by Cara Violet
“What?”
“Told me Princess Archibel of the Sari is alive, too.”
“So what does that mean for us?” Lafael said. “Don’t we have to get to Janjuc?”
“The Sprites are contained, for now, plus we’ve got the cruisers setting up an attack,” Owen said “whereas the Harpies have no warning. And I really want to find out about what this Aquamorph Assembly is up to. What are his plans? I want to surprise this tainted ally.”
“Where to then, captain?” Everett said.
“Whidal.”
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Ice City Part Two
Twenty-five hundred clicks of the Vector generator and they still couldn’t form an exit to the Vector they’d gone through on Rivalex.
Darayan felt like he was in limbo. The stars rolling past them at lightning sped seemed never-ending. Had it been days or weeks since they’d been stuck in this contraption? With little food and water left, they needed an escape. Darayan wasn’t even sure just where they were. This road surely led to Holom, as the Felrin folk told. Or did it? Perhaps they were already in Holom and didn’t even know?
“Any luck?” Darayan asked Materid.
“Luck? We need more than that,” Materid said deep under the floor of the hull and working on the Vector generator. “What I just don’t understand is how we can’t open this thing. I mean it should have sent us to Holom by now and it hasn’t.”
“Are you sure it hasn’t?” Bodel piped up from behind them. “I feel like we are in the depths of the Defeated King’s misery already.” She crumpled into her chair and moaned. “I mean we have three rations of food left and I’ve run out of rum.”
“What did Sali say to you again?” Materid poked his head out of the floor, staring at Darayan.
“Only one can enter … Go sir … Miss Archibel is on Whidal, her life set to end.” Darayan repeated.
“Hmm,” Materid gave him a hard, quizzical glance. “You going to tell us about that Liege yet or not?”
“Yeah,” Bodel cut in, “who the Holom are you? We’re not stupid, we know you’re lying.”
“Look,” Darayan said earnestly, glancing between them, “I’m still the same person, I just had a different name and was living a different life.” It took him a minute to find composure. He knew it was time for them to hear the truth, no matter how badly he’d tried to conceal it. “My real name is Darayan,” he began, their eyes intently on him, “and I am of Gorgon descent—like Levon said. I grew up alongside Princess Kaianan of the Gorgon and was just concerned she needed my help. I didn’t want to put you in danger because of it though … I’m sorry.”
“Why would she need your help …?” Materid paused, then ushered out: “Da-ray-an?”
“Yes, Darayan … and I thought she would be in Rivalex, or maybe I could find a way to get to her, I don’t know, but my gut told me I had to be there—even though when I arrived everyone was missing, including her.”
The two native Sarinese continued to stare at him so Darayan went on.
“I want you both to know that I support you and the Sarinese, I mean Sari is my home, my place. I will be Sarinese for the rest of my life. I want that as my future, as my present, but I just wanted to help a friend out.”
“Who is Polie?” Materid said unemotionally.
“Archibel, her name is Archibel.”
“Archibel?” Bodel furrowed her brows. “That name is familiar—”
“We need to save her,” Darayan pleaded. “I mean Sali told me she was set to be executed on Whidal, and here I was off on a tangent in Rivalex doing nothing about it.”
Materid breathed out, putting one of his tools down. “But what do you want from us?”
“I’ve no idea,” he said in earnest. “You can either join me or not.”
“Where does this journey lead?”
“Right now, to Whidal, and then I’m hoping we can work together and get back to Sari and save our planet from whatever was in the water.”
“That’s all you want?”
“Yes. I want to go home as much as you both do.”
“Thank you,” Materid said “for your honesty.” He picked his tool back up and began work again. “Ah, there we go, Vector generator is ready.”
“You’re kidding me?”
“I couldn’t just keep following you into these treacherous conditions without understanding your plan.”
“Seriously, Materid?”
“Seriously, Darayan.” Materid fed him the same tone of sarcasm. “Besides, you wanted my trust, and now you have it.”
“Thank you.”
“So where to?”
“Whidal.”
“Hey,” Bodel interjected, “what about me?”
They both looked at her blankly.
“What? I’ve got choices too right?”
Darayan nodded. “Okay, go ahead then?”
“Well … well …”
“Well what?” Materid said “I trust him, I know you do too, you told me.”
“Hey!”
“Well then,” Darayan shrugged. “I’m assuming you’re happy with this plan then too, Bodel?”
“Fine,” she snapped, leaving the room.
“She’ll come round,” Materid said. “I know she’s happy to be here.”
“I know that too.”
Materid hopped up out from the hull’s floor and resealed it. “Coming up, one-way Vector to Whidal,” he said plonking himself into the pilot’s seat.
“Thanks, Materid.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Finally, Darayan observed the Vector generator button turn green and felt elation when Materid pushed hard against it.
“I’m still surprised we didn’t get sucked up by Holom,” he said thoughtfully. “I guess it could be an old Felrin folk tale?”
“Seems that way,” Materid agreed, clasping hold of the gear stick as the scapecraft was subjected to the growing Euclidean Vector sweeping its way down their perimeter. “Perhaps someone just wanted to keep people from spending too much time in between?”
