Pieces of Jade

by Lani Woodland

  I gulped. “Do you think that in the moment the room sprang to life the poison became active again?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m not taking any chances with your safety,” William said. I took a few more steps back and sat on one of the polished benches against the wall. “What I do know about this poison is that it’s the first inhalation of it that does the trick. We may already be doomed,” he said, gesturing toward the chamber. “The walls were alive with green mossy stuff still clinging to them. It’s a lethal plant compound that grows back in the Manacle.”

  “Nothing on this island is how I imagined it. Booby traps, poison, murder,” I said, my eyes returning to the room where the murdered skeletons of my ancestors lay. “The histories say the Myleans died of a plague, not from beheading and poison.”

  The captain glanced at me. “History is written by the victors, Sheridan.”

  “I can’t believe the Oreans did that.” I shook my head. “Why? For what purpose?”

  William lay on his back and placed a damp handkerchief across his forehead. “The Oreans were searching for someone with enough magic to cure their soil. When they arrived, their Hounds discovered that Dawn was the strongest of her people. They tried to arrange a marriage between Dawn and the Orean prince. Her people rejected the offer, so they kidnapped her.”

  My mind spun, trying to make sense of all the new information. It was not the version I’d been taught. “They wouldn’t have had to kidnap her. The Myleans were poor and needed the riches the kingdom could offer for—”

  “The Mylean people were in no way poor,” the captain cut in. He too was lying near the pool, not looking any better than his brother. “Look at this place. You’ve seen the jewels and carvings that fill this palace. And you’ve seen what really happened here.”

  In that magical room, I’d witnessed a grotesque genocide, one I couldn’t deny. I stared silently at him, unable to reconcile what my eyes saw and what I had always been told. It was incomprehensible.

  William spoke again. “The Myleans were powerful magicians and offered their services of magic to many kingdoms, always at a fair price. After the rejected marriage proposal of Princess Dawn, the Oreans came, pretending to seek a similar arrangement. They planned this elaborate feast to distract them from their plot to steal the princess. The princess’s bodyguard, a powerful warlock, uncovered the plot and warned the king. Afraid to start a war with the Oreans, the king ordered the warlock to bind the princess’s magic, so they wouldn’t want to take her. But the bodyguard was interrupted while in the act of binding her magic, unable to finish the spell. Most of her magic was bound, locked away from her use, but not all of it.”

  “I don’t understand.” I crossed my arms. “If the Myleans were so powerful, why didn’t they fight back once they knew about the threat to Dawn?”

  “They were a peaceful people, and had no real military.” William’s breathing seemed labored, a rose color blooming across his forehead. “For generations they were respected and revered by the other kingdoms that they aided. They thought they were too important to be in any danger.”

  Clay wiped the sweat off his forehead. “But back to Princess Dawn. She was kidnapped, probably during the very feast we just witnessed. The warlock who bound her was injured defending her against her kidnappers, but he survived and went after her. Because he was not at the feast when they opened the poison, he was spared the fate of the king and people.”

  “I’d always been taught . . .” My hands were shaking and I pressed my fingers over my mouth.

  “Did that look like a plague to you?” the captain demanded, gesturing to the room again. “Did the skeletons in the village look like they died of a plague? You’ve seen it with your own eyes.”

  The foundation of my beliefs were cracking and I didn’t know how to stop it, or if I should. “Why would the Oreans do that?”

  “Because they’re evil,” the captain replied.

  “I don’t believe that. There must be more to the story. Dawn wouldn’t have married into the family that destroyed her people.”

  William turned and looked at me with sad eyes. “She didn’t know at first. They took her and told her if she married their prince and gave him an heir, they would spare her island. For years she acquiesced to the kingdom’s demands, thinking she was protecting her people. She didn’t know that they were already dead. Once she discovered the truth, she summoned what remained of her magical strength and put the barrier around the island, and then bound up her remaining magic.”

