They’re all gone.
Jahrys heard a groan coming from the other side of the bar. He sprinted to the noise, jumping over the counter and looked down.
It was Willem. He was covered in blood.
“Willem!” Hope returned to Jahrys. “What happened? Are you all right?” Jahrys felt the hope fade when he looked down at the wound in Willem’s stomach. He tried to lift Willem’s large body from the floor, but couldn’t. Instead, he let Willem’s head rest on his arm.
“They came, Jahrys.” Willem’s voice was hoarse and lifeless.
“Who came? The Hoarders?”
Willem nodded his head. “I tried—to protect—our—family…” A bloody tear rolled down his cheek.
Jahrys wiped it away with his glove. “Did anyone survive?”
The whiteness in Willem’s eyes began to show as his eyes rolled up. He started to lose sense of his surroundings. He was fading.
“I tried—to protect—family…”
With the last word, Willem’s head fell gently back onto Jahrys’s arm as he faded from the world.
“Willem!” Jahrys cried out. “Willem! Don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me too!”
Jahrys’s lips began to tremble. Everyone’s gone. I’m all alone.
He let the tears roll down his face. He brought Willem’s forehead up to meet his as he cried over him. My family, thought Jahrys. My family is gone.
Jahrys sprinted upstairs to his room. He fell to the floor while the tears poured out of his eyes.
The diary was still on his desk, undisturbed. Jahrys stomped over to the book angrily. “It’s all your fault!” He felt crazy talking to a diary—but he didn’t care. “If I didn’t find this damn book, if I didn’t learn the truth about Lily—Alana—whatever her name is…maybe Kevrin would still be here. And Elyara would still be alive! I could’ve been here to protect The Arcalane.” He threw the book hard across the room, yelling, “All for a bottle of wine!”
The diary hit the bathroom door with a smack. The door crashed hard against the wall. Paper went flying in the air. A few sheets floated down to his feet.
What’s this? He bent down to pick one up.
Jahrys examined the paper closely: it was a map.
He felt the anger rising in his chest as he studied it. His eyes glared at the King’s Tower. He was finally able to see clearly and finally understand where his anger stemmed. It wasn’t the diary, nor Alana, it wasn’t the wine, nor the old lady.
It was King Leoné Poole—the king who had abandoned them.
Chapter 24
Alana
DUST STUCK TO her sweaty body as she crawled through the tunnels—back towards her room. Alana had just finished her sword fighting lesson with Sir Benjamin. They had been meeting up in Riverside ever since he followed her there before the wedding.
Every day she felt her body getting stronger. She noticed a change in her physique, along with new calluses on her palms. Three years ago, Benjamin could easily beat her in one fell swoop. Now, Alana was able to have a long rally with the knight. She was faster, her movements were smooth, and she was much more confident.
Alana considered going to check on her job down at the Retrieval Stations. She had just put out another job a few weeks ago, and she was anxious to find out if there was any success. She had to get her diary back before it fell into the wrong hands. But she had already been gone too long, it was almost the afternoon. She didn’t want her father to catch her outside the Castle Keep. Alana hated sneaking around like this, but what choice did she have? She did not want to disobey him, but she couldn’t stay cooped up inside the Castle Keep for the rest of her life. She needed freedom! To practice her sword fighting and to escape Mother Claraine and her annoying handmaids. If only her father could understand.
The tunnel ended, and Alana flicked the switch. There was a click, and the small door opened slightly—she had made it to the library. Alana opened it a bit more and peaked through to check if anyone was around. When she saw the coast was clear, she stepped down to the library floor. She gently shut the giant, swinging painting until it clicked back into place. She turned and quickly walked out of the library and took the stairs up to her room.
Alana opened the door to her bedroom. Quiet as a mouse, and with her body facing the door, she shut it.
“Practicing your sword fighting with Sir Benjamin again?” a heavy voice asked behind her.
