Pieces of Jade

by Lani Woodland

  “I know. We’ll do it before we leave.”

  “Thank you,” I said meeting his eyes.

  He ducked his head and nodded. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  “The palace,” the captain said, and pointed to a building glistening through the trees. “It has to be there.”

  The castle itself was small, much smaller than the one I grew up in, but still beautiful. With such a favorable climate, the roofs had been constructed with openings that let the sunshine pour in. Detailed frescoes lined the walls depicting dolphins, octopi and other creatures from the sea. Mosaics of precisely cut stones created floral patterns beneath our feet.

  I shuddered as we walked through its silent halls. The remains of the family I had seen refused to leave my mind and I feared with every turn that we would run into more remains. After all, the whole population had died and I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle seeing.

  We exhausted several hours wandering around the palace and through its grounds. William and his brother paged through every scroll or scrap of paper they found, skimming their contents. They inspected various artifacts and searched for hidden compartments, without any luck. Since I had no idea what they were looking for I couldn't help, nor would I have wanted to. Both William and the captain’s pace slowed and their shoulders hunched with each passing room.

  I hated seeing William helping his brother. It reminded me he was a pirate.

  When they discovered the entrance to a cave, William patted his brother on the back. “Maybe this is it.”

  “If we're lucky,” the captain said. Pulling his sword from his scabbard, he motioned me inside the tunnel-like opening.

  The walls of the cave shone with jewels—topaz, emerald, and diamond—which gleamed in the sunlight coming through the shafts that appeared to have been drilled to permit light and air. Were these gems the treasure they sought? The cave narrowed before opening into a vast cavern, the size of a banquet hall. Its ceiling reached skyward in what seemed an almost unnatural formation, more geometrically square than naturally round and ragged.

  Above me, a mezzanine level of overhanging alcoves had been chiseled from the stone walls, with stairs and corridors to connect them. Benches lined the perimeter of the walls, made from the same rock but polished smooth. It was obvious that this space had been highly significant since such care had been taken in carving it out of solid volcanic rock.

  “This is beautiful.” William whistled, tilting his head back and looking up at the ceiling.

  “It has to be here.” The captain started up the stairs. “But where?”

  A deep, clear pool of water graced the middle of the cavern. On the bottom, jewels reflected the dim light. Behind the pool stood an altar of smooth white stone, a sharp contrast to the black stone surrounding it. A shaft of sunlight fell on the altar’s surface, making it seem illuminated from within. My feet carried me to the altar.

  Its polished surface reflected like a looking glass, and I peered down at my reflection, startling once again at my aged disguise. I dropped to my knees in front of it, reverenced by its sacred beauty.

  A pearly white gem, the same shape as my medallion, protruded from the top. My hands rose to touch it, but jerked back in surprise at the heat emanating from it. I still longed—no, needed—to touch it. My hands stretched out, caressing the emblem. Heat scorched through me and I gasped, pulling my hands away. As I did, unseen points snagged my fingers, pricking each one, so that ten drops of blood, one from each finger, fell onto the clean stone. The blood soaked into the altar, leaving the surface as gleaming and pristine as before.

  The cave began to vibrate, grumbling around me like a child being roused from a nap.

  “The roof is caving in!” the captain shouted. “Run! Before we're trapped!”

  I took a step forward but the ground shifted from under my feet and my balance faltered, throwing me against the altar where another surge of heat jolted me. Energy spiked through me, filling me to bursting. I screamed and my eyes rolled back in my head, but something bound me to the altar, and I couldn’t let go. Sweat dripped down my spine, my pulse galloped, and my body quivered. Light seeped from my pores, dripped from the ends of my hair, making me glow while a matching shine emanated from the jewels in the room. Searing white heat rippled through my chest.

  What was happening to me?

  William drew his sword as he ran to me, then grunted as a spark crackled at his feet and he flew backwards skidding across the floor as he landed. Immediately he sprang to try again, once more being knocked off his feet.

