Dare to Believe: Teen & Young Adult Epic Fantasy Bundle (Series Bundle Andy Smithson Bk 4, 5 & 6): Dragons, Serpents, Unicorns, Pegasus, Pixies, Trolls, Dwarfs, Knights and More!

by L. R. W. Lee

  “By what guiding principles will you rule Oomaldee?”

  “What’s it say?” the centaurs asked in unison.

  Dignity and honor. That’s what Sir Gawain represented. But I want more…

  Andy pulled his shoulders back and held his chin high. “I love Oomaldee. I love the people.” He paused as memories flooded his mind. “We are only as strong as the love we share. I believe everyone should be treated with dignity, and I’ll do that—I’ll respect and deal fairly with everyone. We must also each be responsible for our actions. When we’re responsible, we control our future, no one else. But we also have to be diligent because that’s what gets stuff done.” Andy had been preparing for this moment for the last six years. Father’s mantra of responsibility, diligence, and dignity being the keys to success in life was no longer jargon. Each word oozed with meaning. “I may not always succeed, but I’ll try my best.”

  Lorica drew a hand over her heart. “You’ll make a fine king, Prince Andrew.”

  A white daisy floated down from above and landed on the display case next to Andy.

  The two centaurs looked to the ceiling, eyes darting about randomly. “Where’d that come from?” Lorica asked.

  “Not sure, but it’s not the first time something like that’s happened to me.”

  Lorica picked up the flower and inhaled its scent. “Daisies are my favorite. Nearly every flower has a meaning. Do you know what daisies symbolize?”

  “No.” Andy rubbed a finger across his temple.

  “They represent new beginnings and also true love.” Lorica flicked her brows at Malcolm, who grinned then turned serious.

  “It seems appropriate for it to appear, Andy. This is a new beginning. You’re going to restore Oomaldee’s heart. And once you do…” The centaurs closed their eyes and bobbed their heads.

  Andy wanted to ask what more they knew, but Malcolm interrupted the thought. “I count it a privilege to know you. Except for a nasty habit of eating all the green M&Ms, you’ve got what it takes to rule well.”

  Andy chuckled, but the unsolicited words warmed his heart. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

  Lorica added, “You’ve heard the ‘He loves me, he loves me not’ chant?”

  Andy nodded.

  “A daisy is really two flowers blended together. That’s why you always do it with a daisy.”

  Andy remembered the first white flower landing on the desk at home. It arrived after he read about Merlin infusing love into the wood of the Round Table.

  New beginnings with people I love. Andy smiled.

  “Hey! What’s going on?” Lorica pointed behind Andy.

  He pivoted. A trickle of daisies rained from the ceiling on the far side of the room. “Ha! Maybe we’ll find what I’m looking for over there?”

  Malcolm stole a kiss from Lorica and Andy felt his ears warm. Andy wove his way around and between the unmoving crowd.

  The trickle of daisies became a steady stream that morphed into a deluge. “A little help over here,” Andy laughed as symbols of love buried him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  A New Heartbeat

  Having never experienced a blizzard, Andy only imagined the texture of falling snow as soft white blossoms inundated him. He batted at the blooms to no avail and finally surrendered, laying back on the cushy pile much like he’d done after raking leaves in the fall.

  “Andy?” Lorica’s voice was muffled.

  “Where are you, Andy?” Malcolm.

  “Under here!”

  A minute later fluorescent light peeked into the cocoon of snowy petals. Malcolm extended a hand and pulled Andy upright. Daisies clung to his equine quarters and from his hair. Lorica’s too.

  A worn wooden table bearing no resemblance to the modern glass-topped display cases stood in the corner before them.

  “Hey, where’d this come from?” Lorica leaned forward.

  “You’ve never seen it before?” Andy brushed stray foliage aside and bent to examine the parchment secured by its four corners.

  She shook her head.

  The page bore da Vinci’s legendary mirrored handwriting just like the others. But Andy’s heart leapt when he spotted the detailed drawing of an elaborate heart-shaped mechanism in the margin. He pulled his backpack off and extracted the three pieces, laying them on the table.

