed on the end of his nose.
“We have only twenty-one remaining active Guardians,” said Bubbs, reviewing the parchment.
“So few?” said Mordecai.
“I’m afraid so. Greavus’ plan proved effective, to say the least. The reason that even these Guardians survived is that most were abroad during the Investiture. Unfortunately, this puts us in a bit of a bind. We cannot control the territories we need with so few remaining. Thus, we have need of the six of you sooner than expected.”
“Our army is spread thin as well,” said Tiberius. “We’ve had deserters—those loyal to Greavus. Hundreds from our forces here. Far fewer in the surrounding territories, but it does not bode well.”
“Of course,” said Chancellor Bubbs, “Greavus hasn’t attacked yet. He is biding his time. Our intelligence operatives tell us that the crux of his army is composed of goblins from the north. And to make matters worse, Irachnia is teetering on the precipice of a full-fledged rebellion. Oldguard has taken himself a queen from the Southern Isles, and now he’s calling to secede, threatening to use force if we attempt to stop them.”
“Irachnia is too weak to withstand the force of the Empire,” said Jelani. “Even with the support of this new queen.”
“No they’re not,” Jude interjected. “Fighting a war on two fronts is dangerous and rarely results in victory. They are using the political unrest to their advantage.”
“Political unrest, yes, but our government is still intact,” said Ari. “And we aren’t technically at war—at least not yet. Why make such a bold move now when we still have armies at our disposal?”
Chancellor Bubbs scanned each of them, his unkempt eyebrows creasing. He looked pained, as if a bad memory resurfaced from long ago. “And that, my dear girl, is where you’d be wrong.” His chest rose and fell with an aching sigh. “The foundation of our government, the very cornerstone on which we were built, has been destroyed.”
Even Tiberius, with his ordinarily unshakable countenance, looked somber.
Mrs. Doppledodger suddenly seemed very interested. She pulled the pipe from her mouth and sat up straight. “Speak then,” she said sharply. “What do you mean?”
“Two months ago, the Emperor reached his sixteenth birthday and was supposed to return out of hiding from across the sea to claim his throne. But his ship never arrived.”
“But that doesn’t mean the worst,” said Mordecai. “He might just be lost.”
“That was our initial thought as well,” Bubbs replied. “After two weeks of waiting, we sent an envoy to the temple where Prince Uriah was training. But three days ago, our messengers returned with a report that the monks were long since dead, and have been for quite some time. It appears the Cythes devilry runs deeper than we ever imagined, for it is believed that they are the ones who murdered Emperor Oran and Queen Dalphinne, and that they followed Prince Uriah and killed him as well.”
Mrs. Doppledodger gasped and clutched her heart.
Bubbs gripped the arms of his chair more tightly. “The Cythes mean to have their vengeance for the ancient grievances, and they will not stop with snuffing out our royalty and Miraclists. They wish to destroy our entire way of life.”
The color had drained from Mordecai’s face. “It cannot be,” he said, steadying himself on the back of Daniel’s chair. “All our hopes were hanging upon his return.”
“Surely, all is not lost,” said Daniel. “Someone will step into Uriah’s role.”
“Emperor Oran has no surviving relatives,” Bubbs replied. “All hope is lost.”
To that, they all sat in stunned silence a moment, soaking in the ominous news.
General Tiberius rubbed his brow wearily. “Once we announce the prince’s death, there will be a mad scramble for the throne.”
Bubbs nodded firmly. “Unstable times, to be sure. That is why we must keep the Empire united—that is why we must keep Irachnia from seceding, and that is why we must stop the goblins from joining Greavus. Thus,” his eyes darted back and forth, “our plan is this: we send the six Guardians in this room on a mission—three to Chief Korophant of the Iron Cliffs, and three to the Ambassador Oldguard of the Irachnian capital city of Saragosa.”
“Us?” sputtered Nera. “But what do we know about international relations?”
