by Danny Lasko
The Soul tells me to run.
I grab the Mirastory and bolt out of the room and into a courtyard. I fix on a flight of stairs that leads to the highest tower of the palace. I hesitate, knowing that’s not the way out. But I’m not about to reject these feelings. Not anymore.
I leap up the stairs, taking them three or four at a time, until I come to a single door, locked. But not for long. I pull my sword from its sheath and hack away at the dark wood. Doesn’t take long for the door to lie in pieces. Except where the morning light seeps in through the doorway, the room is dark.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” shouts a small man dressed in the same silver and black as the other non-council wizards popping out of the shadows. “Where’d you get that?” he asks, seeing the book. “That’s never meant to leave its room! You can’t take it!”
With speed I have never seen before, this little man literally bounces off the walls toward me and kicks me out of the door and nearly off the ledge outside. I manage to grab the rail just as I flip over it and swing myself back in. The speed wizard strikes me from every angle, causing me to carom off the walls. After five or six times, I get his pattern and am able to knock him off course, delaying his next hit. That’s all the time I need. I use my power. In another flash, the little man lies unconscious on the ground in front me.
I take a minute to catch my breath and survey the room one last time, realizing it’s empty. Why would the little wizard go crazy about an intruder to an empty room? And why was I led here?
“Horatio?” calls a weak, timid voice, not much more than a whisper, trailing somewhere in the dark. It chills me to my soul. Though I have never heard that voice so small and frail, I know whose it is.
The room isn’t that big, but it’s dark. I search every last inch of it, twice, but there’s no one here. I find a pair of curtains and swing them open to find a stained glass window. I toss it open, but not much light seeps through. Did I imagine it? No, I know what I heard. And I’m not leaving her behind.
“Show me where you are!”
“Horatio … ”
I look up, and in the faint light I see her, strung up and facedown in a web of rope, her head and dangling blond hair drooping from the end of her neck.
“I’ve got you,” I say as I reach her and cut her loose from the sticky web. “I’ve got you, Lara.”
Lara, my assistant from the League. Lara, who tried to warn me. Lara, whom I left behind. I try to cover her with the tattered rags she wears. It looks like the remnants of those I last saw her in. Yes, the silver and blue to match my Knights uniform. I tear down the curtains and wrap her snugly.
She is as frail as her voice, which she keeps trying to use, but it’s hard to understand her.
“You’ve got to go. … They’ll see. They’ll see.”
“Yeah, we’re going.”
“You’ve got to go. They’ll see. … I see.”
“It’s okay,” I say, picking her up. “It’s okay. You can tell me when we get out of here.”
“I’ll tell you now, Horatio,” says Boxrud, standing at the doorway with at least a dozen other wizards. “Just in the unlikely event that you do not, as you say, get out of here.”
I back away to the far wall and set Lara down, unsheathe the sword, and make my stand between her and the Wizard King.
“Better yet,” he continues, “I’ll show you.”
Lara screams behind me, and suddenly the room bursts into light. Dozens of images on the walls all show the same thing. Lara. Then Boxrud. Then the screens on the walls show screens on the walls, like a never-ending tunnel. Whatever I’m looking at, the images mirror it. Lara. Lara’s my second sight. And somehow, they’ve been able to transfer it for anyone to see. Just like the goggles at the edge of the woods.
“You and I want the same things, Horatio Gaph,” says Boxrud, noticing the Mirastory under my arm. “We both want to save Allen and this world.”
“No, we don’t, Boxrud,” I answer back.
“I gave you my word, they will be safe. Do you doubt my word?”
I shake my head. “It’s all connected, Anton. We’re all part of Mira. Whether or not you believe that doesn’t change it.”
“I give you one last chance, Horatio Gaph. Join the Wizard King, the only side who has the power to save or end Allen.”
“It’s not too late, Anton. You can help restore the Soul, protect Mira. And save earth. The Piper sent us here for that.”
“He stole us!” screams Boxrud. “Ripped us from our families and loved ones! Left us here to fend off the greedy and cowardly! He stole us!”
The realization hits me square in the face.
“You weren’t … you weren’t lost. You were one of the first. You were born in Mira!”
“Took us! We had no choice! And he left that Berebus Pock behind to guard the way? That crippled, naive cretin?!”
“You can go back,” I say, calmly. “All the children can go back.”
“Go back? To the Piper? To Mira? The world I knew is dead! No. Neither I nor you will ever go back.”
He reaches behind and pulls from a sheath a music pipe made of old dark wood, marked with two crows sharing the same branch. My heart skips. I start for him, but immediately a half dozen wizards flank their king.
“You will never find him.”
“Boxrud … ” But my hope has left me.
He smiles, twirling the music pipe–the Auravel, as the Piper called it–expertly in his hands. Auravel. “I wish you could see what I have in store for this, Horatio. It really is quite poetic.”
“You can’t use it, Boxrud, you know you can’t.”
“Use it?!” screams Boxrud. “I am the Wizard King!” The anger shakes his low, hissing voice. He lets his breath return to normal before he continues. “It is not a tool. It is a trifle. Yes, a threat—and must therefore be destroyed.”