Alana’s heart jumped. She swung around, flinging herself up innocently against her door. She placed a hand on her racing heart. “Father…I—”
“It’s okay, Alana. No need to explain yourself.” Her father was sitting on her bed, smiling at her. He had something laying across his lap. “Please…come sit.” He patted his hand down next to him.
Alana hesitated. Is this a trap? She thought. Her father had just caught her red-handed and he was…being nice? She cautiously walked over to her bed and sat down next to her father. He’s probably going to board my bedroom door up next and never let me out again.
She heard her father let out a long, deep breath, his thick beard expanding with his chest.
Her father turned and smiled down at her. “Have I ever told you how I met your mother?”
Alana shook her head. She had always wondered, but was always too shy to ask.
“Ah, what a story.” Her father shook his head as if he couldn’t believe the story himself. “During my first year as king, I had to pay respect to the unfortunate who had fallen ill at the start of The Sickness. Gala had had me wrapped up in some crazy contraption to prevent me from catching anything. I walked up and down the aisles of beds, looking at all those poor children, mothers, fathers, and elderly folk. All the poor Kalukians, Danorians, Palorians, and Sibleman looked the same as the wealthy. All different and yet, so similar. None of them would make it past that year.
“On my walk, I came across one woman whose beauty made me stop. Even being as sick as she was, she was more beautiful than any sunrise over the Farrest Sea. Even when her hair was a tangled mess, she looked stunning.
“I asked Gala about her, trying to discover her story. Gala told me she was brought in by a young man who had found her lying unconscious on the road. She was alive, but hadn’t woken up ever since they had found her. She had no family that visited her. No loved ones that cared for her—she was alone. So do you know what I did?”
“You married her?” Alana guessed.
Her father chuckled. “Well, yes, but before that?”
Alana shrugged.
“I visited her every chance I had. I slipped away from my mentors and advisors just to sit with her, to brush her hair behind her ears, to hold her hand. I loved her, even before I knew her, even before we spoke. Being with her took the burden of being king away from me, the burden I never asked for. It took away the pain from my dead parents, and my brother, Timmon, who had sailed off into the Farrest Sea, abandoning me, abandoning his birthright! My father, my mother, and my older brother, who were supposed to be there for me, were gone. They left me their burdens and this woman was my only freedom from them. I wouldn’t let her suffer the same fate as I did. I wouldn’t let her suffer alone. And when she woke…I was there for her. She smiled up at me as if she knew I had been there with her the entire time.
“But she didn’t remember anything. She didn’t know her name, where she had come from, or anything about her life before The Sickness.”
Alana watched a tear fall down her father’s cheek. He wiped it away with a large hand.
“She didn’t remember anything?” Alana asked in wonder.
“Not a single thing.”
“I never knew…”
Her father continued. “I told her I would take care of her, that I would help her restore her memory, that I would never abandon her like my brother had abandoned me. She was a strong woman. She made a miraculous recovery from The Sickness and was able to leave the Clinic. I showed her everything that Astenpoole had to offer and we fell in love and had
you.” Her father smiled at her, placing a hand on her back.
“Your mother is the bravest woman I have ever met. I see so much of her in you. By Zalus! You are so much like her, Alana! You have her eyes, her face, her guts, her commitment. You are one of the bravest woman I know.”
Alana’s eyes began to tear up.
“Your mother would have been ashamed of me for keeping you locked away inside this castle. I’m ashamed of myself. It was wrong and I see that now. I was just so afraid of losing you. I didn’t know what I would do without you and your mother.”
Her father wrapped his hands on the sword lying on his lap. “I wanted you to have this for your lessons with Benjamin. I had it made specifically for you.” He handed her the sword still inside the scabbard.
Alana held it out in front of her with both hands. “You had this made…for me?” She couldn’t believe it. She was so happy she began to cry. The tears were flowing down her face.
“The grip is smaller for your hands and is lighter and swifter than any sword you have held. It will be perfect for you.” Her father watched her examine it.
