The Witch; Stronghold; Underworld

by Ky Tyrand

  With a sharp breath, Ki’ara sat up and opened her eyes, instantly mad that her dream – or vision, or whatever it was – had ended before she could ask Mark what he meant.

  As quickly as she had bolted upright, three hairy beasts sat up with her. She could see them clearly through the dazzling light of the Abnukadin as wispy tendrils of colorful energy danced between the stones and herself.

  Ki’ara had never seen anything like this before.

  In fact, she had never witnessed anything so beautiful in her life. An entire spectrum of every color imaginable twirled and shifted around her, like she was in the middle of the brightest rainbow ever, and it was swimming around her, engulfing her in its colorful magic.

  This was nothing like what she had experienced in the Abnukadin with Je’nna and Sir Grue’gan. The energy there was faint compared to this. And Je’nna had to punch in a code to make it work…

  Ki’ara was in a bad way when she’d arrived here, but surely she would have remembered doing that?

  Could it have activated on its own?

  Ki’ara’s eyes fell on the three wolves seated around her. “Did you do this?” she asked one of them. Though she couldn’t tell the animal’s color through the ever-shifting swirls of light between them, she recognized the tufted hair and scar on its muzzle. The shaggy wolf stood and wagged its tail, letting out a single bark, which made her jump.

  Though she no longer feared the wolves, it was hard to forget how ferocious they had been the first time she was here. But they no longer showed any signs of aggression. Perhaps they accepted that she belonged here, and she no longer needed to press the handprint to prove it.

  The wolf slowly approached, making her wonder if she should stand. At least then it wouldn’t tower over her. But the animal kept its head low as it neared, and lay down beside her.

  With tails wagging, the other two massive creatures slunk forward and flopped down as well. One even rested his heavy head on her leg.

  She felt the need to pet each of them, scratching them behind their ears, which they seemed to appreciate – more than she appreciated them licking her hands and wrists. Their tongues lapped out between teeth as long as her fingers, reminding her of how dangerous these animals were. And yet, here they were, so friendly and gentle, as if they had never tried to rip her apart.

  “Thank you,” she told them all, before getting to her feet.

  Ki’ara couldn’t believe how great she felt. Though the Abnukadin near the pond from her dreams had done its job for the most part, the healing took a long time; days, even.

  But this… this place was alive. Ki’ara was invigorated. The spectacular array of colorful energy offered a blast of instant healing.

  Or did it?

  The Princess had no idea how long she’d been unconscious.

  Maybe it has been days. Her heart jumped at the thought, as she wondered what became of Petch and Je’nna. She needed to find them.

  The wolves all sat up as Ki’ara stood. There was something about their behavior that made her wish she had a treat for each of them. With nothing else to offer, she gave each of them a scratch under the chin and another thank you before stepping out of the Abnukadin and placing her palm on the console.

  As always, the lights came on and the wolves vanished. Oddly enough, she felt sad that they were gone and she was alone in the strange room. Like her furry new friends, the swirling rainbow of colorful light dissipated from the Abnukadin. Its job was done, and Ki’ara felt completely replenished.

  Her Mu’turi no longer hurt. She tested to make sure that it was all there. Next was her armor, and G.R.

  Everything was fully functional, including the Blue Energy within her Niksuru.

  There was something completely revitalizing about this magical place.

  Her eyes went to the illuminated cabinets that encircled the room, filled with every type of weapon and gadget imaginable. She didn’t know what half of them were, but refused to step foot out of this place without some way of protecting herself against Sylor. Ki’ara hoped never to see the man again. But if she did, the girl wanted to be prepared.

  She wandered past the empty scabbard Je’nna had pointed out earlier, wondering what kind of sword it had once held, and why the tattered old sheath was still on the shelf.

  A sword did make the most sense for her, and the racks held plenty. The one that jumped out at her was short and sleek, with a hilt just long enough for two small hands, and a very subtle curve that arched slightly to the back. Now this I can work with, Ki’ara thought to herself, as she slid the weapon from its dark scabbard and swung it around to test the weight and balance.

