The Lost Prince

by Matt Myklusch

  “Good morning.” She smiled.

  They stood atop a flight of stone steps that led down to the water’s edge. Waverly glanced at Dean’s elbow, then up at his eyes. She was waiting for something, but what it was, Dean couldn’t guess. Verrick bent down toward his ear. “The stairs are slick with ocean spray. You may wish to offer the lady your arm.”

  Dean shot his arm out, elbowing Waverly in the side. “Sorry. Are you all right?”

  “It’s fine,” Waverly assured him. She rested her fingers on his arm, and they descended the staircase together. Verrick trailed a few steps behind them as they went. Multitudes of onlookers stood perched on the rocks that bordered the staircase on either side. They stared at Dean in awe and whispered to each other as he passed:

  “Look at him, he has no idea.”

  “Is he really going to do it? He hasn’t trained.”

  “Of course he’s going to do it, he’s the prince!”

  Dean swallowed hard as their murmurs gnawed at his ears. No one there was cheering as they had yesterday. He had never seen such a large gathering stay so quiet. He wished they would make some noise, if only to take the pressure off of him. Dean was usually content to have a quiet moment alone, but he found he abhorred silence with Waverly. He felt he should say something and that every second he let pass without a word reflected negatively on him. He wanted to talk, but when he tried to speak, every word he knew filled his mouth at once. It was all he could do to keep them from spilling out at the same time.

  “Why did you lie?” he asked Waverly. Hardly the gem he had meant to open with.

  Waverly looked at Dean as if he were something she needed to scrape off the bottom of her shoe. “Excuse me?”

  Dean kicked himself, but once the words were out there, they were out there. He leaned in toward Waverly and spoke softly so Verrick couldn’t hear. “In the throne room yesterday. You told your father you were in the palace all morning. We both know that isn’t true.”

  Waverly relaxed her frown and put on a trickster’s grin. “Yes, I suppose we do.”

  “So you were the girl I saw surfing.”

  “You know I was.”

  “Why pretend otherwise?”

  Waverly chuckled. “You have a lot to learn about palace life. My father doesn’t think surf-riding befits a lady of my station. I hope you’re not too shocked by my behavior.”

  Now it was Dean’s turn to laugh. “My lady, it would take more than the sight of you surfing to shock me.” Waverly’s hand left Dean’s arm. The look on her face brought his snickering to a halt. He was saying and doing everything wrong. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I am shocked actually, just not by you. Or at least not just by you. Everything about this place is a shock. You’re right. I’ve never had any experience with royal life. I lived my life out on the waves, far, far away from anything like this.”

  “Really.” Waverly twirled her hair with her finger. “You’ll have to tell me more about that later. Assuming you survive the trial.”

  “Yes, the trial.” Dean frowned. They had reached the bottom of the staircase. “For a moment, I nearly forgot why we came here today.”

  “This passage ends at a small sheltered bay where you and I will part ways. There’s a cave on the windward side of the island that can be accessed from the water. That’s where you’re going.”

  Dean nodded. “To face the snapdragon. Is there a reason I have to start with the most dangerous of these three trials?”

  “They’re all dangerous,” Verrick called out. He trotted down the steps to join Dean and Waverly at the bottom. “This one comes first because if you aren’t strong enough to face the snapdragon, there’s no point in wasting time with the other two trials.”

  “And if the snapdragon eats me, there’ll be no need.”

  “It’s just a small sea serpent,” Verrick said.

  “Oh, yes,” said Waverly. “It’s an absolute pussycat.”

  Dean felt like he had a jellyfish swimming in his stomach. “This isn’t some game to see if I’m brave enough to enter the cave, is it? This sea serpent … it’s a real thing?”

  Verrick nodded. “The snapdragon is very real. It’s lived on this island since the time of our ancestors.”

  “Wonderful.” Dean shook his head. “What is this trial supposed to prove other than the fact that I’m crazy enough to swim with sea serpents?”