“Father—I—thank you.” She wrapped a free arm around his neck and dug her face into his chest and beard.
“Anything for you, Alana. I just want you to be happy.” Her father patted her back. “I know how hard things have been, especially with Nadia.”
“I am happy, Father.” She was smiling through her tears.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I will, Father. I promise.”
They broke apart, and her father gave her a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t be too hard on Benjamin. He won’t know what hit him when you use that sword against him.” Her father chuckled.
Alana giggled. “I’ll be nice.”
Her father gave her a wink and walked over to her bedroom door. Before he left he looked back at her. “You know I will never abandon you.”
“I know.” Alana smiled at him.
“Your mother would have been proud.” Her father smiled and closed the door behind him, leaving Alana to examine her new sword and freedom.
Chapter 25
Jahrys
HIS BODY SHOT up as he gasped for air. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was. It was a dream, just a dream. A hand grasped his chest. He took a few deep breaths. It was just a dream. Jahrys’s head was spinning. All he remembered was a woman, a baby, and a flash of blue.
When he finally settled down, he looked around. He was in a cave, and he was alone. He half-expected Elyara and Kevrin to be next to him when he woke. But then he remembered Elyara was dead and Kevrin was gone, probably dead as well.
The cave was cold, something he wasn’t used to. He was following a dried up stream that once branched off from the Seaport River in Kaluk. He found it using the maps Alana had drawn in her diary. He was so close to entering the castle walls. He was so close to confronting the king.
Jahrys didn’t stay at The Arcalane for long. He didn’t want to wait around for the old lady after discovering the maps and his newly directed anger. He didn’t know if he could trust her.
He had quickly gathered his things. He had packed as much as he could fit into his bag: the bottle of wine, bread, water, berries, Riago’s knife, the diary, an extra shirt, and of course, Alana’s necklace.
He didn’t leave without recharging his Captor. He had pointed the weapon at his desk, knowing he would never need it again. He pressed down on the bottom trigger, and the floor began to shake beneath him.
There was a deep, low hum.
VHRUUUUMMMM.
A blue beam had shot out, encompassing the desk. When the blue light disappeared, the desk was gone. The light on Jahrys’s Captor had flashed blue again, and Jahrys felt his Captor Pack vibrating on his back.
He had clipped his Captor to his hip, secured his bag around his shoulder, and grabbed his helmet. He left his room after taking one last look at it. He had sprinted down the steps of The Arcalane. The smell of death lingered in the air, even through his helmet. Jahrys had quickly said his goodbyes to Willem and to The Arcalane as he walked out the doors, back into the Junkland.
Thunder had boomed above his head and the wind had swirled around him. Debris had been blowing violently around, and he had to be careful. Jahrys did not want to be stuck out in the Junkland during the storm, but he had to find the cave. He couldn’t wait.
He had looked at the first map that showed the path that would lead into the castle. It had brought him close to the castle wall, which he had followed towards Kaluk. The populated buildings of Palor had faded away as the forest of Kaluk took its place. Or what used to be a forest. The bark on the trees had dried up and broken off in many places, and none of the trees had any leaves.
The map had then showed a cave a few miles away from the southernmost part of the wall. Jahrys had traveled through Kaluk, keeping a sharp eye out for Hoarders, as he followed the map deeper into the forest. The thunder had continued to roar over his head, the rain pounded against his suit, and the branches of the dead trees whipped in the wind, almost touching the forest floor.
He had picked up his pace. It had taken him most of the day to find the cave and the dried-up stream that fed into it. It had been hard to find at first, being hidden behind a rock crevice.
Jahrys had followed the stream bed inside the cave for a few hours before he had decided to rest; he was exhausted. Now awake, he didn’t know how long he had been asleep. He didn’t know what time of the day it was. It was too dark in the cave to tell.
