by J B Cantwell
I couldn’t figure out what to do next. I had to think. I had formed the plan up to this point, but I hadn’t thought farther than this moment.
Come on, think.
But the minutes, and soon hours, passed by in a haze of chattering teeth. With no method of propulsion, we were simply adrift on the wide open sea, helpless to direct our movement. Whatever power Jade had, I hoped she was able to somehow push us towards Riverstone. But she couldn’t speak and keep us up at the same time. I would have to simply trust her and hope that she could somehow get us to shore.
After a while I became concerned about her condition; she must be freezing, too. I crawled over to her and felt her cheek and hand. They were hot to the touch. The force of her power radiated through her and lit her up like a burning torch.
“Erod,” I called. He sat on the edge of the stone blanket, huddled against the night. “She’s warm. Come over.”
He looked up. “What do you mean? How can she be warm?”
“Just trust me,” I said. I settled myself close to where Jade sat, not touching her, but close enough to catch the heat that came off her body. Erod made his way over, and soon we were both well on our way to drying off.
“Why did you help us?” I asked after a time. “You could have just let them take the necklace.”
“I, too, seek passage to Riverstone,” Erod answered.
“You do? Why?”
“It is my home. I have long since desired to return, but it has been some time since the ships stopped traveling that way. It was my good fortune that you two happened to hire ours. I have not been so close to home in many years.”
His home?
“Why not?” I asked.
He shook his big head slowly from side to side.
“Madness. The elders became sick long ago. I left when things became too much to bear. And my people are not friendly to men such as me. Not long after my departure, the Torrensai began, though the simple minded men on the docks do not understand them. To them, it was a simple matter of markets. With no markets, there is no commerce, and thus no ships are needed. And they do not question it, as they have come of age believing these waters have always been treacherous.”
“No markets?” I asked. “What do you mean? Where did everybody go?” Could Jade have been right? Maybe Riverstone was abandoned.
“I know not,” he said. He leaned back and gazed casually at the horizon, his shirt finally warm and dry. “Perhaps they all fell ill. Perhaps the place is full of naught but ghosts. But someone, or something, is setting the Torrensai.”
“Jade thought it was the Solitaries,” I said.
He chuckled. “No. My people do not hold the power to do such things. Nor do they desire to.”
“Wait. You mean you—you’re a—a Solitary?”
He peered down at me.
“You don’t need to say the word as if it, itself, is a curse.”
“I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “It’s just that, well, Jade said that Solitaries were, um, not normal.”
Erod sighed heavily.
“I do not know what she has told you, but hear me now. The people of different lands and beliefs often find the others around them to be undesirable, do they not?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“What one man knows of a society from the outside is quite different from what one might know from within. Because we prepare for war does not make us warmongers. Because we wish to defend ourselves does not make us set monsters on other men. No, whoever is doing this is not of Solitary heritage. It is all but impossible.”
We sat quietly for a time, and again my imagination began attempting to put a face to whoever was doing this. The closer we got to Riverstone, it seemed, the less I wanted to go.
“So why go back? If things were—are—so bad in Riverstone, why do you want to return? Especially after the attacks today?”
“Why does she want to return?” he asked, tilting his head towards Jade. “It is my home. Perhaps I can help. But no peace lies out there, away from it.”
I thought about his answers, and they seemed to add up, this last one more than any of the others. I had just one more.
“What about the necklace?” I asked. “Don’t you want it for yourself?”
He smiled and chucked.
“I have no use for gold, boy. I ain’t no link maker, and I expect I’ve traveled plenty.”
“But you could be rich. Why wouldn’t you want gold?“
“Because I ain’t a fool,” he said. “I see what you are, even if the others don’t.”
“You do?”
“Of course I do. Especially now.” He gestured to the rock raft we sat upon. “And don’t think I don’t know what’s going on out there. But when the end comes, I expect I would rather be home than anywhere.”
The end. He may have left his people, but the doctrine of the Solitaries had remained with him. My stomach gave a hollow twist as I realized that, zealot or not, he could easily be right. If Cadoc had had his way, he would have obliterated every beautiful, wonderful thing he could lay his hands on. And if Erod believed that a world like Cadoc’s was what lay ahead, why not go home? Why not spend your last moments among those you love?
It had been many nights since I had thought of my own home. On Earth my mother and grandmother, maybe even my father, awaited my return. Surely they thought I was dead by now. I had been gone, disappeared from the old lady’s attic, for many months. I wondered, if I had been away for years instead, would I still long to return?
My old life seemed so far away. My mundane existence of schoolwork and hospitals and the ever difficult task of keeping air moving in and out of my lungs, all now abandoned and forgotten by me as I jumped from planet to planet like some sort of cosmic superhero. On Earth the kids at the city school were probably back in classes by now. They would sit in stuffy, pale rooms, their noses pressed into books, learning about the decline of our world and how it led them to be in that very place. What did they say about me? Maybe nobody even noticed I was gone.
