by P B Hughes
“Shade found me,” he had said once. “Of course, the fairies showed me where she was, but that was only because she was injured by Rahsta Murke before she could get to me. But she knew where I was; she knew to come to Littleton. No one told her how to get there.” She remembered his soft smile, and how he looked at his companion with a mixture of pride and love. “We’ve got a connection…it’s difficult to explain.”
It was one of the only times Ari felt Daniel was holding back, not sharing the whole truth behind what he meant. But she chose not press him at the time. Caden had once accused her of creating meaning where it did not exist. Like when he told her he intended to double his father’s company’s profits after he graduated from Brightcastle Hall. She took that to mean he would abandon his responsibility as a Guardian. Then there was the time more recently that she had accused him of targeting the Littleton Miraclists during the Investiture. He made her feel so foolish for questioning him. Of course, he told her, he would be able to balance a company and being Alpha of the Guardians, and how silly of her to charge him with targeting the Littleton Miraclists when he really wanted to oust every Miraclist that didn’t belong to Apex Academy. So she resolved to not allow her thoughts to run away from her. It was only recently—when she realized how right she had been—that she allowed her intuition to flow freely again.
Shade’s eyes popped open and she spread her wings with a whoosh. She readied herself to spring into the air.
“Wait!” Ari cried, leaping forward and grabbing Shade by the collar.
The gryphon did not struggle, but warned Ari with a thunderous growl to release her.
“Shade, I want to go with you,” Ari said, fearing the gryphon’s strength for the first time. “We can find him together.”
“Ari,” said Marcus, “have you lost your mind? You’re trying to reason with a beast.”
“I know,” she replied. “But Shade’s no ordinary beast. She’s connected to Daniel. She knows where he is. And if he’s in trouble, I mean to save him.”
Ari could see Shade’s body tense, her yellow eye fixing on her as if to check her sincerity. Then she bristled, ruffling as her whole body relaxed with what seemed to be an answer.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Marcus said, standing. “I’m not letting you or that gryphon out of my sight. We’ve already lost two today, and I’ll not lose another.”
“Daniel’s not dead,” she shot back. “And not to offend you Marcus,” she tipped her staff and raised an eyebrow, “but there’s no way for you to stop me.”
“I’ll tie you up if I have to—”
“Let her go, Marcus,” said Jude. His face looked older than before, tired, and sad. “She’s right about one thing. Someone has to find Daniel. Whether or not he and Shade have some emotional connection I cannot confirm. But if he is alive, then he is without supplies and without his staff. And while there is a chance he could survive without them, it is likely the burns he sustained from Caden have left him in dire straits. Daniel has to be found. If he isn’t then he will die.”
Marcus opened his mouth to protest, but Jude raised his hand to silence him. “My title as Alpha has not changed,” said Jude. “Someone needs to search for Daniel, and Ari is the logical choice. She can cover the greatest ground in the shortest amount of time.”
“If Caden catches her alone, he’ll kill her,” Marcus said.
“If Caden catches us together,” Jude countered, “he would kill her anyway.”
Ari appreciated Jude siding with her for once, and cast him a kind look. He had been through a lot in a matter of hours and seemed to be holding together well enough. And for that, her admiration for him grew. She turned to face Marcus, released Shade’s collar and placed her hand on her furry neck. “I will not be alone, Marcus,” she said. “Shade will be with me.”
Marcus threw his arms into the air. “What does my opinion matter, anyways?” he said. “I’m only a cadet, after all. Sworn to protect all of you. I’ve already failed in my mission, so at this point why would another loss be any worse?”
The comment made Ari’s heart sink for the boy. She knew he was only trying to do his duty. “You’ve done a fine job protecting us, Marcus,” she said. “If it weren’t for you, our losses would be exponentially greater. And for that, you have my thanks. But we have not failed our mission, it has only changed. Now you and Jude must get to Saragosa and deliver that message. Keep each other safe. I don’t want to have to come searching for you, too.”