  The pain in my body intensified, pounding in my skull until the edges of my vision grew dark. My head flew back and a guttural cry tore from my throat shooting a beam of light straight up where it collided with the light from the jewels, bunching into a single glowing ball that swelled as the light grew. A bolt of power, like lightning, arced from the sphere of light and struck me in the chest. The music from my dream flooded my ears. A flash of silver flared from my, skin cascading the room in a light so brilliant I had to close my eyes. Then, as abruptly as it had appeared, the rumbling stopped, the light flickered out and the pain left me.

  Silence echoed through the chamber and I collapsed to the floor. Panting, I rolled onto my back, surprised to see the ceiling intact. A searing pain pulsed in my palm, a quick glance showed the emblem of the gem burned into my flesh. But in the blink of an eye it vanished.

  What was that? It was like I’d been caught in a magic riptide that tossed me around, holding me under until I almost drowned. In my chest, something new stirred like it’d broken loose at the altar. And it felt like I’d shed a corset and could breathe deep for the first time in my life.

  The captain stood rooted to the spot, wide-eyed. William rushed to my side and this time nothing stopped him. He put an arm around me, bringing my head to his chest.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, holding me tight. The steady cadence of his heart helped my own to slow. He stroked my hair and placed a kiss on the crown of my head. Each touch of his was like a drug numbing the pain.

  The answer should have been ‘no,’ but in the safety of his arms I was all right. I gave him a small nod and nestled closer, my finger resting against the soft fabric of his shirt.

  The serenity of the moment was ruined when the captain crouched down into my line of sight and asked, “Are you two quite done?”

  William reached out and shoved his brother back. I laughed and asked William to help me to the water.

  My fingertips were bloody and my sore muscles ached, but I barely noticed because William swept me up in his arms, carrying me to the pool’s edge. With a contented sigh, I looped my arms around his neck, resting my forehead on his shoulder. I inhaled his fresh, pine-needle scent and stroked his cheek with the back of my hand.

  “You need to stop that if you want me to put you down,” he said in a husky voice.

  I loosened my arms. “Sorry.”

  His lips grazed my neck. “Don’t apologize. I enjoyed it. That was the problem.”

  He gently put me down, and I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his embrace. Without his touch, my pain reasserted its dominance and I lowered myself to the pool.

  William wet a handkerchief and gave it to me. While I wiped the blood and dirt from my hands, he scooped some water in his cupped hands, and brought it to my lips. The water was sweet to my sore throat.

  The captain stepped beside me, the water reflecting his confused face. “What happened?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  New beads of blood gathered on my fingertips so I dipped them in the pool. The icy water turned warm as the blood twirled in its depths. The jewels glittering in the bottom of the pool appeared to twinkle. My eyes widened when I realized they weren’t gems but stars and the orb of the moon. Were they a reflection? I glanced up through the airshaft above, squinting at the sunlight streaming in, and then frowned down at the image in the water. Once a
gain, a starry moonlit sky shone up at me.

  My forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Do you see that?” I asked, pointing into the water.

  The men bent closer to examine it and both jerked in surprise.

  “It’s amazing,” William said. “There’s still magic in this place.”

  “It is beautiful,” the captain said, “but not what we came for. We should be going.”

  “Clayton!” William called, his voice full of wonder. “Look at the water.”

  The captain peered in. “Why?”

  I leaned over too, not believing what I saw. The moonlit scene had changed and now it showed a fleet of naval ships lined up in battle formation against a single vessel. While the fleet tossed violently in a storm, the lone ship—I recognized it as the Mary Rose, one of the ships from the royal armada—sat in the water, calm and firm.

  The image changed again, focusing on a couple standing at the bow of the Mary Rose. An old woman clasped hands with the pirate captain. It took me a moment to realize the woman in the vision was me.