  I twisted a strand of my hair around my finger. “Why murder the whole race if they already had Princess Dawn?”

  “Greed,” William said quietly. “They did it so they could keep her power for themselves. The other nations affected by the warlock’s curse would have to come to them to get the blood they needed to survive. And to make sure her people never stole her back. They built the barrier for the same reason: to keep her magical blood for themselves.”

  William began coughing and I stood to go check on him. “Stay there,” he said, holding up his hand. “I’ll be all right. When Dawn refused to help them, they tortured her. In the process, they discovered that her blood nourished the soil, exactly what they wanted. Being without her magic left her unable to defend herself, but able to bleed for them. They liked it that way. And the binding spell she had put on the medallion was especially attuned to her descendants. That’s why it was passed down from Emmía to Emmía, to keep their magic bound.”

  Dawn’s medallion? My medallion? Some kind of magical muzzle? “That can’t be right. The whole kingdom wears medallions. It protects them.”

  “The medallions were introduced to the Orean culture at the birth of the second Emmía, so she would never want to remove her necklace.”

  I shook my head. “What happened here was horrible. But it was centuries ago during a time of desperation of the Kingdom. The royal family can’t be blamed for the actions of their ancestors.”

  “They still lock the Emmía behind the barrier.”

  “She isn’t a prisoner. She’s there for her safety.”

  The captain snorted. “For the safety of their pocketbooks.”

  “I know it’s hard to accept,” William said, “but it’s all true. Outside the kingdom there are history books and other sources of—” He cut off in a fit of coughs.

  “Other sources of what?” I asked when the coughing subsided, but he didn’t respond. “William? Captain?” I shouted, but got no response.

  Chapter 17

  From my bench across the room, I couldn’t tell if William or the captain were still breathing. I bit my lip, fighting off the rising panic. William. Not William. Please not William.

  An idea came to me and I jumped to my feet. Staying along the outside of the room I returned to the entrance and ran outside. Heading for the first greenery I could find, I waded into the shrubs and ferns, my eyes searching for a particular herb. It didn’t take long to find it: a morilieas plant. It was a powerful herb Pearl used to protect herself from airborne infections when helping the ill. I gathered a handful and wrapped it inside a handkerchief, then tied the bundle across my mouth and nose. Just to be safe, I pulled the gloves out of my pouch and tugged them on. I ran back inside, this time heading straight for the pool and the two men.

  “William,” I called. He didn’t answer. His forehead glistened with sweat, burning with fever.

  Was the captain still coherent? Maybe he could answer my questions. He hadn’t moved and his eyes were closed, his face as flushed as Wiliam’s. Was he dead?

  “Captain?” I kicked him with the toe of my boot and he let out a groan of complaint. “You’re dying.”

  “Clearly,” the captain said, between coughs. Even near death, he held firmly to his sarcasm. “Too bad the magician who created that magical reenactment didn’t do something to keep the poison from killing those who would see it.”

  A rash of red spots dotted his face. “Is there a cure?”

&nb
sp; The captain merely shook his head. Whether that meant there wasn’t a cure to be had, or he didn’t know what it was, I wasn’t sure. I moved back to William. I worried my hands together trying to figure out what to do.

  What would Pearl do? I should know. She’d taught me. I took a deep breath, calling on my healer training. I mentally listed the things I needed to slow the poison and frowned in displeasure. I didn’t have any of them at hand.

  I would have to help them without any medicines, then. Noticing smudges of green on their white shirts, I knew I had to undress them to get the poison away from them. The men lay with their eyes closed. I removed William’s scabbard, then biting my lip I reached out to untie the knot around William’s neck and the captain's eyes came open.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice croaking.

  “I need to undress him so—”

  “I thought I made myself clear about—” his weak voice broke off and he began coughing. “—about not seducing him while you tend to him.” The corners of his mouth tweaked up and, his body shook with silent laughter.

  “You're hilarious,” I retorted, my cheeks flushing.

