by Alane Adams
What did she prize? Where was her source of power? Sam searched her thoughts, her memories, but her evilness was like a black stain, spreading over him as he lingered. She was stronger than the Omera. She was fighting back, trying to consume his magic. Frantically, Sam attempted to force her to remember, pressuring her with his mind to tell him.
Then he saw a spark of memory, a handful of gems passed to her. He looked down at the fleshy gray fingers. The stones on her rings glittered back. She was screaming loudly now, pushing him out, but he had what he wanted.
Sam tore himself lose, landing facedown on the ground. He couldn’t stop himself from retching. Wiping his mouth, he turned his head to look at her rings—one ring in particular, the red one on her middle finger. He could feel its power as he stared at it.
The ruby in her ring controlled the sun. He had to get it off her hand.
The ground began to tremble. His spell was fading. Lava rained down, and the rock that had dangled over Rego’s head landed harmlessly beside the dwarf. The giant blinked at the spot where Rego had been.
Keely and Mavery scrambled to their feet.
Rego shook his head. “That was a mite strange. I think I owe you my life, but I’m not sure.”
“You can thank me later,” Sam said. “We need the ring off her hand—the ruby one.”
“Distract her.”
Sam drew on his powers, running his hands in a circle over his head as he concentrated, then pushed forward with his palms and tossed the rocks at Sinmara. She dodged them easily. Leo launched a volley of arrows at the pair of giants, who swatted them away but stayed a safe distance back.
“Hey, Sinmara, check this out,” Sam said. He pointed at the pool of lava and drew it up into a thick stream in the air, letting it rain down on her head.
Wailing, the flabby priestess wiped the burning liquid from her eyes.
“You will spend eternity in this hole!” she screamed, then flung her arm out, trying to grab Sam by his shirt.
But Rego had snuck around behind her and climbed up on her throne. He raised his sword over his head and brought it down, grunting with effort as he lopped off her right hand clean at the wrist.
Sinmara let out a deafening screech that echoed off the onyx walls. Writhing in agony, she clutched at her butchered arm. Leo slid in and scooped up the hand, its fingers twitching, and tossed it at Sam. Sam grabbed the limb and stuffed it into the leather satchel that Rego threw at his feet. Keely and Leo were already running for the cave entrance, dragging Mavery along.
With the satchel flung over his shoulder, Sam was right behind his friends, only to be blocked by a swarm of shreeks that poured into the chamber through the tunnel. He knocked a few away and swung Odin’s rock over his head, desperately searching for words to stave off this latest attack. He was tired, and his brain felt fuzzy.
Before he could mutter a spell, a large shreek flew straight into his face. Sam was frozen in place. His last thought was that it was going to scratch his eyes out, but it veered off and, as one, the swarm of shreeks parted in front of them, clearing a pathway to escape through.
Surprised and more than a little relieved, Sam stopped inside the tunnel and turned to see the shreeks descending on the giants and attacking them with all their fury. It was as if they were helping Sam and his friends escape, or maybe they just hated their keepers. He ran up the steep path with Sinmara’s screams ringing in his ears.
Back outside, Sam sucked in all the fresh air his lungs could hold. Freedom had never tasted sweeter. He didn’t even mind the sickly rays of the sun bearing down on him. Anything was better than the subterranean nightmare of Sinmara’s cavern.
“What do I do with this?” Sam said to Rego, holding out the heavy satchel.
He wanted to get rid of the foul thing, but Rego said, “Only Sinmara can wield the rings. Leave them as they are.”
The sun was setting, spreading scarlet trails of light across the horizon. Sam whistled into the twilight and heard the beating of wings. Within minutes, the two Omeras landed with a thump next to them, and the gang climbed onto their backs. The female Omera communicated to Sam silently, as she had done before.
Is it done?
Now it can be, Sam assured the beast.
A thin sliver of moon appeared through the clouds as they flew across the ocean. The seasons were changing. A chill hung in the air. Sam had an urge to pull Sinmara’s hand out of his bag and admire the rings, but instead he focused on the warmth of Keely’s arms around his waist.