“It does not matter what you know,” said Bubbs. “It matters what you can do. You are now the Empire’s most powerful weapons and you will be used as such. Neither the goblins nor the Irachnians dared openly rebel whilst we had a slew of Guardians and well-trained Miraclists at our disposal. But we will show them that we still have you—that we are still in power!”
“So what are you proposing?” Daniel asked. “That we go down there and slaughter them until they submit?”
“You will only use force when it’s necessary,” said Tiberius. “This will be a mission of diplomacy. We will not be sending either party alone. Sir Weston, Captain of the Imperial Guard will lead Jelani, Nera, and Gregory north, as he has had dealings with the Goblins of the Iron Cliffs. And to the south, Ambassador Sweeny will lead Jude, Ari, and Daniel.”
Ambassador Sweeny dipped his head. “It will be my pleasure. Those ruffians to the south could use some heavy-handedness.”
“Indeed,” said Bubbs. “Now, Mordecai tells me your final exams ended today. That gives you all of the Winter Holiday to complete your missions. You’ll be back in time for the start of the spring semester.”
“If I may, Chancellor,” said Mordecai, stepping out from behind Daniel’s chair. “I think you ought to reconsider sending Jude along.”
Jude’s head shot up in outrage.
“Not send Jude?” laughed Bubbs. “And why on earth not?”
Mordecai paused, choosing his words carefully. “Jude is needed here. To take all of the Guardians away from campus could prove—” he looked down at Jude “—dangerous.”
“Bah! I will not keep our Alpha behind. Jude goes with the rest of them.”
“Jude must stay behind, Chancellor,” Mordecai pressed. “Or at the very least, allow me to travel south with them.”
“No—my mind is made up. You will stay behind and fulfill your duties as Headmaster.”
Mordecai rose to his full height and looked as if he was gearing up to argue. He caught Daniel’s eye and calmed himself. “Forgive me, Chancellor. Perhaps we can discuss this further another time.”
“We will not have another time to discuss it, Headmaster,” Bubbs replied. “They leave tomorrow.”
Chapter 3
My name is Uriah, thought Daniel, and I was born in September. Two facts he had always wanted to know: his real name and his birthday—although he still didn’t know the exact day he was born. During their deliberation with Chancellor Bubbs, these facts had grabbed his mind and held fast; now he turned them over and over as he lay between Gregory and Jelani on their dormitory rooftop, gazing up at the stars.
Behind them their dormer window lay open, the gateway to their shingled hiding place. The roof sloped downward several yards, its eaves dropping over the rising treetops. They were told upon moving in that the r
oof was off-limits and the windows were bolted shut. Gregory had taken this proclamation as a challenge, and over the course of a few hours he forced the window open with the help of his knife. As the months passed, the spot became the favorite hang-out for the three boys, a place they visited often to escape the worries of the day.
Silence gripped Gregory after their meeting with Chancellor Bubbs. It was painful for Daniel to watch this miserable shadow fall upon his friend.
Though Daniel tried to defend Gregory, he knew the boy’s mind still clanged with Bubbs’ insults. Anything he said to heal the damage done by the tongue-lashing would be drowned out.
Involuntarily, Daniel dared a glance at Gregory. The boy looked dead with apathy, lying with his head against the rooftop in defeat.
“He’s right, you know,” said Gregory, as if he sensed Daniel’s every thought. “I have no business being here—being a Guardian. Brightcastle Hall isn’t meant for me.”
“It is as much meant for you as it is for anyone,” Jelani replied. “You have proven yourself worthy.”
“Worthy of what? I lost, plain and simple. Caden is better than me—better at everything. He should be the Ruby Guardian, not me.”
“Caden is a beast,” said Daniel. “He doesn’t deserve any position of power.” He turned over on his side. “And he’s not better than you at everything. You have better character.”