  He started coughing again and I frowned at the rate of his deterioration.

  I resumed the loosening of the buttons on William's shirt and glanced at the captain. He seemed to have passed out. I couldn't help but sigh in relief that he wouldn't be conscious as I proceeded. I didn’t want any more of his humor. I slid the shirt gingerly over William’s shoulder, down his arm and pulled it out from underneath him, then quickly undressed the rest of him.

  The Guardians flames hadn’t only scarred his face—the scars spread across his muscular stomach. But even flushed with fever and scarred, he was beautiful.

  With a groan, I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to tend the captain as well. It was not an enjoyable thought.

  But as I looked at William's haggard face, I knew I had to do it. For reasons I didn’t understand, he loved his brother. Pressing my lips together in a firm line, I moved over to the captain and began removing his clothing as well.

  I dared a glimpse at his chest and saw he had sustained new injuries in the battle with the navy. A narrow zigzag of yellow thread still crossed his skin, stitches from the doctor. Some of the bruising had begun to yellow and fade. My shaking hand hesitated above the waist of his trousers. I averted my gaze as I stripped off his pants and under-things and carried the poison-covered material outside.

  I found a fire pit and undressed down to my shift, adding my now green-smeared dress to the pile. I didn’t have any matches, but maybe I didn’t need them. William claimed my medallion had been restricting my magical ability. Could it be true? I thought back to my first day aboard the Promise, when I had pretended to call the winds. Had that been luck, or actual magic? Could I call on it now? In need, I chanted a spell. A fire burst instantly to life. I didn’t allow myself to marvel at my success, but hurried back to the men.

  A tall tree grew just outside the cave’s opening, covered with large leaves. I pulled as many of them down as I could and carried them back toward William and the captain. They lay on the floor of the cave exactly as I had left them, but their complexions had turned an even deeper shade of red.

  In a rush, I bent over William and examined him. His breath was uneven, but his heart beat strongly in his chest, and I let out a sigh of relief.

  I wove together some of the leaves and placed them over the men for modesty, then I took a leaf to the pool. Folding it like a cup, I dipped it into the clear water and returned to William. I nudged his feverish head onto my lap and raised the leaf to his chapped lips.

  I trickled a thin stream into his mouth, which he swallowed, and then did the same for the captain. For the next several minutes I went back and forth between them, fearing it wouldn't be enough. Several of the crimson spots turned black and erupted into foul-smelling pustules.

  William had just entered my life. I hadn’t been given enough time with him. He had to get well.

  The captain moaned from his spot on the floor and his eyes fluttered open looking glassy and blank. His tongue hung out of his mouth, swollen and covered in black sores. William’s tongued lolled out of his mouth too, twice its normal size.

  The end was near.

  They were going to die right in front of me.

  I shivered against the deepening night. I tossed the drier leaves into a circle of stones, and cast a fire spell. A blaze sprung fiercely to life, illuminating the room and everything in it. I froze in place, icicles of fear stabbed my chest.

  We weren’t alone

  Spirits, draped in long hoods hovered next to me. I screamed, instantly recognizing them from the Admiral’s stories.

  The spirits of death. They came for the dying and delivered them to the other side. They drew nearer, their long skeletal fingers stretched out for William. I threw my arms around him and drew him close to me, holding him fiercely.

  “You can’t have him!” My cry echoed around the chamber.

  I stood my ground, willing to do whatever it took. I wouldn’t let them take William.

  “It's their time,” one of the shadows replied in a silken voice.

  I looked over at the captain, his once handsome face now distorted and grotesque from the illness that ravaged him, and I felt myself torn with indecision. Here was the man I hated, the man that I had planned to revenge myself against.

  But no matter how much I hated the captain, I cared about his brother. After all William had done for me I couldn’t abandon the captain. And I did have one more final thing to try before I gave up all hope.