“Perhaps,” Darayan chewed on the side of his mouth, “but the time in between …”
“Can send you crazy?”
His answer was stifled; Darayan sat forward in his seat as the Vector sent them out the other side of its smoky tunnel.
“I’ve never been to a Waterworld before,” he admitted.
“Aquamorphs live here,” Materid said punching a few buttons above him and to the right. “They have an alliance with the Felrin.” As they penetrated the atmosphere further, several Felrin cruisers loomed into view.
“The Felrin trust them that much?” Darayan asked in disbelief.
“I thought this lot won the election off them?” Bodel said strapping herself into her chair. “What?” she said to Darayan smiling at her. “I’m allowed to be involved.”
“History is correct,” Materid said “but when the Felrin reclaimed the Universal Order they persuaded the Aquamorphs to remain close to the Congress.”
“I can see why the Aquamorphs agreed.”
“Why would Archibel be here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you trust Sali?”
“After he’d basically admitted he was being controlled against his will,” Bodel added.
“I think he said it before that,” Darayan said trying not to show his uncertainty or hesitation.
Bodel rolled her eyes. “Right.”
“She’s here, I know it,” Darayan licked his lips and scoured the scenery with anticipating eyes. Each section of ice or water more hazardous and divergent then the next.
“This really is a wild fish chase.”
“They’re not fish, Bodel.”
“Meh, close enough. Where are we parking this thing anyway?” she sniffed. “Somewhere safe, hopefully.”
“Try there,” Darayan pointed to a levelled section of ice behind a small mound.
“So where is Archibel hiding?” Bodel said as they shift locked the sca
pecraft and headed to the highest point of ice rock to get a better view.
“I’m guessing somewhere below,” Darayan replied.
Materid frowned, confused. “In the water?”
“Maybe drowning?” Bodel snorted.
“Shut up,” Darayan interjected. “Let’s go, we’ll work it out as we go,” he ushered out unconvincingly.
The trio went on. They rounded another ice mountain, about five kilometres from the last, to finally gain a close view of the Ice City. Every which way Darayan looked, the glow of moonlight shone against the ice—and in smaller sections, against water runoff that flowed into lesser rivers.
“So many breakpoints.”
“It’s quite mathematical, isn’t it?” Materid said in deep concentration.
“Too much erosion to be mathematical.”
Darayan stared out at the shapes the environment created through the narrow river valleys and deltas, which he could see provided rich, solid ice and level ground for the establishment of the Ice City’s population. How it all worked, he didn’t know. But despite looking like a low-lying flood encompassed by rock hard ice, the city’s tall and compacted buildings were sturdy and closed, keeping the people—if that’s what Aquamorphs were to even be—safe.
“It’s collected like ice caps and glaciers,” Materid said intrigued. “Such high altitude must be the norm.”
“I wonder when the tide comes in,” Bodel laughed. Darayan didn’t feel it was such a laughing matter.
“Depends on the moon and the sun,” Materid advised, “and how they act on the oceans. Tides can cause changes in the depth and compound of the water bodies and produce fluctuating currents. I’m not sure Whidal ever sees the sun, though; the way the planet rotates would also be a key factor.”
“Well,” Darayan breathed out, “let’s hope we are not submerged at high tide nor exposed at low tide.”
“Either way,” Bodel said annoyingly, “I hate getting wet.”
Darayan let out a depressing sigh and Materid sneered under his breath.
“Let’s go,” Darayan led the way, and the trio continued their hike to the centre of the Ice City.
“There’s an entrance over there,” Bodel called out, as they hobbled over another slender, free-flowing river.
“There’s several of the same entrances, Bodel, they all are running waterfalls pouring out of the Ice City. It looks like the Ice City is raised from water underneath it.”
“Some of them could be locked.”
“No,” Materid said “they’re designed for gills only. We would drown if we attempted entry.”
“Well,” Bodel rubbed her chin, “we’re back to square one.”
“The Ice City is not impossible to enter.”
“What’s the plan then?”
“Good question.”
“Let’s just waltz in there,” Darayan said unblinkingly, “ask for the leader of the Ice City and negotiate as Sarinese diplomats.”
Materid threw his head back. “Diplomats?”
“Well what else? What are our options?”
“Sounds alright to me,” Bodel said casually.
Materid gawked at her, “Since when do you agree with anything?”
“Since I want to do this and get the Holom back to my planet. Besides,” she went on, unfazed, “if Archibel and Darayan are willing to fight for Sari despite its obvious turmoil, I can show faith now. Our home planet needs all the help it can get.”
Materid nodded.
“Okay,” Darayan said pacing forward. “Let’s get the bells out.”
Bodel gave a confused look. “I ain’t whistling.”
“Well somebody needs to sound the alarms.”
“No violence,” Materid glared at Darayan.
He nodded. “Shall we spring a leak then?”
“There’s already hundreds,” Bodel said “they’d be none the wiser about one more, would they?”
“Let’s make our way up the main gate,” Darayan said after deliberating.
“Oh, this just spells trouble.”
“Follow me.”