“What? No!” I yell, raising my sword. The wizards press toward me until Boxrud holds his hand up to stop them. He opens his arms, beckoning me to join him, to become his guiding angel. I don’t move. He sighs.
“I have Annie Walker.”
The sword goes loose in my hands. I am suddenly overwhelmed with the sick feeling that comes with the realization of making the wrong choice. The one I made leaving her.
“The Children have lost. Allen has lost. You, Horatio, have lost. Joining me is the only way I don’t cut the song from the girl’s throat.”
“Anton,” I say, trying to find the words but knowing they fall on deaf ears. “Anton, you are a Child of Mira. Mira is real. The people who need us are real. Their lives are just as valuable. We can save both. You and I, the wizards, the Children. We can save them both.”
“You know so little,” he says blankly, and with a little less than a twitch of his eyebrow, he signals his wizards to attack. A dozen of them at least. I flash forward and see at least a hundred wizards coming through the door. I can’t defeat a hundred wizards, not without first collapsing with exhaustion. I flash forward again but this time with escape as the goal. The window. I flash forward and see a way, but my vision has decided to be vague. All it tells me is that we live.
I spin around, swiping my sword through the stained glass window, shattering it. Two charging wizards suffer a fist and a kick to their respective heads before I can pick Lara up and make my way to the window.
Serefina throws a searing stream of fire, but it simply breaks against the sword’s shield, ricocheting away from us. The only way out is a two-hundred-foot drop.
“You’d think I’d learn,” I say to Lara while the fire swirls around us. “Seems like the only way to move forward is to fall down.”
“Horatio … I’m … ”
Two robed wizards leap out, firing streams of light that crackle through th
e air just as I let gravity pull us out of the window. The sudden burning in my forearm screams at me, forcing me to lose my grip on Lara. We’re falling fast, alone. I grab her wrist and pull her back in, wrapping her tight against my body. But something’s wrong. The warm wash of the shield hits me over and over again. The lightning has shorted out the force shield! There’s nothing I can do but hope there’s enough juice left by the time we hit the ground.
It sounds worse than it is. The crack of the guard against the rocky shores saves us. Still, slamming against the rocks and trying to cushion Lara from the fall with my own girth, I’m sucking wind and coughing. My chest hurts. That can’t be good. Lara’s unconscious but still breathing. I look up but can’t see the window we jumped from well enough to see if they’re watching. I have to assume they are.
The green book lies beside me, relatively undamaged. My sword isn’t as fortunate. Fractured into a dozen pieces. I fall to my knees beside it, picking up one of the shards carrying the last half of the Latin inscription. The lightning, impact and the weakened shield were too much for it.
I hear the waves crashing on the rocks nearby. I can hear my awkward breathing. But the rest of the world goes silent, and my heart sinks. I am naked in the storm without hope of cover.
“Horatio … ”
Lara’s voice whispers me back. There isn’t time to gather up the pieces of the sword. I slip the one piece into my pocket and the book into my father’s sheath, which stretches easily to fit its new treasure. I clamber to my feet and wrestle Lara up over my shoulder. We head off across the rocky shores, trying to put as much distance as possible between us and the wizard’s castle.
The sun is up, but it faces the far end of the island. At least I have my bearings again. I don’t know how big this island is, but I know that the castle is on its southern shore. There is very little that I can do to save our lives other than run. I’m outnumbered with no weapon, and I don’t even know where to begin to see the future. I can see only the consequences of my actions, and I don’t know how to act. Each step I take simply leads to other steps. I focus on my flash, but I can’t see any more than fifteen seconds no matter what I try.
“It was a trick,” whispers Lara. “One of the wizard council … a mind changer … ”
“Mind changer. I don’t know what that is.”
“Can … put images into your mind … ”
“Like Jayce.” I steady myself, try to shake it off. But it overwhelms me. I’m tired. I’m lost. And I’m scared.
I have to keep moving. I don’t know how long Lara has been part of this plot, but clearly somewhere along the line, they forced her to watch me. But that’s over now. As soon as I realized she was the second sight, I broke the connection. Her weight is growing heavy. I’m losing her. I slow down to stop, but the howl of a large group of wild animals echoing off the cliff walls tells me that’s not a possibility. Wolves.
I’ve never liked dogs. Wolves, dingos, chihuahuas, whatever. It’s the barking more than anything. Just so loud and distracting. Screaming at me for no other reason than the fact that I exist and they don’t like it and want me to know it. I set Lara down behind me, propped between a tree and a rock, and I step down the rough path the way we came. I look around at my surroundings—lots of rocks, a few palm trees. I rip the sleeves off the white shirt I’m wearing and tear them into long strips.
I find twelve round, smooth rocks about half the size of my fist and lay them in their own long white strip of cloth. I bring the cloth ends together and pick up two of them, the stones resting in the bend of the cloth at the bottom. Homemade slings.
The first two wolves pop from the rocky path, their mouths curled around their frothy fangs, dripping with anger. With a sling in each hand, I whip two rocks that both find their targets right between the eyes. They drop immediately, squealing in pain.