A smile formed at the edge of Marcus’ mouth. Small as it was, it gave Ari a tinge of optimism. “Be safe, Miss Celeste,” he said. “You’re a brave girl. Daniel is lucky to have you.”
Ari couldn’t stop the blood rushing to her face. It was silly to think of that at a time like this. “Daniel is…a good friend, Marcus,” she said. “And so are you. Be safe in return—I’ll see you back at the Imperial City.”
Ari swung her leg onto Shade’s back the way she had seen Daniel do it a hundred times before. She had ridden Shade twice, but only for short distances, and she couldn’t help but feel the beast had only allowed her to do it begrudgingly.
“Ari,” said Jude, “wait.” Daniel’s staff was in his hands. He walked up and buckled it to Shade’s saddle, then snatched her by the collar and drilled into Ari with his strangely keen, fierce eyes. “I don’t know what you know about Caden and me…but when we meet again, I want to know all of it.”
Ari nodded and tied her hair back. Shade stepped forward, impatient to get a move on and get to Daniel.
Jude jerked the collar and scowled at Ari, looking remarkably like an eagle. “Everything, Ari. No more lies. And bring Daniel back in one piece. I want answers, and he’s got them.”
“I’ll bring your friend back,” said Ari calmly. “And when we return, we will tell you all we know. You have my word.”
Jude let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes. Ari could see that his hand was shaking. “Do us all a favor and come back alive, too. Finding another Amethyst Guardian with your abilities would be…a burden.”
Ari smiled at him. “Oh, it wouldn’t be just a burden, Jude.” She gave him a wink. “It would be impossible.”
Jude bounced his eyebrows and turned to Marcus. “We’ve got some work to do in these woods before we leave.” He released Shade. “The fire Caden started is spreading. I’ll need to create a perimeter reversing the growth of the plants to keep it contained. After that—” he reached into his cloak and took out Sweeny’s letter “—we’ve got a mission to complete. Now that Sweeny’s dead, it’s our responsibility to get this message to Oldguard.”
Marcus’ lips went taut. “Bubbs insisted I guard Ambassador Sweeny with my life—that his letter get to Oldguard no matter the cost. I failed on the first order…But I won’t fail the second. I’ll look for the horses. Hopefully they haven’t gone too far.”
“Good luck to you both.” Ari braced herself, unsure where she was headed, but ready nonetheless. “Yi-hup,” she cried, and Shade dashed forward, using the dirt road as a runway. The ride was surprisingly smooth compared to her horse. With a beat of Shade’s wings, they launched into the sky, Jude and Marcus turning into dots behind them.
“I’m trusting you, Shade,” said Ari, gazing out across the countryside. “I hope you trust me in return. Now, let’s go find Daniel.”
Shade let out a squawk and headed northwest.
Chapter 17
Swirling ribbons of rain fell from the flashing sky, transforming the once docile woods into an army of lurching trees, and turning the path Nera and her companions hiked into a treacherously slick river of mud. A blink of lightning illuminated the landscape for an instant—a steep hill lay before them, seemingly impossible to scale. There was a crash of thunder and then the world returned to black. Nera slipped beneath the weight of her supplies and landed on her knees. She stared down into the sludge, lungs burning with cold and exhaustion. Her thick yellow hair clung wet against her head; it was so cold her skin had gone
numb.
It felt so long ago that they were in the ogre’s clutches, death by consumption looming over them. Now, Nera was simply thankful she wasn’t causing the ogre indigestion. Despite losing the horses, the whole group left the monster’s cave in high spirits laden with packs and saddlebags.
But then Martha warned them of an approaching storm. Shortly after, granite-colored clouds invaded the heavens and ripped apart, drenching them with fury from on high. Nera’s gratitude vanished with each step and transformed into a soaked and frigid misery.
She dug her foot into the mud and righted herself. They had been marching for two days, and soon they would arrive at Riverton’s gates. She used the thought as fuel—a warm bed, hot food, and most of all, respite from the miserable rain that she cursed with every breath.
