by Simon Archer
“You lying son of a bitch!” I shouted at him, the light pulsing in time with each of my words.
“Why this time?” Hennar asked, unphased by my temper.
“You swore that no one else would be corrupted until after the first snowfall,” I continued, my voice still high and loud. “I don’t know where you’re camped out right now, but there’s no snow in Insomier.”
“And I have kept that promise,” Hennar insisted.
I gestured out, accidentally sending a couple of raindrops of light out into the whitespace. “Obviously not if we’re here right now.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Martin,” Hennar said with a slight frown. “I have not permitted any further corruption of Insomier since we made our bargain.”
“Since we made our bargain…” I repeated his words slowly, lowering my voice for the first time since arriving. I let my gaze shift back and forth as my mind zipped through the timeline.
If Hennar told the truth, not that I had any reason to believe that he did, then Diana would have had to have been infected before our agreement.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said aloud, not really to Hennar. “She would have told me.”
“Are you talking about your guard friend?” Hennar asked, taking a curious step forward. “Because if so, that was not my doing. At least not directly.”
“How do you know what I’m talking about?” I questioned, everything coming out sharper than intended.
“She visited me,” Hennar said, in an oddly giddy manner. “This is not the first time she was on the brink of death, but your horde of dragons pulled her out of it and bought her some time.”
“My dragons did what?” The question burst from me, not thinking about the consequences. The shock and the betrayal of this whole situation were too great. It crawled on my skin like a colony of ants, making me tense and uncomfortable.
“They did not tell you,” Hennar commented. He made a little noise in the back of his throat. “Hm, interesting. Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now. Would you like to play me for her life?”
I clenched my fingers into fists and pinched my fingernails into my palms. I let the anger flow freely. My friend had lied to me. My clan had covered up her disease. I had to find out about it all through this mongrel. At the heart of it all, this tyrant continued to corrupt those I cared for.
“No,” I said, surprising both myself and the false king standing before me.
He put a hand to his heart as if he were affronted by my declaration. “No? Why, you understand that if you do not play, she will die.”
“No,” I repeated with more ferocity.
“That is not how this works.” Hennar wagged a finger at me like I was a naughty child. He clicked his tongue in time with it. “You know the rules. We have to play, and then, maybe, just maybe, your precious guard will live.”
“Not this time.” I released my fingers out, straightening them, and letting the live wire of light pulse out from me. “This time, you crossed a line.”
“I told you,” Hennar protested, “I did nothing of the sort. Don’t do something you will regret, Martin.”
“If Diana dies, you will be the one who regrets it,” I said, not wasting another second. I raised my arms, palms flat and facing Hennar. I blasted him with the largest and thickest stream of light I ever created.
The false king, surprised, tumbled backward and fell to the ground. Despite his weakened state, I didn’t relent. If anything, I pushed harder. My anger transformed into a rage, and the light responded by brightening to a blinding state. A waterfall-like effect poured down from my hands, and I walked forward, increasing the pressure on Hennar.
He managed to get up a thin black barrier, a reprieve from the onslaught of my light. I heard him cough and sputter from behind his shield, and it spurred me forward. It triggered the sounds of Millie-May’s cough or young Miji’s hacking that kept his mother awake at night in my mind. I stopped the stream for barely a second before I wrapped my arms up and around in a windmill motion. The light protruded from my hands like a whip of lightning and slammed down on Hennar’s shield.
The blackness cracked with a thundering noise. Satisfied by the effect of my light, I raised my arms to do it again. However, on the upward swing of this rotation, my shoulders ached. My forearms twitched uncomfortably, and the whole maneuver was a struggle, like trying to lift one hundred pounds. Still, I managed to push through and throw down another threatening blow to Hennar and his darkness.
Beneath the tumultuous crack that rippled through the white voice, I heard a voice. It came from a far-away place and crackled like an unstable radio signal.
I ignored the change and wound up again, preparing for another strike. This time, I couldn’t get my arms over my head. The weight had grown insurmountable, and the exhaustion plaguing my body stopped me from moving any farther. My rage retaliated, claiming that tiredness was unacceptable. This man had to pay for his actions and for the lives he took without regret.
I searched inside myself for the extra strength to lift this whip of light and break his shield into a thousand pieces. I wanted to see the blackness scatter into the white like a broken mirror.
Deep within, I called to the light, but it was like shouting into a vast cavern. When I called louder, letting my rage speak for me, five additional strands of light appeared. They seemed knotted together and glowed a murkier yellow than the normal, startling white.
At that point, I didn’t care what light there was, what strength I had left, but I needed it right then. Desperation fueled my actions as I yanked at the remaining light.
In time with my tug, the far-away voice returned. It was louder this time but still as incoherent. I proceeded to pull at the five strands, which fueled my arms with enough power to raise them over my head and lay an earth-shattering blow to Hennar’s shield.
The blackness broke with the eruption rivaling a volcano. The false king huddled on the ground with his hands over his head. His limbs shook as he tried to summon more darkness, but instead, he fizzled and flicked like a lighter out of lighter fluid.