“You were amazing back there, Sam,” she said.
“You weren’t so bad yourself,” he replied.
He was getting stronger, more confident of his magic. He could feel the rock of Odin lying against his chest, but a deeper power hummed inside him. Odin’s Fury.
I can finish this, Sam thought. And I will.
They would break the red-sun curse and destroy the witches. Sam grinned as the wind whipped at his face. He urged the Omera on toward Garamond. The end was in sight.
Chapter Forty-Five
The Omeras landed as the sun’s sickly rays speared above the horizon. The four riders had fallen asleep on the backs of the beasts, trusting them to carry the group safely across the water. The exhilaration of the ride faded fast as they stood on the shore of Garamond. The rising sun cast a deathly glow on the day, washing them in its bloody stain and illuminating the current state of devastation. The once-pristine sand was littered with rotting fish. Birds lay dead on the ground in black, lifeless clumps. There wasn’t a living creature in sight, not even a scavenger.
“I don’t feel so good,” Mavery said, swaying on her feet. Leo caught her before she fell over. He laid her gently on the sand.
“The sun’s starting to make us sick,” Leo said, looking up at Sam. “I feel it, too.”
Then a faint squawk made them all turn. There in the low branches of a scraggly tree was the hunched figure of a bird.
“Is that Lagos?” Sam asked, recognizing the cinnamon-orange-tipped feathers. Rego had ordered the bird to stay back with Gael and the others.
The dwarf began to run, his short legs pounding the sand as he made for his pet. Sam and the others gathered around as Rego lifted her out of the tree and cradled the bird in his arms.
“There, now, Lagos. It’s going to be okay,” Rego crooned, swaddling the bird close. “You just got too much of that cursed sun on you.” He tried to feed the bird a sip from his waterskin, but the bird turned its beak away.
“What’s that on her leg?” Sam asked, spying a small tube tied to her.
Rego tugged it loose and unscrolled a small piece of parchment. “It’s a message from Gael. He’s going to surrender to the witches. They’ve promised to end the red-sun curse if he does.”
“You have to stop him,” Sam said. “Endera’s lying. She knows I’m the only one who can stop the red sun.”
Lagos let out a weak call. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused.
“Lagos?” Rego asked, his voice breaking. “Hang on, girl.”
The bird opened her beak one more time, as if there was something she wanted to say, and then she went limp in Rego’s arms. The dwarf shuddered, gripping the bird tightly, then laid her gently back in the sand.
“Is she dead?” Keely asked, her voice wavering.
Leo dropped down and put his head to its chest, then sat back, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Rego,” he said.
“She held on until the end, waiting to deliver that message,” Rego said, wiping a tear away. “Give me a moment to say a proper goodbye.”
Leo herded them a short distance away.
“Look at Mavery. What if we’re next?” Keely asked, her voice bordering on hysteria. “What if we all die before you break the curse?”
Sam looked at Leo, and his friend nodded reluctantly, reading Sam’s intention. Sam had to do something. Now. Before things got worse.
Stalking back to the spot where they landed, Sam dropped to his knees and drew Sinmara
’s hand out of the satchel. It had grown cold, stiff, and rubbery to the touch, but Sam bit back his revulsion.
Leo and Keely sat down beside Sam. Mavery lay on the sand, eyes open, watching them, but the girl seemed too weak to move.
“Sam, are you sure about this?” Leo asked. “Rego said not to use the ring.”
“Keely’s right. We’re all going to be like Lagos unless I do something.”
Keely hugged her knees, eyeing the severed hand with disgust. “What exactly are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. But the ruby and the sun are connected. I just have to figure out how to break the connection.”
Sam pried the ruby ring off Sinmara’s stiff, cold finger. He held it in the palm of his hand, looking at his friends’ expectant faces. They were counting on him to save them. Swallowing back his fear, Sam slid the ring on his finger. It was three sizes too big, but as the metal touched his skin, the gold turned warm and shrank until it fit snugly on his hand. Then the ruby began to glow, lighting up with an internal fire. Sam felt a jolt of power as the ring and the sun made a connection.