Gregory stifled a laugh. “You’re a nice kid, Daniel,” he said. “You’ve always been a nice kid. And to nice kids, stuff like good character matters. To everyone else in this world—the mean, spiteful, power-hungry devils—character is about as worthless as a lump of coal.”
“So, now we hold ourselves to the standards of evil men?” Jelani questioned. “Come now, Gregory—no more self-loathing from you. You are a fine young man and a fine Guardian. I am proud to fight beside you. Not only that, if Caden were a Guardian, our lives would be bitter indeed. I am quite glad for his disappearance.”
“Jelani’s right, Gregory. It’s better this way. Better for the whole Empire.”
Gregory bit his lip and closed his eyes, and Daniel knew he had crawled back inside his own mind. Daniel turned his sights back toward the stars, and the three of them lay in silence for a long time.
“But who’s to say I want to be a Guardian?” Gregory said suddenly, a scowl furrowing his forehead.
“What do you mean?” asked Daniel.
“There’s a target on our backs. You saw what happened back in the Arena—the Cythes want all Miraclists dead. And being a Guardian makes our heads the grandest prize. All the while our leaders—most of them of normal blood, mind you—go and place the world on our shoulders; the shoulders a bunch of kids. Negotiating with goblins; quelling rebellions; waging war. We’re barely sixteen! Not only that, but everyone before us—people far more powerful—they were all murdered. We’ll be murdered, too. I am not some hero; I don’t even belong here. The rest of you are stronger. You might stand a chance. But for me, being a Guardian means I’m as good as dead.”
Jelani heaved himself up slowly, the boards creaking beneath his weight. He took a deep breath and turned his head to the moon. “The shadows crawl,” he chanted, “the shadows crawl; they stretch across the land. The red sky burns a moment more, doused by shadow’s hand. Then comes the blackened time, when evil wins the night.” He paused a moment, looked down at Gregory and smiled. “But do not fear, for day will come; the horizon bursts with light.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Gregory asked.
Jelani lay back down, folding his arms behind his head. “That the worst thing that can befall you in life is death; but if you know death is not the end, that the Land of Light awaits you, then death is not to be feared.”
“I don’t want to die,” said Gregory sharply. “Not for the Empire, at any rate. We didn’t make this mess, and yet we have to clean it up. Why should that be our responsibility?”
Daniel had often pondered the same question—now more than ever. Not only was he a Miraclist and a Guardian, but now he had royal responsibilities. Responsibilities he never asked for; responsibilities he didn’t want. And yet they weighed on him all the same.
“True,” said Daniel, “we didn’t create this mess. But there are thousands of people that bear no blame for what’s occurring in Orsidia. And they don’t have what we have—our powers, our education, our training. I mean, we’re orphans, Gregory. The best shot we had at a good life was the hope that maybe someone would adopt us. And if not, then what? We’d be beggars the rest of our lives. We were given a gift. Something special. If we just sit back and watch the world burn then what does that make us? I’m afraid, Gregory, same as you. But we have to do something. If not us, then who will?”
Gregory stared down at his boots, thinking deeply on what Daniel had said. His posture relaxed and he released a pent-up sigh. “Maybe. But that doesn’t change how I feel. I still don’t want to die; not yet.”
“Why all this talk of death, Gregory?” Jelani asked. “You act as if your fate is already sealed.”
“It’s just,” Gregory replied, “it’s just I had the strangest dream—the kind of dream that felt so real, when I woke up, I had difficulty convincing myself it hadn’t really happened. I know it sounds crazy, but think it was a warning.”
“What kind of warning?” Daniel asked.
“That if I don’t take action, I’m going to die.”
Daniel felt the pull of Gregory’s words. But he didn’t want to feed any superstitious notions that Gregory was prone to. “Not all dreams mean something,” he said.
“But some do,” Jelani insisted. “My mother can interpret dreams. Go on, Gregory, tell us your story.”