  “It proves many things,” Verrick said. “Bravery, for one. Fighting prowess another. It proves self-restraint and mercy as well. The presence of mind required to defend yourself without killing your opponent is no small thing. The snapdragon is an ancient wonder of Zenhala. Its death would be just as tragic as that of any young lord sent to face it. Present company excluded, of course.”

  “You don’t seem too worried,” Dean said to Verrick.

  “He’s not the one going in there,” Waverly said.

  Verrick put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You just need to last three minutes in the cave. After that, the trial judge will drop a rope down through the top of the chamber. Climb to safety and you’ve passed the test. Simple as that.”

  “Right. Simple.” Dean took a few deep breaths, trying to mentally prepare himself. “All right, fine. How hard could this be? Every noble son on the island has to do it, right?”

  Waverly shook her head. “Actually, no one does this trial. Junter Ralian was the first to try since before I was born.”

  Dean squinted at Waverly. “What are you talking about?”

  “All Zenhalan nobles must pass one of the three challenges,” Verrick explained. “They get to pick their trial, but Junter had no choice. The eldest son of House Ralian always faces the snapdragon. It’s a tradition with their family. Junter trained all his life to prepare. As a king’s son, you must conquer all three challenges, but you’ve had no training. That’s why Waverly’s father, the regent, has seen fit to grant you seconds.”

  Dean snorted. “Yes, to protect me. How thoughtful of him. I still haven’t met this Junter. How did he survive his three minutes with the snapdragon?”

  “You’ll have to ask him.” Verrick guided Dean around the corner. The waterfront came into view along with more spectators. The waves were filled with people in boats, and a throng of men and women crowded the pier at the end of the staircase. Standing in front of the congregation were four people dressed in white. It was Arjent Ralian and his three sons. “There they are,” said Verrick. “Junter, Jin, and Jarret.”

  The tallest of the Ralian boys was a bulky, muscular lad. He was bigger than Ronan, with a head shaped like a square and a vacant look on his face. His short black hair was combed forward toward his forehead. The second-tallest of Lord Ralian’s sons was closer to Dean’s size. He had an athletic frame, shoulder-length hair, and a cocky, mischievous grin. The third brother was the smallest of them all, in both inches and pounds. He had a slight build with almost no meat on his bones. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail like his father’s.

  “Please tell me Junter’s the big one,” said Dean.

  Waverly nodded. “He is.”

  “He’s not the smartest of the three, but he is by far the strongest,” Verrick told Dean quietly. “You’ll be glad to have him with you.”

  Dean grunted. He wouldn’t be glad about facing the snapdragon with ten Junters by his side.

  The contingent of guards entered the crowd and cleared the way to a wooden deck where Waverly and Verrick could watch Dean’s trial. Two guards remained on the path to take Dean the rest of the way. Dean deposited Waverly on the steps of the viewing platform and rejoined his military escort. “Wish me luck,” he said.

  Waverly looked sad. She paused at the base of the steps and spoke in a voice that was just above a whisper. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  “Your father said I did.”

  “He said you had to if you want to win the crown and marry me.”

  “Is there another option?”

  Waverly loo
ked at Dean with genuine concern in her big green eyes. “There’d be no shame in walking away. Whatever you might think, you’re not ready for this. You can’t be. I’d hate to see anything bad happen to you.”

  Dean took a step back. He wondered if Waverly was trying to warn him about something other than the trial. Did she know her father tried to have him killed a few hours ago? Maybe she was trying to save his life by getting him to abandon his royal aspirations. Then again, maybe she just didn’t want to marry him. Getting him to quit was the easiest way to break off the engagement, short of his death. If that was her worry, she had nothing to fear whether he lived or died. A royal wedding was the only scenario less likely than his quitting this job halfway through. “I’m touched by your concern, Lady Kray, but I have to do this. I’ve never been one to show my stern to a challenge. If I turned my back on this one, I’d regret it for the rest of my days. More than you can ever imagine.”

  Waverly smiled at Dean. He let her take his words as a compliment. She didn’t realize what he really meant. What he was truly after.

  “You’re very brave,” she told him.