But Mom noticed. Mom would be there, waiting. Always.
After the agonizing hours of night, the faint glow of morning revealed itself through the misty fog. Twenty minutes later, with the sun finally threatening to rise in earnest, we saw it. A thin strip of land sat stable amid the waves. As the stone raft drifted nearer, a giant granite structure rising up into the clouds came into view.
“Ah! Boy!” whooped Erod, clapping me on the back with his massive hand. “I can’t believe it!”
I couldn’t believe it, either. My enormous gamble had paid off.
Jutting up from the hard mountain, the castle of Riverstone towered high, awaiting the return of its princess.
CHAPTER FIVE
The stones beneath us fell back to the depths of the ocean as soon as Jade saw the towering structure.
“Father,” she called out softly, and then sunk quietly into the frigid water, her magical raft forgotten.
I splashed and sputtered in the swells. Erod tread water and plucked Jade from beneath the waves, her wet hair clinging to her face, her eyes lost in a blank stare. Then he grabbed for me, and I felt the power of his large, muscled arm rescue me from drowning yet again. He turned onto his back, floating, and held each of us under one arm. His feet kicked expertly at the water, propelling us towards the shore. As the waves rocked us up and down, he began to sing.
Tell the mothers to hold their babes
Darkness comes bearing wicked blades
Through the night past the stars’ retreat
Children dream of a swift defeat
‘Cross the meadow he’ll bring his tribe
O’er rock and sand, nowhere to hide
We will wait and not mark the score
He brings us death, we bring him war
“What does that mean?” I asked through chattering teeth. “Are all of your people like that? Always looking for war?”
“We do not seek war. The song is about o
ur lives, and about what awaits. We sing what we know.”
“And you really think that war is what’s coming?” I asked.
“I don’t think it.” He breathed hard from the effort of the swim. “I know it.”
I rolled onto my back, staring at the sky and trying to forget how cold I suddenly was. How awful it must be to have a war song be the tune that calls you home. But Erod didn’t seem to mind that blood and death made up the song of his people. From what Jade had said, the Solitaries had expected war to erupt at any second for a very long time.
After twenty minutes or so, Erod suddenly turned his body upright. His feet had found the sea floor, but he continued to carry us along, my feet still kicking helplessly beneath the surface, Jade’s body limp as a wet rag. When he was so far out of the water that only his knees remained submerged, he finally released us.
I wobbled as I began walking towards the beach, exhausted from the effort and stiff from the intense cold. The sun on the back of my neck was the only part of me that began to warm. It was the hunger for more heat that kept me moving forward, resisting the force of the waves in the shallows to keeping myself standing.
As I finally reached the dry sand, I turned to look for Jade, expecting her to be right beside me. But what I saw instead was that she hadn’t moved at all. She stood staring blankly up at the castle, the waves crashing around her knees. Erod looked back and, seeing her pushed down by one of the waves, waded back in to fetch her. He picked her up in both arms, cradling her, and carried her to shore as he might a small child at bedtime.
All three of us sat on the sand, shivering in the morning sun as the water lapped at our boots. I took off my pack and jacket, spreading them out over the beach to dry, and then lay back, heaving. Erod sat with his arms resting on his knees, breathing hard, looking up at the enormous tower before us.
But Jade did not sit for long. As soon as she had breath, she was drawn upward by the call of the great castle. She took a few steps away from us and then stood, transfixed and staring.
“Jade,” I called. “You should rest.” She ignored me.
She didn’t move except for the occasional uncontrollable shivering jolt of her body.
“What is wrong with her?” he asked.
The horrors that Jade had been subjected to over the past two hundred years could have filled a book. There was no easy way to explain this, so I said nothing. Instead I hoisted myself up and walked over to stand with her. I looked up at the castle as the last mist of morning was fading away.
“Do you think he’s there?” I said softly.
She didn’t respond.
The structure was unlike any I had ever seen. Once a cliff face, stoneworkers had cut into the solid rock, carving out the castle from the mass instead of building it from the ground. The outer face of the mountain was still rough and jagged with ancient stone, left untouched by the workers. But hundreds of windows were hollowed out, their edges ornately decorated by the master stonesmen. High atop the tallest spire a ragged, soiled flag fluttered in the wind. It bore Almara’s symbol.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I hadn’t heard Erod approach behind us, and I started. He inhaled a deep breath of sea air and raised his face towards the sun. “Good to be home.”
The steady beat of the waves on the shore were, at first, the only sounds of the morning. But slowly a humming began to creep into my ears. Thinking it was the noise of a bee, I waved my hands around my head, trying to shoo the stinging pest in a different direction. But soon the humming became so loud that I realized no insect could be making it. A few moments later, my ears began to throb with the vibration, and I clapped my hands over them. Erod followed suit a moment later. But Jade stood still in her trance as she took in the castle.
BOOM.
