“Maybe it could use some oil,” Tarness offered helpfully. “Where to next?”
Angst sighed. “Well, now that you’re all feeling better, it’s best for you to go back to Unsel and warn everyone of what’s going on out here.” He reached out to pat the side of his swifen.
“What about you?” asked Rose, her voice raised an octave or three.
Angst avoided looking at her. “I have something to do. I’m sure I’ll be right behind you.”
“You aren’t a good liar, Angst. Not to me.” Rose stood right in front of Angst, making it hard for him to look away. “What are you going to do?”
“You don’t understand,” Angst said loudly, still avoiding her eyes. “You have to go!”
“You’re right, I don’t understand.” She stepped inside the circle of personal space most people allowed. “Why don’t you explain it to me? To us?”
“I can’t,” he replied, finally looking at her.
“You can’t what?” Rose asked unrelentingly.
“I...” Angst took a deep breath, fighting back the emotion that suddenly choked his throat. “I can’t keep you safe. Any of you. You don’t have one of these stupid things to protect you,” he thumbed roughly at Chryslaenor over his shoulder, “and I’m not good enough with it.” In spite of his efforts at control, he was now yelling at his friends. “You may not remember the last few days, but I do. I can’t...” There was a catch in his breath, and he stared into Rose’s large brown eyes. “I saw you die, Rose. That can’t happen again. I couldn’t live with myself...”
She inched forward and cautiously held him for a moment. Dallow, Tarness, and Hector all moved closer as well. Angst sniffed and stared at the ground while stepping back from Rose. “Quite the hero, huh?”
“You’re doing fine.” Dallow patted him on the shoulder. “We’re all with you, Angst, whether you like it or not. So where to next?”
Angst wiped his eyes and nose, embarrassed at his outburst. The silence around them was overwhelming, and he finally nodded. “It looked to me like we need to go to the capital of Fulk’han,” he said, seeking acknowledgement from Aerella.
She nodded in agreement while summoning her swifen, a majestic-looking white tiger made of flower petals.
“Unless these swifen are incredibly fast, we’ve got a long trip ahead of us,” Hector said with a smile. “Shouldn’t we get going?”
37
The forest floor shook violently as he stepped forward. The ground gave way under his foot, though he couldn’t truly recognize it as his own. He didn’t like looking at his feet, or his hands, and the only reason he’d even consider glancing at his reflection was morbid curiosity about how much he’d changed. In spite of everything, he’d never felt this good in his entire life.
He heard a scream, and stopped to look down. A lone woman on the highway had dropped to her knees at the sight of him. He was always surprised at how much smaller they seemed since the change. Ivan leaned forward to hold her still and noticed his hand was almost large enough to wrap around her waist. He wondered, for a moment, if he was still growing. This thought soon passed as he studied her. Ivan savored the way she groveled and shook with fear, almost appearing to be worshiping him. It felt right, yet there was something missing. She was frumpy, her clothes were disheveled, and her short red hair unkempt from work and travel. The woman was older than he liked and puffy with weight. Ivan didn’t want her to look this way, so he would change her just like he’d changed.
Ivan concentrated. Her hair became a brighter red and poured from her head to lengthen past her waist. This made her look up in surprise, and she squeaked out small whimpering sounds. The hair attached itself to her back along the spine, like a horse’s mane. She shuddered in pain, but only started screaming when a long tail grew from the base of her spine. He chuckled to himself as her cry of anguish reached him. The woman fell to her side, rolling and roiling on the ground as her skin color changed from pale blush to light yellow then orange and pink before finally settling on a deep shade of purple.
Now on her stomach, the woman tried crawling away. He gripped the end of her new tail between two fingers and yanked. Flipping onto her back the woman kicked away while trying to pull her new tail free. She opened her mouth to scream and a long snakish tongue shot out. With both hands she pushed the tongue back in and kept her mouth covered. Her eyes widened in horror, and continued widening until they were unnaturally large for her face. Then she screamed once more as her body began to reform. Bones crunched and muscles tore loudly as Ivan adjusted her shape to his liking.