  Dean smiled. “It’s been nice talking with you. I enjoyed this.”

  “Good luck, Dean Seaborne.”

  Dean threw a wink at Waverly as he took leave of her. “Thanks.”

  I’m going to need it.

  CHAPTER 18

  SNAPDRAGON GROTTO

  Junter Ralian shook Dean’s hand with a mumbled grunt when they were introduced. He had a firm grip that all but crushed Dean’s hand, but he didn’t say sorry. That word didn’t appear to be in his vocabulary. Dean suspected the same was true of many other words as well. One look at Junter told Dean he was a fighter, not a thinker. He said nothing as the trial judge, an ancient little man with a thin, stringy beard, went over the rules of the challenge one more time. He didn’t say much more as they rowed out to the snapdragon’s den in a small two-man boat.

  The one positive about the situation that Dean could figure was that half the kingdom had turned out to see him take on his first trial. Just as he had hoped, that would make it easier for Ronan and Rook to search for the golden orchard. With any luck, he’d live long enough to see how they fared. As he and Junter skirted the coast of the island, Dean was left to ponder the nature of the beast in silence. Junter offered neither advice nor reassurances. His expression was blank as he pulled back on the oars, effortlessly rowing the boat all by himself. He didn’t look the least bit scared, but Dean supposed he had reason to be confident. Junter was the biggest young man he had ever seen. If Dean didn’t know any better, he would have sworn the oldest Ralian boy was a full-grown adult.

  “How old are you?” Dean asked him.

  Junter reset the oars and heaved against the waves. “Seventeen.”

  Seventeen, Dean thought. Almost a man. Junter was two years older than Ronan, but three times his size. “And you’ve done this before?”

  “I have.”

  Dean waited a moment for Junter to elaborate, but he never did. He left it at that, answering the question exactly as it was asked, offering up nothing more. Dean stared at him from across the boat. “Well? If you’ve got any suggestions for dealing with the snapdragon, don’t be shy about it. Let’s hear them.”

  Junter gave an uninterested shrug and grunted as he worked. “Stay away from its mouth. Don’t die.”

  Dean’s appreciation for his muscle-bound partner was waning fast. “That’s very helpful, Junter. Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.”

  Oblivious to Dean’s sarcasm, Junter gave an ignorant, happy smile as they crossed over to Zenhala’s windward side. The elements were harsher in that section of the island, and the shift in weather conditions was immediate. The sky turned overcast, a light rain fell, and the sea grew rougher. Dean scanned the countryside for a glimpse of the orchard, but saw nothing. Vegetation was sparse, and there was no jungle or beach. Just the foot of Zenhala’s largest mountain terminating in steep cliffs and rocky crags. Jagged, spiky outcroppings rose up from the sea like spikes, blockading the island from large ships. Dean and Junter’s tiny boat wove its way between the natural stone barricades until they reached a tiny crack in the island’s rock face. It was as if a stone shard had been removed from the mountain, just big enough to grant them passage, but only if the ocean cooperated. The water was choppy. Waves broke hard against the cavern’s exterior, hiding the opening, then revealing it again. There wasn’t much room to pass through. If the tide had been a foot higher, the door to the cave would have been completely submerged. As it was, they could barely hope to fit. The prow of the ship hit hard against the top of the entrance as the waves knocked the boat around inside the stone gap.

  Junter looked at Dean. “Ready?”

  Dean held tight to the sides of the boat. “Why wouldn’t I be? You’ve prepared me expertly.”

  Junter ignored the comment. “Lie down,” he said as the whitecaps rocked them back and forth. There was a rope anchored to a steel eyelet above the narrow crevice. He grabbed hold of it, and timed the ship’s rise and fall with the waves. Junter pulled hard on the rope when the tide was on a downswing, and dropped to his back as the current shot them into the snapdragon’s den.