  Careful study of the drawing showed Andy how they aligned. He picked up two pieces and positioned them accordingly but they didn’t seem to fit. He tried to match the third piece with either of the first two, to the same end.

  “Can you read any of his handwriting?” Andy queried.

  “I don’t read Italian, but this might help.” Lorica extracted a small makeup mirror from her saddlebag. Malcolm again flicked his brows and Andy swore her cheeks grew rosier. “Try this. It’ll translate and reverse it for you.”

  Holding the mirror above the writing, Andy squinted, encouraging da Vinci’s chicken scratch to reveal its secrets. He couldn’t make out every word, but several spoke to pivoting and lining one thing up with another. Andy felt like he was solving one of those metal mind-teaser puzzles. He held the third piece up to one of the rounded parts at a ninety degree angle. Doing so revealed how a pin fit into a socket in the rounded one. Da Vinci’s instructions indicated he should do the same with the other piece. As the parts slid into each other it became clear how the two rounded pieces joined. He pressed the trio of parts flat.

  Click. The sound, like a lock settling into place, emanated from Andy’s hands.

  “You did it!” Malcolm celebrated. “Well done!”

  “I did it! I did it! I put Oomaldee’s heart back together.”

  Lorica stood with hands covering her mouth. Seeing her expression brought perspective to the enormity and significance of the feat, and Andy felt his legs go weak. I did it…

  Malcolm slid an arm around Lorica’s waist and pulled her close, then leaned in and nuzzled her hair. In a low voice he said, “We can finally bond.”

  Lorica nodded, a tear trailing down her cheek. She turned and embraced Malcolm, who pulled her to his broad chest.

  “We had just been pledged to each other when calamity struck Oomaldee and its heart ceased to function.” He ran his thumb over Lorica’s cheek. “The situation was grave, and despite the sacrifice, we agreed we needed to help in whatever way we could—what ended up being this assignment for the last five hundred years.”

  Lorica breathed deeply and sniffed, never loosening her embrace.

  “I’ve thought of her every day, wondered if—when—the assignment would end.” He rubbed her back.

  Andy choked out, “You both love the land very much. Your sacrifice—”

  “We were happy to make it if it means Oomaldee’s heart can beat again,” Lorica intoned.

  “So you’ll be heading back to Oomaldee?”

  “As soon as we drop you back home.” Turning to Lorica, Malcolm asked, “Unless you want to go somewhere else.”

  The she-centaur shook her head. “No. I’m ready to start our life together.”

  Malcolm planted a kiss on her lips.

  “Enough already!” Andy protested, feeling his eyes burn. “W.T.M.I. Waaayyy too much information!”

  The trio cracked up.

  *****

  Andy’s fifteenth birthday, June 6, had come and gone a week ago. He turned the mechanical heart over in his hand as he lay stretched out on the picnic table, alone with the stars in the backyard tonight.

  I actually put this back together. The thought still brought a sense of calm. Diligent, loyal, honorable, and dignified. Someone thinks I’m those things. I sure didn’t used to be. Andy’s breath caught in his throat. I don’t know. I still don’t feel ready to rule. Good thing I don’t have to.

  Andy’s stomach twisted. He’d assumed that once he fitted the pieces back together he would go straight back to Oomaldee and rescue Father. But things hadn’t happened that way. Mom had come and gone twice more. His ready-to-go backpack with the
pouch and holster lay next to him.

  I won’t let you die, Father.

  His thoughts returned to something Malcolm said. He’d called the stars a huge data dump overflowing with information. They looked like gobbledygook to Andy and didn’t tell him anything, certainly not when he would be returning.

  He spotted Cygnus, the constellation of the swan. He’d taken a liking to it, remembering the phoenix’s encouragement as she swooped and dove, trumpeting a mournful cry above Yara’s pyre:

  “In the testing beneath Giant’s Ring that restored Cromlech’s center of power, Princess Yara declined position and pleasure, choosing rather to offer her life for her country’s healing—and for me.”

  “I’ll do the same.” Despite Andy’s commitment, guilt again twisted its knife deeper into his gut. Yara’s dead because of me.

