by D N Meinster
There was only one last trigger. He touched the edges of the latch at the center of the chest and pulled it down.
He heard a click, but that was it.
So he continued, lifting the top and revealing its contents.
Within was the fifth Key, lying still atop another pristine sheet of parchment.
Doren picked up the Key and read the message that had been left beneath it.
You’ve earned this.
Chapter Fourteen
Thaw
Drip.
Drip.
Water droplets descended from roofs, from the fronds of palm trees, as the icy remnants of the frost urchins’ occupation were melting away. Temperatures were on the rise as the Twilight Islands’ former weather reintroduced itself to all of its inhabitants. The gulls were the first to return to Noon, followed by most of the surviving Twileans.
“Carry your boats inland!” Hunner ordered after making landfall. He and Kula waited for their ward and his new pets to exit their canoe before they lifted it up from each end and trod through the slosh of snow and sand.
Many followed the Deputy Mayor’s example, though those without companions resorted to dragging their boats away from the seas.
“What if they’re not all gone?” Kula asked as they made their way from the shore.
“They are.”
Hunner was so startled by Aros’ appearance that he dropped his end of the canoe.
Aros rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry.”
Rikki and Doren faded into being adjacent to their friend.
“You made it,” Doren said, astounded.
“First try?” Rikki asked, skeptical.
“I beat you two here, didn’t I?” Aros responded. Since he’d actually shifted successfully, he deserved their praise, not their doubt.
Kula had set her end of the canoe on the ground. “So we have you three to thank for our newfound freedom?”
“From urchins and octopods,” Doren replied.
“Octopods?” Hunner asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Giant octopods,” Aros added.
“Kwee!”
Aros immediately turned his head in the direction of the sound. Clayd was coming up to them with Mr. Kwee wrapped around his chest.
Aros hurried over to them and lifted both Clayd and Mr. Kwee into the air. He spun them around as his pet let out a joyful coo.
Ji-Ji carved his own path through the melting snow before hopping into Rikki’s arms. She held the denhare against her chest and nuzzled him with her nose.
Deerie and Wolfie were less jubilant, circling Doren but not getting within arm’s reach.
“You took great care of them,” Aros told Clayd as he set him down.
“Would you mind watching them a little longer?” Rikki asked.
Both Doren and Aros shot flabbergasted looks at their friend.
“We still have to confront Hatswick,” Rikki reminded them. “Do you think they can hold their own against him?”
Aros somberly gave Mr. Kwee a poke. He’d come to his aid more than once during their journey, but Rikki was almost certainly correct. Hatswick’s magic could dispel him quicker than any of their other opponents. But Aros really didn’t like that he’d have to say goodbye to him again.
“I’ll be back for you,” Aros told him, adding another promise to his list.
“So you intend to leave us,” Hunner said, glancing at the three Kytherans.
“What more do you need from us?” Doren asked, crossing his arms.
“The islands are at risk of flooding,” Kula answered. “A mage could prevent such a calamity.”
“So could the sun,” M’hadder Redd interrupted. He gazed up at the yellow orb, enjoying the return of its warmth.
Aros tried looking up, but it was too bright for his eyes.
“There’s no need for debate,” Hunner stated. “Rikki is free to choose.”
“I thought Magenine makes the choices for her,” M’hadder replied.
Doren closed in on him. “You should be saying thank you.”
“Thank you,” another voice said.
All heads turned to see the Mayor being dragged along in the arms of his daughter.
“Rude as always,” Eloise said, eyeing M’hadder with disgust.
M’hadder grunted and looked away.
“We owe these three a great debt,” Mayor Kellig stated. “Without their intervention, I would be dead and the Twilight Islands would be home to the frost urchins for the rest of time.”
The Twilean survivors gathered around the Mayor and Deputy Mayor, nosing in on their pronouncements even while they supported the weight of wooden dinghies in their arms.
“You can set those down,” Eloise barked at the snoops.