  Dean held his breath as they slid through a short tunnel, racing from darkness into light. Once they entered the cave, Dean had to rub his eyes and look again to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. The water in the Snapdragon Grotto was calm and glowed with supernatural luminescence. The entire cave was flooded with brilliant blue light. Dean’s mouth fell open as he marveled at the hidden wonder. The cavern was a wide basin thirty feet across, with a dome-shaped roof thirty feet high. The waves had carved it into the mountain over thousands of years, using vivid, glimmering water that simply had to be enchanted. Its fluorescent radiance put sparkling blue sapphires to shame, and made the water outside seem unclean by comparison. Dean cupped his hand and let the water run through his fingers.

  “What is this? Magic?”

  Junter rowed up to the wall of the cave. There was a stone ledge on one side of the basin that was big enough to stand on. He climbed out of the boat and cleared his nostrils with a mighty blow, emptying the contents of his nose into the water in a way that made Dean think of Scurvy Gill.

  “What?” he asked Dean, as if he had just done the most civilized thing in the world.

  “Nothing. You just remind me of someone is all.”

  Junter wiped his nose with his sleeve. “It’s not magic. The water out there’s the same as the water in here. It’s just the sunlight reflecting through the sea.”

  Dean looked around. “Reflected from where? The cave’s completely closed off.”

  Junter pointed back at the opening they had just come in through. “Right there.” Dean joined Junter on the ledge and looked over at the blinding white light beyond the break in the wall. He didn’t see how it could have caused the glimmering effect inside the cave. “There’s another opening too, somewhere else in here,” Junter continued. “Somewhere below the waterline, or so the scholars say. You’d have to go swimming to find it, which I don’t recommend.”

  Junter kicked the boat into the center of the pool and took a pack off his back. He reached inside the bag and took out a long heavy chain, all bunched up together. He loosened his grip on the links, and an iron ball the size of a grapefruit hit the stone floor with a heavy clang. He tossed Dean the bag. “You’ll want to arm yourself.” Dean took the bag with pleasure, but he was less than thrilled by what he found inside. He pulled out a net and two wooden sticks strung together with black rope.

  “What’s this supposed to be?”

  “That’s something the traders brought back from the Far East, years ago. My father’s weapons master called them nunchakus.” Dean gave the sticks a try and spun the nunchakus around. He nearly clocked himself in the head. “What am I supposed to do with this? Why isn’t there a cutlass or another one of those?”

  Junter held up his ball and c
hain. “You ever use one of these?”

  “Let me guess, you swing it around and hit things on the head. Seems simple enough to me.”

  Junter shook his head. “A weapon like this needs a practiced hand. The snapdragon is a Zenhalan treasure. It’s hundreds of years old. If you kill it, you fail.”

  “What if it kills me? What then?”

  “That’s what I’m here for.”

  “What’s that?”

  Junter busied himself checking the links on his weapon. “To make sure it doesn’t.”

  Dean sized up his dim-witted partner, feeling a little uneasy. He hadn’t met the other Ralian brothers yet, but it was clear that Verrick had been right about Junter not being the smart one. “Let’s hope you’re a better fighter than you are a conversationalist.”

  “What’d you call me?”

  There was a noise at the top of the cave, and Dean looked up to see a hatch being pulled open. “Never mind.”

  Light poured in from above, causing the water’s mystic blue color to fade. Dean shielded his eyes and saw the trial judge poke his head in. “Sons of Zenhala, I salute you!” he called out. “Your bravery is unmatched just for setting foot in this cave. Should you emerge unharmed, your noble hearts will be proven beyond contestation. This is your last chance to turn back. Shall we proceed?”

  Junter spit on the ground and rattled his chain. “Get on with it, old man.”

  Dean was surprised at Junter’s lack of respect for his elders. He looked at his own pathetic weapons. He was as ready as he could hope to be. “Aye, sir. Proceed.”

  The trial judge nodded and withdrew. Through the opening at the roof of the cave, Dean watched him stand and raise a conch shell to his lips. Its booming call was loud enough to wake the dead, and Dean knew it would soon bring the snapdragon. He held tight to his weapons, despite his lack of faith in them. The trial judge disappeared from sight as the rooftop hatch was moved back into place, and Dean took a breath. Three minutes, starting now.