His scared friends took several steps back, unsure what to expect.
Sam’s hand rose over his head of its own volition as the power of the curse drew the ruby to the sun. In an instant, Sam realized he had made a mistake. The sun’s poison flooded his veins with a seething electricity that spread through him, then returned to the ring and back to the sun in mere seconds. His connection to the curse was now complete. It felt exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
Too late, Sam realized the sun was molting into a brighter shade of red, glowing the fiercest hue he had seen since he had arrived in Orkney. There was no trace of yellow left. His efforts to stop the curse had backfired, as if his blood were gasoline added to the cursed fire already burning in the sky above them. The sun had become a blazing ball of fury, shooting out rays more intense than anything they had seen so far.
Sam’s eyes began to burn like hot coals, emitting piercing red light.
Keely ran at Sam, jumping up to grab at his arm. “Put it away, Sam! It’s too powerful.” She grabbed at the ring, but when her fingers touched the stone, a burst of crimson light flung the girl backward, planting her face down in the sand.
A part of Sam knew he should stop, but even if he wanted to, the power of the sun had taken hold of the ruby, as if it had been reunited with an old friend. He held the ring over his head. As the blazing connection intensified, wind began to whip around him, blowing sand into his friends’ faces. He was like a living torch, sending out scalding rays of heat. Rego came charging across the sand, but the dwarf was too late.
Sam surrendered to the power that coursed through him. He flung his arms out, absorbing all the energy he could.
He was the red sun. The red sun was him.
Rego finally reached Sam, tackling him with his burly body and knocking him to the ground.
“Get the ring off him!” Rego shouted as Sam wrestled to get free.
Leo sat on his arm and pried the ring off his finger, then buried it under the sand, ending the connection.
“Why did you do that?” Sam screamed, trying to dive for the ring.
Rego kept him pinned down and put his elbow across Sam’s throat. “It was killing you. We had to stop it.”
He shoved Rego off and sat up. “It was working! You ruined it.”
“No, Sam, you were making it worse,” Leo said. “Any longer and we would have all been dead.” He held his arm out and Sam gasped at the blisters that pebbled his skin.
The dwarf was kneeling over a still figure. Sam’s anger collapsed. “Keely?”
He scrabbled on all fours across the sand to her side.
“Keely, wake up.” He shook her gently, but her face was as pale as the inside of a shell. Only the slow rising of her chest gave him hope. “I almost killed her,” he whispered.
Rego looked Sam square in the eye. “Sam, if you put that ring on again, you will die. Mark my words.”
“No. The ring is the key. Odin sent me to get the ring, so it has to work.” Sam was so frustrated he wanted to punch a hole in the sky. “If Odin wanted me dead, he would have just killed me. I just don’t know how to use it.” He settled for pounding his fist into the sand.
Mavery’s voice was a croak. “Sam?”
Sam moved to lean over her. “What is it, imp?”
“Endera always has a plan,” she whispered.
Sam’s heart thrummed. Mavery had said that before. “You think Endera has the key?”
“That’s why she kept Howie,” Mavery whispered, her eyes large in her pale face as she looked up at him. “So you would go find them. They’ll know how to end the curse.”
She was right, Sam realized. Endera had known he would need her help; the evil witch had figured he could be her errand boy and bring her the Horn of Gjall at the same time.
“Thanks, imp.” He ruffled her hair. “Don’t die on me.” He stood up on legs that felt too wobbly for what he had to do.
“Let me come with you, Sam,” Leo said, rising.
“No, I need you here, Leo. Get Keely and Mavery to Gael. Maybe he can help them. And whatever happens, don’t let him surrender to the witches.”
“We’ll find Gael,” Rego said.
Taking the pouch that held Odin’s Stone, Sam carefully dug Sinmara’s ring out of the sand and tucked it inside, putting the pouch safely inside his shirt. He still had the Horn of Gjall at his waist. He might turn to dust before this was over, but he was going to do his best to make sure Howie was safe and Endera suffered maximum pain.