Within minutes, they were all surrounded by survivors, many finally setting their boats down and listening in intently.
“We have an anxious population,” Hunner said. “They couldn’t even wait for us to make it back to Tunsev Manor.”
Aros looked around at the remaining Twileans, taking in their wet and disheveled appearance. None of them had just fought an army of urchins or an octopod, but it looked like they had. Many were covered in scratches or scars, and their clothes were torn and dirty. In their eyes, the enormity of their losses was reflected, as their stares were both hollow and determined.
“As I was saying,” Brent went on. He pulled his daughter’s arms off him but continued to lean on her for support. “Rikki. Doren. Aros. We all owe you our lives. The Twilight Islands bask in sun today because you cleared out the storm. By the sun, by the Goddess, we swear to come to your aid whenever you call upon us.”
There were nods throughout the gathering.
“Deputy Mayor Galath. In my absence, you provided needed leadership that saved countless lives. We would not have made it through the storm without you. Until I have fully recovered, I ask that you remain Acting Mayor.”
“Honored to,” Hunner replied.
“There is much left to do,” Brent said, his voice going hoarse. “But I’m sure we’d all like to rest first. I know I want to.”
“Avoid massive snowbanks as you settle in,” Hunner said. “Share your homes if they’re still standing. Find new ones if they’re not. Be wary of any flooding.”
“And pay no mind to the octopod statue on the southern beach,” Rikki interjected.
“Why is there an octopod statue on the southern beach?” Eloise whispered.
Doren reached beneath the neckline of his cloak to show off the fifth Key.
The crowd took their time disbursing, with some reluctantly dragging their boats further inland and others plopping down and taking naps.
“Would you like to stay at Tunsev Manor?” the Mayor asked. “Before you leave us?”
Aros appreciated the offer, and he wasn’t going to reject it before his friends had a chance to speak. However, he was looking forward to going home and sleeping in his old bed. They’d done what the Goddess had asked of them, save for one Key. There were no more foreign kingdoms to go to. They were aware of every culture and every technology available in all of Ghumai. It was time to return to Kytheras.
He looked at Rikki. She would want to go after Hatswick as soon as possible. There was little chance she’d want to stay on the Islands.
Then he looked at Doren, who had his eyes on Rikki. He’d do what she wanted.
“We might take you up on that,” Rikki said, “in the future. We’re not quite done with our mission yet.”
“After what you did with the urchins, I don’t think any Thalians stand a chance,” Brent stated. “Stay warm, my friends.” He and his daughter turned around and continued on the journey to Tunsev Manor.
“Come along, M’hadder,” Eloise demanded.
M’hadder followed them as fast as his wooden leg would allow.
“You know,” Hunner said. “I think I just figured out what we’re going to call that new island we’ve got between Set and Noon. Daybreak.
What do you think?”
“Perfect,” Rikki replied with a grin.
“We’ll be seeing you. Come along.”
Hunner lifted his end of the boat and started after the Mayor. Kula gave them a nod as she picked up the other end and followed.
Clayd chased after them, waving at the Kytherans while the mideer and miwolf ran past him.
“Go on,” Rikki compelled her pet. But Ji-Ji would not leave her arms. “Ji-Ji!” She set him down in the mushy snow but he wouldn’t leave.
“Why not take him?” Doren asked. “He has proven useful in a fight.”
“Do you want Hatswick to rip his soul out?” Rikki shot back. She glanced at Aros. “Sorry.”
Aros frowned as the memories of what Hatswick had done to Leidess’ soul flashed in front of his eyes. “He’ll never do that again,” he murmured.
Doren rested a hand on Aros’ shoulder. “Damn right he won’t. We won’t let him.”
“We?” Rikki asked, raising her voice. “We? You know it’s up to me to stop him. And are you forgetting? I couldn’t last time. He has Belliore’s Key, remember?”
“You won’t be fighting him alone this time,” Doren replied. “Me and Aros aren’t useless.”