“Right,” said Gregory, sitting up. “So, a few weeks ago, I went for a walk outside the city. I wanted to climb to the top of Northrock Bluff to enjoy the nice weather—you know, before a proper freeze sets in. I reached the top and lay down on the grass and looked out over the valley. A great place sit and think. But I didn’t do much thinking, really. The sun was so warm, and the turf was so soft, well, I guess I dozed off. But I don’t remember dozing. In fact, it felt like I just blinked, and then I saw him, coming up the path.”
“Saw who?” asked Daniel.
“A man,” Gregory said. “He didn’t say his name, but he was dressed in scarlet robes and shiny black boots. He looked funny, if you ask me, with pale skin, a high forehead, and beady black eyes. And he had this pencil-thin mustache that looked like two blades on his upper lip. Around his head he wore a gold circlet with a single, black jewel fixed in the middle. He looked so out of place it was all I could do not to laugh at him—like a king who’d lost his caravan. Instead, I smiled and greeted him in a friendly way.
‘Hello,’ I said. ‘What brings you to Northrock Bluff? Judging by your dress, you must be lost.’
‘I’m not lost,’ he replied in a shrill sort of voice. ‘I’m right where I need to be.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘that makes two of us, then.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘No, you’re not where you need to be, Gregory McPherson.’
Well, at that, I sat right up. He knew my name so I figured I must be in trouble again or something, and that this was another professor come to set me straight. ‘What did I do this time?’ I asked.
‘Do you not hear them?’ he said.
I cocked my head to listen, but I heard nothing but the wind and the birds. ‘No, I don’t hear anything.’
His eyes flashed with heat, and I swear the black jewel on his forehead sparkled, if a black jewel ever can. ‘The drums,’ he said. ‘The drums sound. They’re calling to you.’
Well, I laughed at him, then. Probably not the best thing to do, laughing at a king, but I couldn’t help it. ‘Is this a joke?’ I asked. ‘Did Daniel put you up to this?’
‘You are deaf and you are blind. They have given the donkey a set of shoes and told him to dance.’
‘Hey now,’ I said, insulted. ‘What
’s the big idea?’
And then he held out his hand, and I noticed his fingernails were jet-black. His brow darkened, and…” Gregory shuddered, and continued. “Truly, I don’t think I’ve been more frightened in my entire life. Not even during the massacre. There was murder in his eyes, like he would strangle me right there if I let him. I tried to reach for my staff, but I was frozen, unable to move.
‘You are but a shadow cast by the Great Flame, a false Guardian. You will die like the rest.’
I gaped at him, unable to breathe. And then he smiled down at me.
‘And yet,’ he said. ‘And yet you could have a grand destiny, a crown on your head. If only you would open your eyes and unblock your ears.’
Suddenly, my eyes began to burn white hot, and my eardrums pounded like they might burst. I clenched my head and writhed on the ground. Finally, the pain vanished, and I looked up. Everything had changed. The sky was yellow, and the valley below was burning. I heard the cries of people floating through the air, but even above their horrible screams, I heard the drums: pounding, pounding, pounding. The man floated before me, arms spread wide.
‘You will go north,’ he cried, ‘you will abandon the hollow path and fulfill your destiny. You will escape death and you will be…like a god!’
I stared at him a moment more, unable to find any words, and then, as if a great storm fell on top of me, I was engulfed in a swirl of darkness. A moment later, I woke up on the bluff as if nothing had happened, alone.”
For a moment, Daniel pondered Gregory’s dream and what it might mean. It was strange, disturbing, alarming. But Daniel shook those feelings away, and was left feeling sorry for Gregory. It was obvious his friend was being tormented by feelings of inadequacy, even in his sleep. And if those feelings were conjuring dreams such as those, they must have been brutal. Jude and Gregory both, he thought. I suppose I’m the lucky one.
“A strange dream,” said Jelani. “Definitely one with meaning. But how do you interpret it?”