He was almost finished, she was just about perfect, when a flock of small birds darted past his face, distracting him. Ivan swung his monstrous arm to wave them off, and a black cloud filled with sparkling lights, like stars in the night sky, trailed behind his hand to engulf the departing birds. When Ivan finally returned his attention to the woman, it was too late. He’d stopped her metamorphosis before finishing, and now she lay still on the ground with blood pouring from her mouth.
Ivan admired his latest creation, but there was still more that could be done. Larger breasts, thinner waist, and maybe the next one he changed could be a bit taller. They should also live; they would all be so much more fun alive. He kicked her aside like discarded trash and continued down the long road to find another one. He was only a day away from the Fulk’han capital, and wanted to have everything just right by the time he got there.
Tyrell’s lungs rattled painfully as he huffed for breath. He gripped his chest and quickened his pace as he approached the main hallway to the throne room. Just as he began to turn the corner, a hand around his mouth pulled him back. The hand was as gentle as it could be under the circumstances, and smelled clean. It was only that, and decades of training, that kept Tyrell from defending himself and gutting Rook. Which was fortunate because in the time it took Rook to say “shhh,” Tyrell could’ve killed him. Twice.
Tyrell glared at Rook and pulled the other man’s beefy hand away. He was about to warn Rook never to do that, ever again, but the man was pointing to the adjoining hallway. Tyrell followed Rook’s finger and peered around the corner to see a tall, lanky man facing away from them. Aereon. Tyrell reached for the sword at his belt, ready to dismiss this “advisor” from the kingdom permanently. Rook grabbed Tyrell’s hand to stop him, shaking his head. He pointed once again at Aereon and the hallway.
Tyrell reluctantly turned to watch. Aereon’s arms flailed about more wildly than usual while his torso stayed perfectly still. Tyrell wanted to slap the man for looking so foolish. The flailing continued for several minutes, accompanied by clicks and whistles. Then the odd movements suddenly stopped, and Aereon knelt into a deep bow.
Behind Aereon’s bowed head, a short, husky shadow turned to look around with quick jerky movements. Something about it was disturbingly familiar. Aereon didn’t budge as the shadowy form took flight and zoomed down the hall, past the corner where Rook and Tyrell hid. In the light from their adjoining hallway, Tyrell caught a glimpse of purple feathers and a silvery steel beak.
Rook nodded in acknowledgement when Tyrell turned to look at him in surprise. Rook jerked his head in the direction of a nearby room, the Captain Guard nodded and followed.
“Good timing, sir,” Rook said after closing the door behind him. “It’s good to see you up and about.”
“You can thank Princess Victoria for that,” Tyrell said between short breaths. “I think we have a queen in that one,” he said in response to Rook’s questioning look.
Rook smiled at this, and then frowned. “No disrespect meant, sir, but you look terrible.”
“That would be exactly how I feel,” Tyrell sank down on a nearby plush chair and gripped his chest. They were in a lavish sitting room, where important guests often waited to visit the queen in her throne room. Elaborate tapestries adorned the walls and kept the room very quiet.
“Was that it? Was that the creature that attacked the queen?” Rook asked Tyre
ll, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder.
Tyrell nodded, feeling a bit better after sitting. “I hope so.”
“I don’t understand,” Rook said, cocking his head to one side. “What do you mean you hope so?”
“I truly hope there’s only one of those things,” Tyrell said, sitting up straight. “What were you doing, Rook? How did you happen to be here?”
Rook smirked mischievously. “I don’t trust him, Captain.” When Tyrell nodded in agreement, he continued. “I don’t like how he entertains the queen, I don’t like how he leers at the princess, and I don’t like how he speaks to us.” He pointed a finger up and made a circle, ‘us’ meant everyone who worked at the castle. “So I’ve been following him, or it, or whatever he is.”
“What do you mean, it?” Tyrell pressed.