Riverton was a town whose streets Nera had graced many times before. Memories from her childhood rose in her mind at the mention of its name. She remembered long ago, lumbering through the air in her father’s Sky-Whale—a great, silver airship elevated by a helium balloon, pushed along by two whirring propellers. They would often stop in Riverton to trade and to visit her uncle, Barnabas. He had a Sky-Whale of his own, though not nearly as beautiful as her father’s. They would land inside Uncle Barnabas’ sprawling hangar, and her father and Barnabas would spend days tinkering with engines, tubing, and wires, reminiscing over their youths as smugglers. Or as pirates, her father liked to say.
Riverton was not on their original list of stops, but it was the nearest town and their pace was too slow to continue on foot. Not only that, but their supplies were running dangerously low. Soon, they would be stranded, left to starve in a hostile wilderness.
She wondered if her uncle still lived in the buzzing city, though with some doubt. He was a rambling sort of fellow, never tied to one place for long. Now she doubted if she had any connections to the town. They would likely have to find horses and food on their own.
This is where that extra gold from the ogre’s lair would have come in handy, she thought to herself. The idea of spending what gold they had on new horses pricked at her mind, adding to the list of worries piling inside of her. Maybe Gregory was right to want to take some of the plunder, if only for security purposes.
Jelani claimed the gold could be cursed, but Nera was skeptical. Her brothers used to tell her she’d be cursed for this and that. Waking them up in the middle of the night if she felt frightened would earn her the curse of the Jibberblit—a long-legged bird fiend that would swing you upside down by your toes the second you got out of bed. The puffy-cheeks curse—a curse that causes your cheeks to swell up and explode if you didn’t share your dinner rolls. At the time, any superstitious notion had merit, for her father truly believed in curses. He once told her that if a black cat hissed at you during the night, your soul would be trapped inside your coffin when you died.
It wasn’t until she reached Dalton Ridge that she learned none of these curses were true. The other children teased her incessantly for tossing salt over her shoulder when she spilled it on the floor, even when she explained it was to keep away bad luck. And again for holding her breath whenever they passed beneath a bridge for fear a ghost might possess her through her mouth. Very quickly, she shrugged off her father’s beliefs and adopted a no-nonsense policy when it came to any sort of irrationality. In truth, she would have been fine with taking some of the gold, but she didn’t want to challenge Jelani, especially in front of the rest of the group. It was all she could do to bite her tongue and leave that glittering pile behind. Of course, she planned to return and claim her fair share when all was said and done. Maybe she’d take Gregory with her. Part of her felt guilty for not siding with him in the moment. Had it been anyone else, she would have brushed them off, maybe even chided them for believing such nonsense. Jelani’s views didn’t bother her because he was usually so grounded, and even if she disagreed with him she could typically see his logic. But when it came to anything his mother said—from holiness to hexes—he believed it as if it was indisputable fact. It was the one mark against him, though she chose to overlook it in light of his overwhelmingly positive characteristics.
Still, she thought, things have changed so much since the Cythes’ return…Could the curses of old have returned as well?
“The town should be just over this hill,” Sir Weston called out from the front of the group. “Soon we will be astride a crackling fire, our bellies full, supplies replenished, with new horses at the ready.”
“You said that about the last hill,” Nera said, slogging forward.
“And the one before that,” Gregory chimed in from behind.
“We must stay positive, my enervated allies,” replied Sir Weston. “When faced with unpleasant circumstances beyond your control, I’ve found the only way to combat them is by maintaining a pleasant attitude.”
“Pleasant, he says,” said Nera. “I want realistic.”
“Hear, hear,” Gregory agreed.
“Might we take a rest soon?” Martha said, her voice barely audible amidst the rush of wind. “I’m so tired.” She was walking directly in front of Nera, and seemed to be having an even more difficult time keeping her balance, slipping with every few steps.
Jelani pressed past Nera over to Martha. A flash of lightning exposed his frame—he looked even larger with all the supplies he carried, twice as much as the rest of them. He reached out and took a saddlebag from Martha’s shoulder, adding it to his already heavy pack.