From the castle a tremendous blast radiated out in all directions, knocking all three of us to the ground. A shock wave thirty feet high glowed just brighter than the morning mist, and it rolled over the beach and raced out to sea. Beneath it the water was drawn upwards as if to a magnet, creating a low, powerful wave many miles long. I wondered if the crew back on the ship were prepared for another battering.
I shook my head vigorously back and forth, trying to clear the slight ring that the sound had left in my ears.
“What was that?” I asked to no one in particular. I was surprised when it was Jade who answered.
“Torrensai.”
Erod and I glanced at one another.
Jade got to her feet and began walking towards the castle. I grabbed my pack and started after her.
“Jade, where are you going?” I said, panting as I struggled to keep up. “Come on, we don’t know if it’s safe to go in there yet. If that was another Torrensai then it’s almost definitely not safe. Jade!” I grabbed her arm and swung her around, forcing her green eyes to meet mine. They narrowed, breaking for a moment the haze that had overcome her.
“This is my home,” she said, her voice quiet and dangerous. “Whatever is going on in there, I want to see it for myself. It is my birthright.”
“Whoever, or whatever, is making the Torrensai isn’t going to care about your birthright.”
She raised her eyebrows and turned on her heels, striding towards a rough staircase cut in the steep rock face at the edge of the beach.
“Ugh!” I bellowed.
But I followed her.
“Jade, you’re not thinking clearly! We need to rest and regroup, talk about what we’re going to do next.” My begging only resulted in her speed increasing.
Erod caught up with us.
“Torrensai are most dangerous on the water,” he told me as we trudged through the sand. “It won’t be as bad on the land. You needn’t worry so much about an attack now.”
“It’s not the Torrensai I’m worried about,” I said.
It was whoever was behind them.
But, despite my desperate need for her to consider caution, I understood. Her home, magnificent and real and so, so close, drew her to it, promising relief from all of her pain. It could be another Cadoc up there. But she didn’t care. To her, it was worth the risk.
The stairs slowed her down, and both of us were soon too winded to argue. The top of the cliff was at least five hundred feet above our heads. On flat ground I could run, and fast. But climbing up a mountain took substantially more effort than racing across a level plain.
Erod seemed to barely notice the steep climb. He walked confidently up the steps as if they were no more than a slight inconvenience. Jade and I fell into step beside one another, slowly dragging our tired bodies upwards.
What seemed like hours later, we collapsed, our chests heaving, at the top of the staircase. I wasn’t cold anymore, that was for sure, but my clothes were still damp enough to feel cool on my body. Jade and I lay back for several minutes, catching our breath, while Erod stood impatiently over us. His eyes scoured the road that ran in front of the castle, and a look of great concern came over his face.
“There’s nobody here,” he said, pacing. “Where have they all gone?”
As my breathing steadied, I pushed myself to my elbows and looked around.
The granite road was deserted, and it looked like it had been for a long time. Down the road in the distance, I saw the gates of the city swung wide. Whoever had fled, or arrived, hadn’t thought it necessary to lock up.
Jade stood up and trained her eyes on the towering mass of stone above us. One window in particular seemed to dominate her gaze, and a moment later her little feet were flying across the stone towards the nearest entrance to the castle.
Like the gates, the great wood and iron doors to the castle were open. She slipped between them and vanished into the mountain. I ran after her, willing my exhausted body to keep up. Erod’s enormous feet plodded the stone as he followed us.
“Jade! Wait up!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice quiet. This place may look empty, but until we knew for sure there was no need to broadcast our arrival. But she contin
ued on, ignoring my request.
I pushed through the door and stopped, unable to keep myself from gaping at the magnificent hall I had just stepped into.
The interior of the castle was colossal. The ceiling stretched several hundred feet above our heads, and as each pebble that flung out beneath Jade’s flying feet found the floor again, a shower of echoing taps bounced off the smooth walls. Every surface was the same cold, blue stone of the mountain, just as it had been cut so long ago. Sunlight shone in magnificent beams from what seemed like a thousand windows overhead, and as Jade ran, thin plumes of dust raised in her wake, swirling in the morning light.
Erod stood in the entrance, a combination of relief and worry on his face. He knew this place, but had never known it like this.
Across from the entrance, a great, curving staircase was carved into the stone, each spindle in the railing a masterpiece of strength and art united.
Jade made for the stairs, too far away to bother or care about my protests.
I shook myself. I had to stay focused, to follow her. I went after her as fast as my spent body would allow. I climbed to the top and stumbled into the hallway she had disappeared into.
It was darker up here, the rooms less grand than the entrance hall, but all still ornately, lovingly carved.
“Jade!” I called out in a tense whisper. I poked my head into each room as I searched the empty caverns of what was once her home.
It didn’t take long to find her, her flight halted. She stood in one of the smaller rooms and stared out the window. The sound of the wind whistling through the hall and my labored breathing were all that filled the space. I walked to her side.
“Don’t do that,” I complained. “You can’t just run off like that. What if something—”
But I stopped abruptly when I saw the giant tears that were streaming down her face.
I sighed.
“Jade,” I began.