  She could tell that the precision blade no decoration, and well designed for combat – strong near the narrow guard, with the single edge transitioning smoothly to a razor sharp tip.

  It was a fine weapon, crafted to perfection.

  The slightly curved scabbard fit comfortably across her back, from one shoulder to the ribs on her opposite side. Her Mu’turi offered the ideal amount of hold to allow her to draw it effortlessly over her shoulder, despite her short reach.

  At least now she had something to protect her from Sylor.

  Wondering if it would be enough, Ki’ara spotted a small crossbow amidst an assortment of quarrels with different colored tips. The weapon looked surprisingly hi-tech for such a simple device, intertwined with multiple cables and pulleys that crisscrossed every which way.

  She wondered if it could possibly be as complicated as it looked. Ultimately, it took short arrows and fired them. Ki’ara had never used a crossbow before, but thought she could figure it out.

  Surely something like this wouldn’t be affected by Dark Matter.

  The colored bolts were already bundled in groups of three by way of small triangular shaped brackets that appeared to load into the top of the weapon. She didn’t know what the colors meant, but figured she couldn’t go wrong by gathering some of each. There were places to hold four cartridges on the crossbow itself, and she secured two more on each thigh with her Mu’turi. According to her math, that gave her twenty-four shots of something. Scratch that – she grabbed another batch of purple quarrels and loaded them onto the top of the weapon – twenty-seven shots.

  Suited up and equipped to defend herself, the Princess was ready to find her friends.

  Her first thought was to head straight for the balcony where she thought she’d seen Je’nna, but decided it was a fool’s idea to go to Sylor’s last known location when she wasn’t certain she had even spotted her friend. Surely the mind plays tricks on you when you’re plummeting to your demise.

  Ki’ara decided that before she went anywhere, it might be worth trying to locate her friends from within the Wolf Room.

  Taking a chance, she closed her helmet and tried to reach Je’nna through the communicator…

  No reply. Big surprise. Forgetting the fact that the communicators rarely seemed to work, when Ki’ara had left her friend in the secret passage, Je’nna’s suit had been in a bad way. Ki’ara couldn’t imagine any tech within it being operational.

  But that wasn’t Ki’ara’s only option. She still had a way of finding the girl. Or rather – her gear.

  After flipping open her helmet, the Princess closed her eyes and concentrated. The plasma in her own weapons was distracting, but if she focused…

  There.

  Ki’ara could sense substantial pools of Blue Energy in two locations within the Keep.

  One was up near the top, on one of the highest levels – perhaps even on the roof.

  The other was closer, midway up the castle.

  The girl knew who they both belonged to, the only question was: which was which.

  Luckily, her previous link to Je’nna’s blasters was all Ki’ara needed for confirmation.

  A knowing smile spread across her face when she recognized the pattern of energy within her friend’s guns.

  33

  “I was kind of out of it, but I don�
�t remember it being like that.”

  Je’nna recognized the boy’s voice. There was something soothing about it.

  “I’ve only ever seen hair like that on one other person…” – A woman’s voice. Who is that? “Anyhow, she needs a doctor. I suspect she’s had her brain rattled in a nasty way. And spitting up blood like that – something’s wrong with her insides.”

  “If Tho’ran finds her, things could be even worse for her,” said Petch. “And he’ll use her to get to the Princess.”

  Je’nna could feel her guns nearby; within the room. Petch must have carried the weapons, along with her, all the way here. Wherever here was. She tried to force her eyes open, and at least one of them did what she wanted.

  She saw the boy sitting beside her, holding something against the side of her face. Whatever it was felt cold and hot and agonizing all at the same time.

  A short, plump woman with gray hair and concerned eyes stood beside Petch with her wrists folded against her hips. Her eyebrows went up when she noticed Je’nna waking.

  The girl realized she was in a bed within a small chamber, presumably belonging to this lady. Unlike the rich wood paneling in the rooms on the top floor, these walls were stark and cold, made of gray stone blocks. There was a tall narrow window to one side, but the curtains were drawn shut, leaving the room dark.