  “I’m here with you until the end,” my vision self said. The captain turned back to look at the enemy lined up against us, waiting to strike.

  “It’s suicide for anyone who stays. I release you from your blood oath,” he said, looking as if the act pained him to his very soul. “Take a longboat and some men and get out of here, now!”

  “I don’t want to be released from my blood vow. I want to stay!” my vision-self insisted, and as I watched in horror, the captain leaned down to kiss the top of my frail head, his face full of genuine love and unspoken emotion. The pool shimmered and the vision faded away.

  A slick film of perspiration covered me. I shuddered and put a hand to my head, trying to wipe from my mind the image of him kissing my head.

  The scene was gone now, the true reflection of sunlight staring up at me from the shallow basin, along with the reflection of the captain and the look of repulsion on his face.

  “You saw that,” I stated dully.

  I watched his reflection lace his hands behind his neck. “I did.”

  I looked at William, wondering what he had to say, but he remained quiet, his eyes thoughtful.

  “Don't worry.” I pursed my lips. “That will never happen.”

  “I should think not,” the captain agreed.

  “Finally we agree on something,” I said, struggling to my feet and drying my hands off on my dress. “What now?”

  The captain sucked on his bottom lip for several seconds before stating flatly, “It isn’t here.” He paused, looking lost and almost scared. “We keep searching.”

  I startled at the unexpectedness of his statement. “We’re leaving without prying any gems from the wall?”

  His eyebrows rose. “Why would I do that?”

  “I thought you were after a treasure.”

  “You’ve never tried to understand me. Out that way, I should think.” He pointed towards the far side of the room, directly opposite from where we had entered.

  William strode ahead across the room and down another tunnel that led us outside. Emerging from the darkened passageway, I blinked at the sudden brightness of the sun. We stood near a set of double doors carved in high relief, made of the same material as the altar. They glittered in the shining sun and I couldn’t help but admire their beauty.

  “Let’s try there.” The captain grinned as he moved past William. “I was beginning to worry we—”

  “Hold,” William interrupted, putting his arm out to stop the captain. “Something isn’t right.”

  I shaded my eyes, trying to see what had spooked William but saw nothing, and I said as much.

  “Hush, you old fool,” the captain snapped. “If William says something is wrong, then it is.”

  “Stay here,” William said. “I’ll scout ahead.” William spared me a glance before opening the door and slipping into the room.

  I stared at the doors, marveling at the masterwork of my ancestors. I rested my hand against the cool stone of the doorway. Here I was, a living descendant of the Myleans making contact with a relic that hadn’t been touched in a thousand years. I pressed my head to the frame and closed my eyes, savoring the experience. I could almost hear music floating to my ears, the airy sounds of reed flutes and the percussive staccato of drums.

  I trailed a finger against the elaborate door but the captain grabbed my hand and pulled it back.

  “Didn’t you learn anything from the altar, Sheridan? Don’t touch anything! There’s something ghostly about this place!”

  I blushed, ashamed I had forgotten so soon. “I’m sorry.”

  He shuffled from foot to foot. “Something isn’t right—I’m going after William. Stay here.”

  He disappeared through the doors.

  I leaned around the door, and peered into the room beyond the doorway. I was careful not to let any part of me cross the threshold. “William?” My voice echoed back at me through the chamber and my eyes grew wide as I took in another room filled with skeletons.

  “Do you hear that?” the captain asked, reappearing from around the doorway. His body was tense and he held his breath, as if straining to hear something quiet. I turned my head, listening for anything out of the ordinary.

  He and William were the only living people in the room, and yet . . . I could hear something. The music I thought I had imagined was growing louder, vibrant, buoyant, and very real as it carried across the threshold, echoing around the chamber behind me.

  “What is that?” I breathed.

  A flash of light emanated from the threshold between us, blinding me with its brilliance. The captain and I were both thrown backwards, flinging me back from the room and the captain deeper inside it. With a hum and a crackle like the chime of bells, a magical barrier flared to life inside the doorway. Tiny pin pricks of light danced across an invisible plane.