Now, after he had calmed down from the dream, Jahrys realized he was clutching Alana’s necklace in his hand. He placed it back into his bag and stood up, stretching his legs. His body was stiff from sleeping on the hard rocky floor. He flung his bag over his shoulder, strapped his Captor to his hip, and continued his way down the stream bed.
He was eager to enter the castle and confront King Leoné. Jahrys was going to demand that the king open the gates and save his people and the kingdom he had abandoned, including Princess Alana. It was time for the king to stop cowering behind walls while Hoarders slaughtered his people. It was time for him to stand up and face his mistakes.
The words sounded perfect in Jahrys’s head. He would tell the king exactly that and he would listen. He had to listen.
After a few more hours of walking, he came to a dead end. There were bars submerged into the dirt with light peaking through; it almost looked like a cage. This is the way out, thought Jahrys. His heart was filled with excitement. A few of the bars were rusted away and left a gap just big enough for a small person to squeeze under. This must be how Alana escaped the castle that night.
Jahrys studied the gap. He wouldn’t be able to fit underneath, but he had an idea. He pointed the Captor at the rusted bars, pressed the top trigger, and fired two shots. When the smoke cleared, the gap was now large enough for Jahrys to crawl under.
He stripped down to his pants, placing his suit, helmet, Captor Pack, and Captor under a crevice of a large rock. He thought it would be best to not stand out inside the castle. He dug his hands into his bag and pulled out a loose shirt that he flung over his head. When he was ready, he made sure everything was secure inside his bag. He pushed the bag through the gap of the bars first, and then slid in himself.
He crawled for a few yards before the ground started to rise. He picked up his bag and smiled as he walked into the light of Astenpoole.
After spending his whole life on the other side of the wall, he had finally made it inside the castle. It was daytime now, and the city was alive. The architecture of the stone buildings was beautiful, nothing like Palor. Every building had a balcony. Some houses had thick, spiral columns with grand steps that led up to the front doors. The buildings were three, sometimes four stories high.
People walked busily in the streets carrying things Jahrys had never seen before. The women were beautiful and the men were well-dressed. Jahrys hadn’t seen this many people in one plac
e in nearly three years.
He couldn’t walk straight to the Castle Keep because the guards would just turn him away, thinking he was crazy or a drunken fool. He had to find a different way in. The map showed a house a few streets away from Pooles Road that had a secret passageway that led into the Castle Keep.
People were eyeing him oddly as he followed the map towards Pooles Road. Jahrys walked across the most beautiful bridge he had ever seen. It arched high over Seaport River. The stonework was flawless and had flowers carved into the stone. The river glistened and sparkled, a rich blue. Jahrys couldn’t believe that the Junkland did not touch anything inside the castle.
The Castle Keep stood proud on top of its hill not too far off in the distance. The towers rose high into the sky, the stone twisting around in a spiral. Jahrys recalled his father’s words about where the king’s chambers were: the southeast tower in the center of the Castle Keep. Jahrys looked up at the massive tower, which looked over Astenpoole from its hilltop. King Leoné was probably in there now.
A sign appeared in the center of the bridge. The left arrow pointed to Western Village and the right arrow pointed to Riverside. Jahrys must have just come from Riverside so he followed the path towards the Western Village, eventually finding his way to Pooles Road.
He was blown away as he looked at the famous road, which led to the Castle Keep. Tall buildings lined the road. Taller than any building in Palor, including Pastor Allen’s church. People hung outside their windows, waving to people in the streets, slapping towels or rugs against the side wall, or just enjoying the sights while having a smoke. Carts, led by horses and mules, clicked and clacked as they traveled in all directions on the cobblestone road. They were carrying fruit, sacks of rice, heavy lumber, and even passengers. There were little shops and tents lined up on every inch of the road. People were selling jewelry and pearls, homemade pies, and fruits and vegetables. Pigs were being herded across, reeking of mud and ammonia. Music was playing in the background.
Junkland (The Hoarding Book 1) Page 21