  I stood and pulled the sword from William’s discarded scabbard and sliced along my palm. Blood trailed from the deep wound as I circled William’s body, all the while mumbling words from the blood-lettings. The incantation came easily, but instead of saying the word “ground,” I replaced it with William's full name. It wasn’t enough. The protective circle might keep away the spirits but what would stop the poison? In desperation, I smeared my bloody fingers across his lips coating his sore tongue. He swallowed convulsively and his dull eyes blazed and his body twitched fiercely.

  The shades drew back with a hiss as William spasmed on the ground.

  “What did you do?” the captain’s faint voice croaked as William twitched and screamed. I remained silent, unsure myself of what I had done.

  The spirits thrust themselves forward in rage, but as they tried to cross the protective circle, they were repelled by a blinding flash of light. They howled in pain. Then turned to the captain.

  Oh, no.

  I ran to him and quickly repeated what I’d done for William. He tried to fight me, when I smeared his mouth with my blood, but he was too weak to fend me off. I collapsed beside him, panting.

  The spirits skeletal faces contorted in rage, hovering at the edges of the protective circles. Their hollow voices cursed at me, promising to take me before my time.

  A second light flooded the cave, the intensity momentarily blinding me. When my vision cleared, a second group of spirits were in the cave. These ones floated above my circles, staring at the spirits of death who were flitting from one to the other, looking for a way in. They shone, a light to death’s darkness. I couldn’t see the details of the glowing beings but their presence comforted me. They easily moved in and out of my protective barriers, and when one drew near I saw violet eyes.

  “You’re the spirits of my ancestors.”

  My ancestors’ spirits joined hands and the brightness of the room grew so intense I had to shield my eyes. The captain began to twitch even harder and I heard a cry rip from William's throat.

  “William!” I cried, stepping out of the captain's circle and running toward my husband. I tried to open my eyes so I could grab him, but the light was so brilliant I closed them again with a cry. I groped around on the ground until I found his body and felt around for his face, which I held in my hands as he spasmed and screamed.

  “Y
ou're hurting him!” I cried, but the spirits made no reply.

  Just when I thought he could take no more, the light began to fade from behind my eyelids and William stopped moving, becoming silent. I peeked out from under my lashes and found the glowing spirits still there. The dark ones had vanished.

  One spoke. “I am King Henare, father of Dawn and last king of the Mylean people. We’ve waited centuries to share our story.” The king bent over and kissed my brow, then smiled at me. “It was your blood that made this possible. You have freed us. You are truly a Mylean princess, my daughter.” He stood, shoulders erect and proud. “You will prevail. We leave our redemption in your hands.”

  “Wait!” I cried. “There are so many things that I need to ask you!” My ancestors smiled as they continued to fade away. The room grew dimmer as their images slowly changed into wisps of fog and finally disappeared. Only the dim light of my fire remained.

  I looked down at William and my mouth fell open. I barely recognize him. Not only had all signs of the sickness had been removed, but the Mylean specters had removed all the scarring from his face, wrists, and chest. Without his scars he looked younger, maybe not even twenty.

  I couldn’t help myself. I touched his smooth cheek and face, tears prickling my eyes. He was exquisite. Now his flesh matched the beauty of his soul.

  I forced myself from his side to perform a quick examination of the captain, who showed the same results, down to completely healing the stitches on his chest.

  My eyes traveled back and forth between the two brothers, wondering about their stories. How had two young men ended up in charge of a crew of pirates? What had led them to the Isle of Grey? And if they didn’t want gems, why had they come?

  Right then, none of that mattered. They were alive.

  My palm throbbed from my hasty cut. The words of the spell I’d witnessed countless times after my blood-lettings came to mind, and I whispered the phrase, focusing on my hand. The folds of flesh knitted cleanly together without even the hint of a scar. I stared in amazement, too tired to comprehend. It had always taken three healers several spell-casts to seal my cuts before, and they’d always left scars. But I’d done it almost without thought.