It took him a few minutes to locate the bridge arching over the streaming water below, but once Darayan identified it was the only way to gain access to the castle, he realised the view from the Ice City would be unhampered and direct—the whole city would be gazing into the eyes of three foreign intruders.
“Give me your weapons.”
“Why?”
“The Ledgers are going to take them off us anyway.”
“Ledgers? You’re kidding right?”
“It’s not the time for fun and games.”
“I could have sworn that’s the only reason we came,” Bodel snorted.
“Aquamorph Ledgers are uncommon, Bodel, but they are trained aura users.”
“Whatever,” she said handing over her two blades. Materid quickly followed.
In plain sight, Darayan placed the weapons on the snowy soft ice below his feet and ventured toward the bridge. Calls were made, voices sounded, and one by one, the Aquamorphs began showing their faces. Light-skinned faces.
“They look—”
“Warm?”
“It’s cold here.”
“No,” Darayan snorted, “they are burning with rage.”
“Intruders! Stop where you are!”
“They clearly were not worried about trespassers.”
Another minute later a royal-looking fellow appeared.
“Is that a Sarinese? No two?” he said boyishly. “Wait,” his eyes fell on Darayan, “who, on this good waterground, are you?”
“I am Darayan of Layos.”
“Layos?” he laughed—as did the other onlookers. “You mean you’re from Rivalex? A Gorgon, are you?”
“Yes.”
Materid and Bodel remained unfazed.
“But I am a Sarinese now.”
“Ah, how lovely,” he spoke in a derisive falsetto before dropping back down into a deep menacing tone. “The question is, what possessed you to visit Whidal? After the fall of the gatekeepers, and the release of the Defeated King, there is so much danger in the air, wouldn’t you say?”
“We are looking for a friend.”
“A friend? A friend on Whidal?”
“Leave them, Adrian.” Her voice sparked something so intense in Darayan he nearly choked. Looking unlike her wild untameable self, Archibel strode forth along an ice bridge to their left. High up, Darayan could see glimmers of sparkle in her eyes. But the way she looked?
“Archibel,” he whispered, almost certain she heard him.
“Ah,” Adrian said joyously, “this friend.” He eyed Archibel deeply. “And what are you to do with your friends here, Princess Archibel of Sari?”
Gasps from behind Darayan alerted him to their shock. But why? What was this about princess?
Archibel’s eyes wept when they glanced toward him.
“Enough of that—” she tried to say.
“They don’t know who you are, Princess?” Adrian sneered in delight. “That you’ve been hiding amongst your own people, a commoner. A future Queen among them.”
“Princess Archibel?” Materid breathed, “Is it her?”
Adrian’s smile widened, while Darayan couldn’t read a single thing on the girl-he-thought-he-knew’s face.
Archibel had frozen to the spot the minute she saw Darayan standing at the main gate. Had he come here to save her? Ventured all the way to Whidal for her? All the animosity she felt toward him disappeared, but there was shock deep within her. Somehow her heart was breaking on the inside just seeing him. The distance they’d had, the month or so that he’d been gone, it did nothing to soothe the heart that beat for him. Her eyes were stained with tears, immobility possessed her limbs.
“Killed your parents, didn’t you?” Adrian’s voice spun her head awake.
Angst caressed her words. “No! No I didn’t—”
“Oh yes, and that’s why you fled! Why you still flee from these very people! You
are with the Aquamorphs now and here is where you will remain until your vote is cast at the Universal Election! Then your people can shame you when you return!”
Archibel’s heart was pounding out of her chest. The information about her heritage shamed her. What would Darayan think?
“It can’t be true?” Darayan was barely audible when looking up at her.
But she could read those words on his face. See the haziness and hurt embedded in him. But what to tell him?
Tears streamed down her white-painted face; Archibel just motioned her head forward and sideways without consciously giving an answer, thoroughly mortified.
“You see!” Adrian huffed boisterously with excitement. “This is a murderous traitor! Yet we keep her safe here! You shall leave and you have my word we will return your future Queen after the successful election.”
Despite the alarm Archibel was in, she could feel Darayan’s conviction. He had straightened and gave her a comforting glance. A look she knew. One that encouraged her to believe he was here to save her, that he wasn’t mad at her, that perhaps he was happy to see her. His words only added to this.
“Listen here, Aquamorph,” Darayan began. “I have come to peacefully take away my friend. If you—”
“If?” Adrian mocked. “If what?”
“If you don’t surrender her to us—”
Archibel knew Darayan could lose his cool, she’d seen it on more than one occasion, and unlike her, he didn’t fare too well being so emotionally charged, but here he was about to blow his top off.
Electric sparks of dusty orange aura had run the rim of his skin and flared out in exacerbation almost on cue.
Adrian wasn’t impressed by the effort either.
“Oh, calm yourself young man,” he said “this is no time for heroics. You’re outnumbered thousands to three.”
Adrian was right. There was no way the three of them could get out of this. Even with Archibel herself a Sarinese Topazi, they were only four trained aura users against perhaps a hundred or so Aquamorph Ledgers.
“Let’s trade then?” Archibel felt her skin crawl as Darayan offered.
Adrian licked his teeth; an uninterested slurping sound hollered out. “What do you have that I want?”