  He sat up. “I’ve got to get back and rescue you, Father!”

  Whether by force of will or some other power, Andy didn’t know. But the instant he shouted his commitment, the stars abandoned the sky as everything went black.

  The weathered, moss-covered boards bowed and groaned as Andy thudded to a stop. A bullfrog’s croak was the only welcoming party. A stench hit him, much like when Mom accidently left a gallon of milk in her SUV and it exploded in the Texas heat. “Ulph.” He breathed through his mouth and brushed sticky slickness from his hands as he sat up.

  Deep gray tones filled the sky and made it difficult to see the rotting planks under him, let alone their supports.

  Methuselah.

  As always happened when entering Oomaldee, the sword appeared in his hand an instant later. Extend. The thought made the blade lengthen. It illuminated of its own accord and his surroundings came into focus. Light shone off a glassy surface just below where he stood. A dock. A rowboat slumbered on a rope tether just feet away. The water, while murky, seemed shallow.

  Holding the blade up, Andy spied the outline of a ramshackle cabin on stilts through the mist. A winding dock connected him to the dwelling. The gentle breeze made the boughs of ancient trees sigh as if complaining about the aches of old age.

  Andy squinted and could make out the silhouettes of a dozen more cabins. A bat shrieked as it dove after a morsel, making him jump. He pivoted, looking for adversaries.

  Where am I? Where’s Castle Ferrin?

  A light went on in the cabin as an owl hooted. Crap! Andy looked for a place to hide, but he found nothing before a burly vulture-man in royal blue livery emerged. The man wore a sword on one hip. A dagger hung from a belt on the opposite side. Spotting Andy with raised weapon, the bird-man drew his sword.

  “Friend or foe?” the man bellowed.

  “That depends on who you serve.”

  “My loyalty lies with the rightful sovereign of this land, his majesty King Hercalon V. Who are you?”

  “I’m Andy. Andy Smithson.” He exhaled and retracted his blade.

  “Prince Andrew?” The man squinted and his mouth curved upward. “Prince Andrew!” He took a knee and bowed.

  Andy approached.

  Looking up, the man apologized, “You probably don’t recognize me since I’ve been changed. I’m Trevig.”

  “Trevig?” Andy studied him for a second before recognition dawned. Trevig had taught him to wield an axe when Razen, the castle steward, once ordered him to chop wood as a punishment. “I’m sorry. Rise…please.” The command sounded weird to Andy even as he said it.

  “What are you doing here?” Trevig questioned.

  “I could ask you the same,” Andy laughed, hoping to change the subject. The less Trevig knew about Andy’s dual-world citizenship, the better.

  “What? Oh, this?” He motioned toward the cabin. “Me and the missus got nabbed. Those rogues changed us, so we figured we’d live outside the castle walls—nothing worse could happen to us.”

  Andy closed his eyes and shook his head, empathizing.

  Trevig sighed. “Nothing to be done about it now.”

  Andy frowned and bobbed his head, despite disagreeing with the sentiment.

  “I suppose you’re looking for Castle Ferrin?”

  “I am.”

  “I’m headed there myself. It’s not far.”

  Castle Ferrin is in a swamp? Really? Andy scratched his head.

  The dock shuddered and moaned as Trevig approached. He eased his frame into the rowboat. Andy grabbed his backpack, which had landed beside him, and accepted Trevig’s extended hand.

  Seated in the stern, Andy watched the man crawl over the first seat using his stumpy bird legs. Andy grabbed the gunwale as the dingy pitched. “Sorry about that,” Trevig apologized once he perched on the middle bench. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be completely used to this new body.”

  “No problem. I understand.”

  Swiveling the oars with overly long arms seemed easier for the vulture-man as he eased the boat away from the dock and down a watery street of hovels. Thick undergrowth jutted up between them. Trevig rowed beneath husky branches from which twisting vines hung down. More lights came on, and sounds of activity drifted out to greet the pair as they moved past. The sky painted the fog light pink as dawn approached.

  “It’s been a lot of work getting the castle in livable condition.” Trevig attempted conversation.

  “I bet.”