I don’t miss. It’s part of my power.
I pick up two more slings, and two more wolves fall by the wayside. They’re being controlled by some wizard safely tucked away behind stone walls. I get that. It’s just that they look so eager to carry out the orders!
They’re getting smart now. I count eight left, surrounding me, abandoning the frontal attack. I don’t have my sword. And though I wish it weren’t so, my flesh is just as vulnerable as Lara’s.
Two more stones slung, two more wolves down. Before I can reload, the remaining six wolves charge me. I flash forward, but there’s no way to avoid all sets of fangs. I feel the teeth sink into my right shoulder, another biting into my left thigh. As quickly as I can fend one off, another one takes its place. Then I see a large black charging for Lara. I throw off the two still holding onto the meat of my back and leap. I grab the hind leg and pull the wolf away, his jaws snapping at Lara’s bare feet. It turns on me and latches onto my right arm. It triggers something. The rage against every unfair thing in the world I’ve come to know in my life overflows within me and bleeds tears through my eyes. I grab the wolf by its neck and squeeze, powered by my anger.
The wolf squeals and lets go almost immediately. I keep squeezing through its whimper. I search its eyes for that same fear, that same look of confusion. And I find it. Scared for its life. I’ve won. And the only question left to ask is whether I’m as much an animal as he is.
I’m not. I relax my grip, enough to lessen the pain but not the hold. It doesn’t try to run. I set him on the ground and release him, but it simply lies there. The other wolves, now all conscious, follow. No barking, no frothy fangs or curled lips or rigid tails. Just submissive mounds of black and white and gray.
They’ve surrendered. Each pair of eyes watches me, but none of them show any threat. I pick up the strips of my sleeves.
“You’re hurt,” coughs Lara, pawing at my wounds. She barely has the strength to lift her hand.
“Come on,” I say, lifting her. “We’re getting out of here.”
The wolves skulk into the dense greenery of the island, the opposite of the way they entered. I can only think that either they resent the one who sent them into this battle or they know what’s in store for them if they return as failures.
I carry Lara inland but close enough to the shore to keep a pretty good volume of breaking waves. Lara keeps yammering in fits of fever and delusion. She doesn’t have long.
I find a freshwater stream and a cave with enough overgrowth to give us some cover. I lower Lara into the stream, hoping the cold water will bring down the fever. I don’t know what I’m doing. I never really paid attention in health class. I always had trainers and pills and Hamelin healers, I suppose, to make me better. In a million years, I never thought I’d be trying to figure out how to save someone’s life from torture. I wash my own wounds and bandage them as best I can with the strips of my shirt. They won’t last. I’m starting to feel a sting in each of the bites, like a sizzling venom. I try not to think about it. Whatever I’ve suffered, it’s nothing compared to what Lara’s been through.
It doesn’t take long before I let the unknown tighten around my heart and pull her from the stream and into the hidden cave. A lot more animals than just wolves can track a scent. Lara’s shivering now, and all I have is half a shirt to try to wrap her in. Does nothing, but it’s all I have. I am outside the cave searching through every possible move, trying to find the one that leads to escape from this island. The best I can do is not to get caught today. I could really use a little long-term perspective. I even sit and attempt to control my fear and breathing and listen within. Listen for the Soul’s direction. But even that is silent.
I try to look for a way to steal the shuttle that brought me here, but I can’t see that far out to even know where to look for it. I climb the hill above the cliff and hope from the height I can see something—anything—that will point the way. But there’s nothing but blue water and green growth as far as I can see. The ache in my gut doub
les me over while I catch my breath. I wish I could say it was because the climb was tough. But it’s not. It’s because someone’s about to lose her life because I was stupid.
“Horatio … ” I can hear her calling me before I get back to the cave. I leap down the rest of the hill and barge through the opening, ready for a battle. But the only intruder is the same one that’s been lurking around Lara for a while now. The one I don’t know how to fight.
“Horatio … ” she wheezes. I take her hand.
“So sorry,” she says, “So sorry … was a setup from … start … ”
“I know.”
“It’s why … you got the offer … ”
“It’s okay, Lara. I know.”
“No! You have to hear.” She pushes away my hand that was trying to wipe the sweat off her brow. “I’m not going to die without trying to make it right.”
She relaxes a little when I move my hand.
“A wizard followed you growing up. Watched you play. Watched you do everything. Told us about the Grey at The Escape. That’s when he knew you got the Call. After you and I connected, we could follow you everywhere. But I was sorry. I knew you were good. From the beginning. I wanted to come with you. Ran after you when you were rescued. Was sent here and forced to follow you. I’m so sorry, Horatio … ”
Lara’s body relaxes, and her eyes close. I nearly put her down, but she bolts back awake, grabbing at my arm.
“Find the Looking Glass!”
“I will,” I say, “before Boxrud can destroy it.”
“Already knows,” she says, shaking her head.
“What?”
“Boxrud … searched for centuries … found it thirteen years ago. Tried to destroy it. But he couldn’t. Couldn’t open the seal. Did the next best thing.” Her eyes wander.