I sauntered towards Hennar, a train of light trailing in my wake. Watching him cower beneath me filled my chest with satisfaction. He was mine for the taking, and I knew that if I could raise my arms up for one more striking blow, it would be the final one. The one to end this monster once and for all.
But as I walked forward, I could barely keep my balance. The white space tilted unsettlingly, like a boat about to capsize. My limbs felt like lead, and each jolt appeared to be filled with concrete. My lungs gulped for air, and my heart pounded in my ears with a deafening sound.
Still, I ventured on. I strained to reach further, to make one last plea to the light. Those five strands responded in kind, slithering up to meet me. I held on and tugged to bring them to the surface.
However, the voice that had been fighting to get through my rage spoke. Now I could actually make out a word in the underwater jumble.
“Stop,” it chorused. “Martin. Stop.”
As if my actions were not my own, I stopped. All of my muscles froze in place, and I couldn’t move. I jilted my shoulders but found that even they would not respond to me. My eyes stopped blinking, and my breathing evened out.
Hennar peeked out from behind his hands and gazed at me in horror. Then, when he noticed that I couldn’t move closer to him, the false king’s eyes lit up in surprise and then relief
“You should have done it,” Hennar spat through blood-soaked lips. “No matter the cost, you should have done it. It might even have worked, Martin. I mean, it’s definitely unlikely, but you never know. You might have gotten lucky.”
With a final racking cough, the false king wrapped a cloud of darkness around him and disappeared. Still unable to move, I could only witness the white space dissolve around me. It melted away to reveal, not the dining hall, as I expected, but the familiar lavender landscape. It was in this violet-tinted world where I had a
ll of my conversations with Maximus before I realized he was a real being.
We were in a lavender version of the gardens. I tried to shift my eyes about it, but they were stuck inside my head as if they were glued to this one location. I heard a rustling behind me and fear of the unknown shot down my spine. It choked me with rapid breaths and a speedy heartbeat.
The noise got louder as several thundering footsteps approached. It crept up behind me, and I wanted more than anything to close my eyes so I would not have to face my attacker head-on.
Instead, a burst of navy blue intruded my vision. It stepped more into my line of sight and formed into a sleek, massive beast. Her sharp midnight-colored eyes locked onto me, and she shook her head in clear disappointment.
“You foolish, foolish boy,” Jin said. “You’re lucky you aren’t dead.”
Then, the dragon pursed her lips and blew cold air directly onto my body. Goosebumps erupted like a mosaic, and the gust melted away the spell that froze my body. The minute my limbs had their movement back, they collapsed beneath me, and I fell to my knees. My head soon tumbled after it, with no more energy to keep anything upright.
38
When I woke up, I was still in the timeless, lavender-tinted gardens. Jin nestled under a tree and looked at me skeptically. I refused to say anything to her while still laying face down on the ground like I was. It was a helpless position, and I needed to get up to give that dragon a piece of my mind.
I snuck my arms beneath my chest, intending to use them to hoist me up, but it was like they were made of jelly. With that little smidge of movement, my body rippled with pain. I was stiff and disjointed.
I let my forehead fall to the grass and groaned. Still determined, I adjusted my goal and thought about just rolling onto my back. With some internal coaching, I counted to three and then maneuvered myself over. With each inch of movement, the pain ricocheted from bone to bone. I released another satisfying groan, though it did nothing to alleviate any of the pounding in my body.
My gaze now consisted of the pale purple sky. Some lazy clouds wafted overhead, only a darker variant than their background. They traveled along without a care in the world, and I found myself envying their freedom. I thought that coming to Insomier would award me that freedom, but instead, all it had gotten me was a lot of pain. Lots of pain.
Especially right now. The sensations flowing through my body didn’t so much flow as they did stop and start like fifteen-year-old learning how to drive for the first time. They skidded and slid ungracefully, bumping into muscles I couldn’t remember having. The whole experience was worse than any of my training sessions with Diana or Rebekah.
My mind instantly flashed images of Diana’s limp body, radiating a fever. I went to lift my head with urgency, but the pain slammed into the back of my neck and forced it back down. I tried to cry out her name, but it came out like a squawk.
Suddenly, the navy blue dragon’s head popped into my line of sight, blocking most of the migrating clouds. She tilted it this way and that, seeming to assess something.
“You will live,” she concluded.
“Thanks,” I wheezed.
“Can you get up?” Jin asked.
“Not really,” I admitted wearily.
“Good,” Jin said affirmatively. “It will be easier to talk to you if you cannot storm off.”
I sighed, which only gave me a moment’s reprieve from the injuries. “What do you want to talk about?”
“What happened in there with Hennar?” Jin wondered. Her tone was so light, like asking how my day was. It surprised me and threw me off guard for a second.
“What do you mean?” I asked, but I really wanted to know why she was being so considerate to me. The last time we’d spoken, I was sure she would never look my way again. I was pretty sure I was dead to her.
“I need to see if you know what you did back there,” Jin explained, albeit vaguely. “Or were about to do.”
“I was going to kill him,” I replied honestly.