  After a moment, the woman spoke gently. “I am Ma’gy,” she said, before asking, “What is your name?”

  Petch made to tell her, but Ma’gy gave him a sharp sideways glance. “No cheating on the test,” she warned him, before offering Je’nna a warm smile. “What is your name, child?”

  The girl opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a dry croak.

  Petch set down the pad that had been against her face, and held a glass of water to her lips.

  She took two slurps before wincing and turning away. “Je’nn…” the girl began coughing uncontrollably, until blood came out onto a towel that Petch held under her chin. It felt like her insides were being torn apart with every cough.

  Ma’gy tried to appear calm, but then looked to the ceiling and began pacing. It was clear that she was unsure what to do.

  A tapping on the window gave everyone a start.

  Petch stood and shared a look with Ma’gy. Neither of them noticed Je’nna’s pistol fly across the room into her waiting hand, before it disappeared under the sheets.

  The tapping came again, rattling the glass.

  “We’re four floors up,” said Ma’gy. “It must be a bird.”

  Petch took a step toward the window, but Ma’gy’s hand stopped him. She reached down to a stand beside a hearth, and picked up a pair of fire pokers that probably hadn’t been used since before the Collapse; back when the air was much cooler, and fire was a necessity. She handed one of the pointed and hooked metal bars to Petch, and kept one for herself.

  Together, they walked to the window with iron weapons at the ready. Each took hold of a curtain, and then – on the mouthed count of three – ripped aside the drapes.

  The pair jumped at what they were met with.

  There, on the other side of the glass, with her long hair swirling in the wind, was Princess Ki’ara – clinging to the window mullion. One of her dazzling energy weapons was ablaze atop a fist that was drawn back, as if ready to punch a hole through the glass.

  She smiled when she saw them. The light on her wrist blinked out.

  Petch and Ma’gy were too startled to move, but jumped into action when Ki’ara’s not-so-subtle glance at the window latch suggested they should let her in.

  The glass swung open and Ki’ara slipped in, chased by a gust of wind.

  She threw her arms around Petch as Ma’gy peered out over the ledge.

  “By the Gods, how did you get up here, girl?” The woman was completely aghast.

  Ki’ara smiled and hugged her as well.

  “It’s good to see you both,” said the Princess, looking around for Je’nna. Ki’ara’s face dropped when she spotted her friend.

  “I’m afraid she’s in a terrible way,” said Ma’gy, as Ki’ara cautiously moved to the side of the bed. “Internal bleeding. Broken ribs. A nasty concussion. Perhaps swelling in her head…”

  A lump formed in Ki’ara’s throat at the sight of her friend’s condition. There was no telling how bad things were inside her head, but the swelling on the outside looked awful. The entire side of Je’nna’s face was colored shades of blue and red, and puffed up beyond recognition. Her eye was barely a slit in the bulging flesh between her cheek and forehead. There was no way she could see through it.

  “Ki’ara…” Je’nna rasped, before her other eye shut as well, and she once again drifted into unconsciousness.

  The Princess fought the urge to cry. Her eyebrows tightened. “Sylor did this?”

  Petch appeared at her side. “The big guy, with the tattoos…”

  “That’s him,” Ki’ara nodded, looking to the boy. “Syjak’s brother.” After seeing what Sylor did to Je’nna, she couldn’t imagine what the man would do to Petch if he ever found out the boy played such a critical role in defeating his brother. She shuddered at the thought.

  Petch pressed a cold pack against Je’nna’s ear.

  The Princess nearly choked on a sharp breath when her eyes pulled from Je’nna’s injuries and fell on her friend’s brightly colored hair.

  Blinking a double-take, Ki’ara took a step forward to confirm she wasn’t just seeing things. Even in the dimly-lit room, there was no question that the girl’s hair had changed.

  Separated from their typical pigtails, Je’nna’s locks were a mess atop her head.

  And they were no longer a single color.