“Well, sir, no disrespect to Angst and his friends, but Aereon seems to be like the magic wielders, yet even more bizarre,” Rook’s voice trailed off as he looked at the closed door. He remained quiet as footsteps passed by outside the room and continued down the hallway. “I think there may be magics here.”
“Magic...or something,” Tyrell agreed. “So what makes you think this?”
“People do crazy things when he’s around. I think he tried to make me do something.” Rook pulled back his helm and scratched at his light, curly hair before replacing it. “I smelled...well, I smelled something that made me want to leave the room we were in, that made me want to leave everything, but I was able to shake it off.” Rook appeared to struggle with the memory.
Tyrell gave him a moment then asked, “So you think it’s magic?”
“I don’t know,” Rook replied sincerely. “I’ve seen Angst move rocks and Hector flip around crazily while fighting five men at once, and I know those things are magic. Something about this just feels different, sir. I’m sorry, but that’s my gut,” Rook said carefully, as though it were inappropriate to mention these concerns to Tyrell without providing some sort of proof.
Tyrell nodded and smiled. Everything was beginning to make sense, but he needed someone else to come to the same conclusions. “I believe your gut could be correct, but don’t stop there. What else has happened? Who could fight this?”
Rook’s brow furrowed contemplatively, and he spoke slowly, as though putting the pieces together. “Angst was the only one that could fight the gamlin, I was told because he could do magic. Almost everyone he’s traveling with can do magic, and they were sent to find what’s been causing all of this.”
“Go on,” Tyrell encouraged.
“So magic wielders would be the only ones able to defend us.” Rooks eyes grew wide. “And the magic wielders are all in the dungeon!”
“If we live through this, Rook, I’ll see you promoted,” Tyrell commended.
“Thank you, sir,” Rook said proudly, straightening and clicking his heels together. “What do we do next?”
Tyrell stood, trying his best to control his breathing. “I believe it’s time to remove Mr. Aereon from the castle.”
“Then let’s take him out!” Rook said enthusiastically.
“I’ll take care of him. I actually have something else for you to do,” Tyrell said with some concern. “But I can’t command you to do this. There are risks.”
Rook didn’t falter. “Anything for Unsel,” he answered.
One of the large throne room doors opened slowly, and Tyrell entered. His hands were behind his back as he casually made his way to the queen. Aereon sat at the edge of the king’s throne, and looked up at his approach. He frowned and stopped waving his arms long enough to scratch his head in confusion.
Tyrell scanned the room and saw four guards on each side, standing at attention near the marble pillars. The queen looked away from Aereon to flash Tyrell a brief smile but immediately returned her attention to Aereon. Despite her distraction, Tyrell bowed upon approach.
“Why, Tyrell, I’m surprised to see you up and about. I thought you were on your deathbed,” Aereon said as Tyrell straightened. “How are you feeling?”
“Like this.” In one fluid movement, he pulled out his sword and buried it deep in Aereon’s chest.
Aereon grabbed at the sword, his eyes large with surprise, but Tyrell held it in place.
The queen screamed and covered her glass eye with one hand. “Tyrell, what are you doing? Guards, stop him!”
“No! Guards, stand down!” Princess Victoria commanded from the doorway.
The guards stopped moving, confused by the conflicting orders. Victoria walked toward them with confidence, surrounded by an aura of determination.
“Tyrell,” she said in a firm voice. “Finish him!”
38
The swifen were fast. Unbelievably so. What should have taken two weeks had taken two days, and they were now a half day from the Fulk’han capital. The nerve-wracking speed at which the creatures traveled made everyone clench their eyes shut and hang on for dear life. The swifen didn’t appear to mind the rough terrain as they dodged trees and animals and casually leaped over the trenches and chasms carved by the Vex’kvette. Hector reveled in this new form of chaos, but only Aerella seemed capable of simultaneously riding, talking, and not panicking.