  As quickly as I could, I picked myself up and ran towards it.

  “William?” I called. I could see him moving inside the room, but he didn’t answer. Afraid to touch the shimmering wall, I held my hand out tentatively. When nothing happened I slowly eased my hand forward until my skin made contact with the barrier. Tiny prickles of energy bounded throughout my body. From out of nowhere an entire assembly sprang to life inside the room, complete with costumes and music.

  “Sheridan, what are you doing?” the captain yelled from his place inside the chamber.

  “It’s not me,” I said, inspecting the magical divider. Remembering my blood opening the outer barrier, I picked up a sharp rock and pressed its edge into my thumb until it prickled with blood. I took a drop and spread it across the door. Nothing happened.

  With a frown I glanced inside the room, where the captain stared open-mouthed at the full-blown celebration underway. Gone were the desiccated bodies, replaced now with men and women dancing, eating, and drinking. Some were dressed as for a masquerade ball I would find in Orea, the silk embroidery of their formal attire and animal masks illuminated by torchlight. The rest of the people looked to be from a different culture, the women in twined-leaf skirts and short sleeved blouses of bright, flower-patterned cloth, the men walking shirtless, displaying dark, coppery skin covered in intricate black patterns.

  Against the far wall, the king—probably King Henare—sat on a throne of carved stone. A wide sash of woven grass crossed his chest, disappearing under a feathered cape. On his head, bright yellow flowers formed a crest like a rooster’s comb. He held a long wooden staff propped upright, reaching almost as high as his crested floral crown.

  Were these the Myleans? My ancestors? I searched their faces, hoping to feel some connection to this fallen people. In Orea, my blood made me different and I didn’t want to be on the outside anymore. I wanted to belong. A woman near me in leaf skirts laughed and looked toward the door. Her eyes were violet. Like mine. I searched the room, my heart expanding. All the Mylean people had violet eyes. I smiled. Some part of them still existed in me.


  A group of Mylean women danced to the music, their hips following the frantic rhythm of the drums while their hands flowed with the rise and fall of the bamboo flutes. One Mylean looked startlingly familiar, but before I could place him, the vision changed.

  A line of Orean servants trooped into the room, their faces also covered for the masquerade ball in a ceremonial mask with a long, thin, hooked noses. They handed each Orean a bottle of wine. One of the Orean nobles proposed a special toast to the new treaty.

  In one choreographed move, the Oreans, opened the bottles with a flourish, wine foam spraying forth. But instead of pouring the wine, the Oreans ran through the room, the frothing bottles clutched like torches in their hands. The Myleans clapped at their showmanship, but what started as cheers turned to guttural screams.

  As the green foam spewed from bottles, it rose like mist, spreading like an emerald fog. Any who inhaled the tainted air collapsed, coughing until their life was snuffed out. The Oreans, breathing through their masks, were the only survivors.

  “Poison,” I whispered.

  Even after the vision ended, the screams of the dying still rang in my ears and I shook my head.

  The once happy and vibrant people were now a mass of skeletons, desiccated by the ravages of time. Some still had cups between their bony fingers; others were clutched in immortal embraces on the dusty floor. The king still sat on his throne, his head lolling to the side. Moss sprouted from his empty eye sockets—the same green moss that covered the walls.

  With a flicker of light, the barrier over the door dissipated, setting the brothers free.

  “Stand back, Sheridan,” William commanded. “The captain and I have both been exposed.”

  I slid back a few feet and stared at the moss-covered walls, suddenly thankful that I had been outside the barrier. “Surely it’s not still poisonous after a thousand years.”

  “Under ordinary circumstances,” William said slowly, “I would agree with you, but this place is filled with deep magic.” William and his brother made their way to the pool of water and kneeled beside it, scooping up handfuls to wash their faces.