“Come,” he said, holding her under her arm as she wavered. “Perhaps a lightened load will make it easier.”
“But you’re already carrying so much,” Martha protested.
Jelani steadied her and walked on ahead. “I am twice your size,” he said. “I will carry twice as much.”
“Maybe take some of mine too, eh Jelani?” Gregory called after him.
Nera detected a force in the clouds directly overhead—a buildup of positive and negative energies mounting so tremendously they would soon have to neutralize. Lightning had been flashing all about them through the night, but this buildup was so close, it made her arms and legs tingle. She plugged her ears with her fingers and watched the sky for the sight she knew only she could see. It burst in slow motion, a shattered web of light glistening through the air. One of the arms locked onto a tree several yards in front of Sir Weston.
So much power, she thought as she watched the surge of energy snake its way down the thin arm of lightning. So much raw energy.
The bolt split the tree in two, shattering the night with earsplitting thunder. Everyone dropped to their knees, save Nera, who merely watched the sight she had seen a thousand times before when she was a little girl. She remembered lying in the tall, swaying grass outside her prairie home, watching as thunderheads invaded the horizon. This storm rivaled those she experienced as a child—the wild, fat drops and the brilliant show of lights.
“Warn us next time, will you?” said Gregory irritably.
Nera shook her head and continued on up the hill. “It happens too quickly. I could re-direct the bolt, I suppose. But then I wouldn’t get to watch you jump out of your skin.”
As they neared the hill’s crest, the downpour lightened into a steady rain, and then calmed to a drizzle. When they reached the top, the sky’s fury abated, turning to a gentle expanse of skidding clouds. The waxing moon shone across the valley, revealing a welcome sight. Below, the swollen Lonis River wound like a snake of glowing silver; a dark city was nestled in the crook of its body. Dots of orange firelight rippled from torches inside its walls; the rest of the city was nothing but smudges too dark for Nera to discern.
“At last,” said Sir Weston.
“I could kiss those streets,” said Gregory, lugging up beside Nera.
Now that Nera could clearly see his face, she thought he looked terribly ragged—his eyes sunken and dark, hair in flat cords on his head. I likely look no better, she thought. “Well,” she said, “we won’t get any drier stan
ding here. Let’s go, shall we?”
“Please, let’s,” Martha agreed.
It was slow going down the hill. Nera was careful with every step to plant her foot on something firm—a rock, a root, a patch of grass. But they made it to the base without incident and found a road that led to the front gate. The closer they got, the larger the city walls grew. There was no sign of life outside the sprawling iron doors, which were wide enough for two carriages to pass through. The doors were well-lit by two torches on either side. When they arrived, Nera spotted a small wicket gate with a sliding peephole built directly into the right door. For pedestrians to pass through, no doubt.
“So,” said Gregory staring up and down the iron doors. “Do we knock?”
Jelani stepped up and gave the doors three booming pounds.
Seconds ticked by until the silence grew uncomfortable. Nera fidgeted, agitated by the wait.
“Maybe they don’t open them during the night,” said Martha.
“Balderdash,” replied Sir Weston. “We have Guardians in our midst. We will not be treated like common ruffians.” He rapped on the door with his knuckles.
The slat to the wicket gate slid open, revealing a pair of frightened green eyes. “Who goes there?” hissed a man’s voice.
“I am Sir Weston, Captain of the Imperial Guard, and these young men and women are—”
The man snapped the slat shut.
Sir Weston stared at the door, stunned. The faint sound of muttering sounded from behind the gate.
The slat slid back open. “You folks will leave now if you know what’s good for you,” said the man. “Go on, before they come back!”
“Excuse me,” said Sir Weston, “but do you know to whom you are speaking? We are the—”
“Doesn’t matter who you are. Matters who you’re not. You’re not enough to help us reclaim the city from the monsters inside. Now be off and return with reinforcements before they kill us all!”