The trip left Angst weary and shivering. He sat on a large stone jutting out from a wet grassy hillside near the highway. Angst pulled the edges of the traveling cloak Tori had given him in an attempt to fend off the damp fall morning. He hadn’t used the cloak much, as it was made for much colder weather, and everyone had rolled their eyes at him when he tried to put it on, and it smelled like strawberries. At the moment, though, he didn’t care. Wrapping himself inside felt like a comforting hug, and the scent of Tori’s perfume reminded him of home.
Rose stood next to him on the stone and scoffed the sight of the cloak. “Comfy?” she asked as she squinted and braced herself against a cold fall wind.
“Quite. I’m certainly not shivery like you are.” Angst lifted the cloak to make room for her. “Come on in. There’s room for three.”
“Three?” Rose asked, and Scar popped his head out from underneath Angst’s other arm, startling a laugh out of her. She hesitated, looking warily at the offered closeness until her teeth started chattering. “Fine,” she said and huddled next to Angst, wrapping half the cloak around her.
He turned away to hide a brief smile at her apparent sacrifice. “You know, I would be the last one to complain about your travel clothes,” Angst said, nodding at her tight leather breaches and bodice, “but those aren’t exactly ideal for this weather.”
“You know I don’t have anything else to wear,” she replied with narrowed eyes.
“You’re welcome to use this.” Angst tugged on the cloak around their shoulders. “But I may ask you to share when we stop since that seems to be when I get cold.”
“Wouldn’t your princess girlfriend get upset?” she asked tartly. Scar had moved around Angst to nestle between them so they would both have to pet him at the same time.
“Oh, probably,” Angst said with a smirk.
“Then I would love to borrow it,” Rose replied with a broad grin.
Angst let out a bark of laughter. He looked into her dark eyes for a brief moment before turning his attention to Scar.
“Things have been really odd since Gressmore. Usually you’re gawking at me, and now you can’t make eye contact,” Rose observed. “Why is that?”
“Aerella said it wasn’t a good idea to share the details. She said that everyone’s memories should come back on their own.” He paused. “But, it really bothered me to watch you die.”
She nodded slowly, waiting for Angst to look at her again. “I guess now you know how I feel when you die.”
Angst bobbed his head back and forth, both absorbing and accepting the statement, but saying nothing.
“Your newest girlfriend seems obsessed with the whole bonding-Al’eyrn thing. That and she kept asking me about what I could do with magic. I didn’t tell her.”
&nbs
p; “She means well,” Angst said with a shrug. “We could probably learn a lot from her if we had time. What’s she arguing about with Dallow?”
Rose gave a snort of annoyance. “Whether or not magic is an element. She’s trying to convince him that it is, and he’s being stubborn since he’s never read anything about that,” Rose explained.
“Wow, that’s really interesting.” Angst frowned. “Actually, it’s not. Who cares?”
“Obviously Dallow does,” she responded then placed her hand on Scar’s nose. “Scar isn’t doing so well. He’s starting to remind me of Ivan.”
“He’s hitting on you and being offensive?” Angst teased.
“Don’t be stupid,” Rose snapped. “He seems to get weaker as we get closer to the Vex’kvette source.”
“Scar appears healthier when he’s close to Chryslaenor, but I don’t know what else I can do. It isn’t like I can leave him behind.” Angst looked over at the others. “I’m going to see if they’re ready to go yet.” He stood, leaving Rose and Scar wrapped in the cloak.
“...drink water, you walk on earth, you breathe air, you use magic,” Aerella was saying in a slightly strained voice as Angst approached.
“Next you’ll be telling us magic is alive. I bet it doesn’t like being used,” Hector prodded.
Aerella became incredibly serious. “All elements are alive, and they don’t like being controlled. There absolutely has to be balance or they start fighting until balance is restored.”
Hector laughed, until he looked around and realized nobody else was laughing.
“Magic is the most dangerous of them all. Even more dangerous than fire. It’s constantly changing to keep from being trapped. Now magic interacts even more differently than I remember. While we can still call forth swifen, the way people are magic now makes no sense. Tarness, and Hector, are completely alien to me.”
“I get that a lot, honey,” Hector heckled, making all of the men laugh.
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