Leo hugged Sam tightly, slapping him hard on the back.
Sam let Leo’s strength fill him for a long moment; then he turned and started running up the trail that led to the top of the bluff. Pursing his lips, Sam whistled loudly and began running through the woods as the toxic sun rose higher in the sky.
The female Omera flew overhead as he raced through the forest. He barely broke stride as she flew low enough for him to leap onto her back. They flew over the tops of the trees as he whispered in her ear where he wanted to go.
Chapter Forty-Six
Howie and his new friend, Bert the rat, snoozed in the corner of his cell. The two of them had developed a strong bond based on mutual dependency. Howie served up his leftovers, and Bert alerted him if any of the other rathos came near. Lately, the other vermin had steered clear once Bert had grown fat and strong. Howie didn’t see Endera’s daughter again, but every so often a note appeared in his food.
Rat boy, said one.
Snore much? said another, as if she knew what went on in his cell.
For Howie, the torture was not the lack of TV or flush toilets, but the boredom. There were only so many games he could play with a rat. He paced his cell, hopping on one foot, balancing a rock on his head, and sang every verse to every song he knew. He craved daylight, but when he looked out the skinny bars of his cell, all he saw was the strangely toxic sun. Today it blazed with a brighter intensity than ever before.
“Your friend did that,” a familiar voice said.
Howie turned, jumping down from the window. “Liar.”
“I never lie.”
Howie moved closer to his visitor at the door, pressing his face up to the bars. She was pretty, for a witch, with her red lips and large green eyes. A fringe of dark bangs crossed her forehead. Howie could see the resemblance to Endera in her high cheekbones and pointed chin.
“I’m Howie.”
“Perrin.”
“So, Endera’s really your mom?”
Perrin gave a slight shrug. “Witches don’t exactly have close families. We’re raised by the coven.”
“That’s crazy. I can’t imagine not having my brothers and sisters around.”
“So, you’re close to them?”
No one in Howie’s family thought twice about him, but that didn’t stop him from claiming them. “They’re not perfect. But I bet they’re worried abo
ut me.” Or at least he liked to think they would be. “What do you know about Sam? Is he okay?”
She lowered her eyes. “My witch brother has put us all in danger. His anger is boiling the sun. But my mother will fix it. You’ll see. Everything will be better when the stone witches are—”
Perrin stopped herself.
Howie gripped the bars. “Stone witches? What’s Endera up to now?”
The girl backed away. “Never mind, rat boy. I shouldn’t have come here.” She turned and hurried away.
“What did you mean? Perrin!” Howie shouted, but she was gone.
A guard appeared at the door. “Time to go,” he said.
Howie felt a flicker of unease. This couldn’t be good. He hadn’t left his cell since Sam had embarked on his journey. Bert let out a sad-sounding squeak as Howie was led away.
Endera stood in front of the gathering. Every witch old enough to cast a spell was assembled on the grand plaza in front of the Tarkana Fortress. Hestera stood at her side, leaning on her emerald-topped cane, allowing Endera to have this moment of glory.
“Sisters!” Endera called for silence. The gathering quieted down. “We are setting out on a journey that will restore us to our former glory. I promise you, we will return victorious. We will not leave our ancestors trapped in stone.”
Shouts rang out in support.
“We have not forgotten the sacrifice they made for us. Catriona. Bronte. Ariane. Beatrixe. Paulina. Nestra. Vena. Agathea. These eight sisters have endured eons of suffering, waiting for us to gain the strength to free them. Today is that day. The Son of Rubicus rises even now. See how the sun seethes with his magic.”
The witches craned their necks toward the boiling face of the sun.
“Samuel Barconian will free Catriona and the others from those stones. It is his destiny. We will destroy our enemies, the Orkney guardians Odin put in charge. The ones who have opposed us all these centuries. We will sweep them aside like the rubbish they are. No one shall be left standing when we are through.”