  Normally bright pink from root to tip, they had shifted – the pink was now mixed with white and black, running the length in small clusters.

  Je’nna had striped hair.

  Though different colors than Ki’ara’s, the stark lines were just as pronounced. What had felt like such an anomaly on her own head – hair that had made her so unique – was on someone else.

  Ki’ara opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Her mind spun as she tried to make sense of what it could possibly mean.

  Never in her life had she seen naturally striped hair on anyone apart from herself. Not ever. Sure, there were girls in Stronghold who tried to imitate her by using chemicals to dye or strip the color.

  But that’s not what this was. Je’nna was at her weakest, and had just encountered Sylor and his Dark Matter. Her Mu’turi was unable to keep her hair masked…

  This was Je’nna’s hair in its natural state.

  First a black rose, and now striped hair?

  Ki’ara took a breath and wiped her own cheeks with the back of her hand. “We have to get her out of here.”

  Ma’gy stepped forward. “She needs a doctor…”

  “No,” said Ki’ara, perhaps a little too sharply. “She needs more than that.”

  “But…” sputtered Ma’gy.

  “She’s not safe here, and neither are you,” Ki’ara told her. “If I could find Je’nna here, so could Tho’ran. And probably Sylor. And if any of us are caught in your care, you know there will be trouble.”

  Ma’gy protested, “Well I can handle…”

  “Can you?” Ki’ara cut her off, feeling a pinch on time that didn’t allow for arguing. “Je’nna is one of the most dangerous people I’ve ever met, and look at her…” Do not cry, Ki’ara. Whether Ma’gy knew it or not, she was risking her life by harboring the three of them. And, feelings aside, Ki’ara did not intend on letting anyone else get hurt because of her.

  Ma’gy looked at Je’nna’s face before dropping her own chin.

  “We have to move quickly,” demanded the Princess, removing the crossbow and sword from her back. “Petch, do you have Je’nna’s things?”

  “Yes,” said the boy, making for a bundle of equipment piled onto an eating table across from the bed.

 
Ki’ara noticed something was missing. “Where’s her other…” she turned back to the bed, sensing the energy. “Never mind,” she said, lifting the sheet to find a pistol resting in her friend’s fingers. “Take this as well.”

  The Princess tossed the gun to Petch, who nearly dropped it as his hands fumbled for a grip while trying to figure out how it had ended up with Je’nna. He set it with the other gear – guns, knives, and gadgets – and wrapped them back into the bedsheet he’d used to carry them here, twisting the ends and tying it over his shoulder.

  Ki’ara nodded her approval. “Take this, too,” she said, handing him the short sword.

  The boy took the sword with his eyebrows raised.

  “Keep it handy,” she told him, before looking back to Je’nna. “How did you get her here?” she wondered aloud.

  Petch shrugged.

  “He carried her,” said Ma’gy. “Across the castle and down all those stairs. He’s a hero, you know.”

  “Yes,” agreed Ki’ara, with a wide smile and not a moment’s hesitation. “I do.”

  Petch tried not to blush, but it didn’t work in the slightest. “What now?” he asked.

  Ki’ara unlatched the window. “Do you trust me?”

  The boy nodded, but eyed the glass warily.

  “Good,” she told him, turning her back. “Hop on.”

  Though she’d tried to stay out of the way, Ma’gy was suddenly beside herself. “What… what… what…?” she repeated frantically with her hands in the air. But before she could stop them, Petch had climbed onto Ki’ara’s back, and together they leapt out of the window.

  34

  Ma’gy’s heart plummeted along with the two kids that had unexpectedly exited her room. She bolted to the window, faster than her body had carried her in years.

  But it wasn’t fast enough.

  The Princess had just leapt from her fourth floor window – and had somehow convinced young Petch to go along with her!

  The woman couldn’t bear to look over the ledge; to see their bodies on the ground. So instead, she put a hand against the wall, trying to control her heart from losing its place in her chest. When she finally caught her breath, Ma’gy worked up the nerve to look out the window to see what horrors lay beneath.