I thought back to the moment when he cowered below me, and I wanted nothing more than to end this whole endeavor. I wanted to be done with the corruption, the entire saving the kingdom, so I could just ride away on my dragon and be done with it all. I wanted to see him break in two so I could avenge all those he’d hurt and killed.
When Jin didn’t respond right away, I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “What? Do you have a moral dilemma with that all of a sudden?”
“No,” Jin responded plainly. “I have no problem with a dead Hennar. In fact, I would prefer him that way. I want to know what happened to you in there.”
I licked my lips, stalling. I wasn’t sure what answer she was looking for from me, but it was obviously something very specific.
“Beats me,” I said.
Jin groaned and rolled her own eyes. She disappeared from my limited view and muttered, “You are impossible.”
“Hey,” I called out, willing her to come back. When she didn’t, I tried once more. “Hey, Jin!”
I realized that whatever I had said was the completely wrong thing. My experience in the lavender light told me that I wasn’t getting out of here until the dragon that brought me here told me what they needed to tell me. Maximus always had some wisdom or insight or an important message to give. Apparently, Jin was trying to do the same thing. I owed it to her to try to listen.
“Okay, hang out,” I called back out into the void, hoping she could hear me.
Then I closed my eyes and counted my way through simple movements. Each time I reached five, I managed to move a limb or thrust a muscle forward. Eventually, I made my way to a sitting position, though my legs remained outstretched.
Jin was back by her tree. I looked over my shoulder at her and made the final effort to swing my body around so I could face her. A loud moan escaped my lips as I did so. The dragon did nothing as I struggled except watch. I might have been imagining it, but I could have sworn I saw a smirk on the corner of her lips as if she enjoyed my misery.
“I’m sorry,” I admitted. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at. All I know about what happened there with Hennar is that I didn’t want to play him in chess, and I was just so angry at all of his antics and sick of all the people getting sick that I just… I don’t know, I just erupted.”
I clutched at the grass, uncomfortable with this admission to Jin. I knew she was going to use it against me. Call me ungrateful or some other insult that would strike right at my heart.
“I managed to catch him off guard, and I was breaking him down, I knew I was,” I said, remembering as I spoke. “But each blow just got harder and harder until I reached the final strike. I had him in one.” I held up one finger to emphasize my point. “Just one more blow. So I called to the light and went to strike, even though I was so exhausted, but suddenly everything stopped. I couldn’t move.”
“You did not hear my warnings, then?” Jin asked with a narrow gaze. “Or you chose to ignore them?”
“That was you?” I asked, recalling the static-filled voice.
“Yes,” Jin replied without more of a hint than that.
“Why?” I wondered, trying to keep the conversation going.
“Because you didn’t know what you were doing,” Jin replied harshly. The dragon rose to her feet and stepped closer to me, each step rattling the ground beneath us.
“I knew that I almost had him,” I retorted, that familiar anger rising up again. “He even told me so before he disappeared.”
“No,” Jin said strictly like a teacher disciplining a student. “The cost would have been too great.”
“I’m ready to pay anything to get rid of this guy,” I said harshly and unthinkingly.
“Do you know it wasn’t light you were channeling there at the end?” Jin said, changing the subject so abruptly, my mind spun just trying to keep up with her.
“Yes, it was,” I argued. “It glowed like the light, it responded like the light.”
“Did it?”
Jin asked, already knowing the answer.
I thought back to the five strands that tangled together. Come to think of it, the light was always willing to come when I called, but these strings hesitated. They resisted me at first. Also, they were not the same color. I remembered a more yellowish hue than the white. The shock of this realization made me pause.
“What were they?” I looked at the dragon, my voice worried.
“Your bonds,” Jin said softly.
“My bonds? Like to the clan?” My jaw dropped open. “Oh shit.”
“That is the appropriate reaction,” Jin said with a half-smirk. “You nearly broke your bond to gather enough power to defeat Hennar. You were about to sacrifice those sacred promises in order to obliterate an enemy. Granted, he is our worst enemy, but even if it had worked, it would have killed you and those you were bonded with. Do you think that’s what anyone would want?” She sighed. “Even I do not wish you dead, even if it meant Hennar would also be dead.”
“Can that happen?” I asked, my voice minimizing to a quiver. “Breaking a bond, I mean?”
“It is rare, but it is possible,” Jin explained. “There are items that can do it, for one, but usually it is in extreme cases when one side asks too much of the other. The relationship is strained and can snap.”
“Oh, my God.” I held up a hand to my mouth.
“Once broken like that, the temporary gain in power is strong but short-lived,” Jin proceeded. “It usually destroys the creature, and the human involved.”
“I had no idea.” I breathed.
“That is why I am telling you now,” the dragon said with a shrug. “Though you probably should have known that already. I should have told you, but alas…”
“And that’s why you stopped me,” I said, the realization hitting me as I spoke. “You were able to prevent me from moving physically. How?”
Jin shifted her neck so that her snout nearly touched the ground. She looked as if she were sniffing flowers, but no flora was to be found in this section of the garden. For once, the snarky dragon was stalling.