  Silence loomed for several strokes until Andy asked, “Any word on the pegasi? Are they being fed and cared for?”

  “I don’t know. Zolt don’t need them to fly, so…” A heavy sigh followed.

  Daisy could find out. She could talk to the pegasi on the whisper stream. Andy made a mental note.

  “Goozy Bog has been extending its tentacles over the last five hundred years. At least that’s what Mermin says. He said all this used to be dry ground.”

  Andy nodded.

  Several minutes later, Andy spotted a pillar topped by a knight on horseback peeking through a tangle of branches and vines ahead. Under the lightening sky he could tell the moss-colored stone used to be white. Only a few feet from that, a mammoth spider statue prowled across the treetops from its perch atop another pillar.

  The purple crest! Andy remembered the black leather holster in the trunk. It bore the same symbols: a spider at the top, a knight on horseback beneath, separated by a wavy line.

  Rounding a bend, the dense canopy of trees cleared and a dingy white stone wall loomed before them. Rocks brushed the hull a second before they stopped.

  Andy’s eyes went wide.

  “Yeah, kinda comes up quick,” Trevig laughed as he twisted, slid off the seat, and splashed into the ankle-deep murk. He dragged the craft ashore then helped Andy get out.

  A circular barbican rose before them, a good fifteen feet tall. As the pair approached, several royal-blue uniformed soldiers peered down from its top, arrows nocked.

  Trevig greeted the pair of soldiers who stood guard behind the iron gate. “Morning, Carac. Morning, Hadrian.”

  “Trevig,” the muscular man Andy took to be Hadrian answered.

  “Who you got with you?” Carac questioned.

  “None other than Prince Andrew.”

  The pair snapped their heads then squinted to examine Andy more closely. “Well, I’ll be! It is Prince Andrew!” They each took a knee and bowed.

  Andy smiled. Memories of previous arrivals and rough interrogations at the hands of skeptical soldiers flashed to mind. Progress. “Thank you. Please…rise.” Andy shifted at his command.

  “What are you doing out there and not in here? Where have you been? I don’t remember seeing you around.” Hadrian fired off questions in quick succession.

  Trevig brushed the inquiries aside with a swat of his meaty hand. “Not sure myself. I found him outside my door this morning.”

  The three men turned and Andy felt his face warm. He cleared his throat. “I just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

  Heads tilted but no one proved bold enough to question further.

  “Raise the portcullis!” Carac
boomed when he realized no further explanation would be forthcoming.

  “Thanks,” Trevig intoned as he and Andy made their way toward a second white wall, this one towering a good twenty feet above the first. A dozen soldiers guarded the hulking wooden gate that punctuated the stone.

  Word spread fast that the prince was near, for each uniformed man took a knee and bowed as Andy approached. “Thank you for your service.” Andy had heard the phrase used once when he was at an airport. Someone had addressed a pair of uniformed servicemen. He thought the sentiment was cool at the time, and it had stuck with him.

  The double doors lumbered open, and Andy and Trevig passed through to a second portcullis that rose a minute later. They followed an arched tunnel, coming out into a grassy, fog-clouded courtyard. Three- and four-story buildings bulged from the walls. A royal-blue pennant fluttered from each of the four corner towers.

  “Would you like me to show you around?” Trevig offered.

  “Yes. Please.”

  The muscular man began his tour at the community well, which was much like those in other Oomaldee communities. Buckets teetered from the stone sides. Three liveried servants pulled water from its depths as Andy and Trevig passed. One of them sported abnormally long arms and bulging eyes. Andy noted their drawn faces and lack of chatter. They turned toward Andy and bowed as they recognized him.

  Andy waved but they returned somber stares. The quiet was deafening despite several folks ambling about doing chores of one sort or another.

  Several paces further and Andy’s guide motioned toward an entrance in the building on the left. Andy missed whatever Trevig said next, for a towering contraption to his right grabbed his attention.

  “What’s that?” Andy asked.

  “Mermin said it’s a tribute from a time when Oomaldee’s technological prowess was hailed by every nation around. I guess it used to move.”

  Is it Oomaldee’s center? Andy’s stomach fluttered at the possibility.