“I’m not saying you are. But it takes a mage to defeat a mage.”
“Hatswick could do the same to either of us, you know.”
“I know, but you two can fight back. At most, Ji-Ji can bite him.”
“He has sharp teeth.”
“Ugh,” the Twilean stragglers groaned and crept away from the arguing Kytherans.
“Do you think Hatswick’s waiting for us?” Aros asked. He thought he’d have time to visit those he’d left behind when he returned home. He wasn’t expecting to get into a battle right away.
Doren shrugged.
“He didn’t come after us after we got Terrastream’s Key,” Rikki said. And he hasn’t come after us since we got the fifth one. He has to be waiting for us. And where else would he do that but Kytheras?”
Aros sighed. She knew Hatswick better than any of them and her argument made sense. It’d be a little while longer until he could see his mother again, he supposed.
“And that’s why Ji-Ji isn’t coming,” she added.
The denhare let out several lengthy whistles, as if to argue with her.
“You, too?” Rikki replied. “Fine.” She picked Ji-Ji back up and tucked him under one arm. “If you see Hatswick, you run the other way. Got it?”
Ji-Ji whistled succinctly twice.
“Are you two ready?” she asked, her tone rather grumpy.
Aros took one last look around the island. They hadn’t been here long and he wasn’t going to miss the place. But then, after a lifetime of hearing how great the Twilight Islands’ climate was and then finding it covered in snow, he was certainly disappointed. Also, being under constant attack by urchins hadn’t left fond memories. Maybe when he returned, it’d be more like it was before the invasion. But he didn’t know when that would be. There were other kingdoms he wanted to return to first. Besides, Mr. Kwee probably wouldn’t be upset about a long wait, but Loraya might.
“Let’s shift together,” Doren stated.
“Together,” Rikki affirmed, holding her staff out for her friends.
“Be on your guard,” the voice whispered in Aros’ ear.
His eyes bulged as the Goddess’ warning deeply shook him. He immediately repeated it to his friends.
“Weapons out,” Rikki ordered. “He’s waiting for us.”
Aros withdrew a clawblade while Doren took hold of his shield.
“Strategy?” Doren asked.
“Simple,” Rikki replied. “Guard the Keys with your life.”
Aros tapped on the Keys beneath his cloak, checking that they were still in place. “He might not know all three of us can shift.”
“We can use that to grab his key!” Doren exclaimed.
“No,” Rikki said. “Shift as a last resort to save your Key. We’ll regroup with M’dalla and Azzer in Terrastream.”
“And Loraya,” Aros automatically added.
“Right,” Rikki said.
“I won’t leave you behind,” Doren stated.
Rikki smiled at him, grabbing hold of his hand and then placing it on her staff.
Aros hesitated as his hand got closer to her staff. “Shouldn’t we be smarter about this? We know we’re going into a trap.”
“Better we know now than have Hatswick surprise us at some other time.”
With that Aros touched his fingers to the silver and curled them around the body of the staff.
Within moments, the dripping palm trees and sloshy snow began to fade away. They were replaced by familiar black walls; ones that he hadn’t seen in nearly a season. Castle Tornis was coming into view.
Chapter Fifteen
Homecoming
Almost a season away and nothing had changed. The black stone walls were untouched. The dank air was accompanied by a familiar chill. Torches lit up the corners where the windows’ light couldn’t reach. Doren was home.
He let go of Rikki’s staff and leered down the corridor. In the distance, he could make out the dark armor of the guardians. How useless they were. They hadn’t even noticed the new arrivals. Anyone shifting in to do ill could easily intrude unnoticed.
“No Hatswick,” Aros sighed, both clawblades in hand as he checked in every direction.
Doren wasn’t so relieved. They were on the first floor. There should’ve been more activity than there was, especially at midday. It was too empty.
“The Goddess didn’t warn us for nothing,” Doren replied, keeping his shield out. There was no knowing what magical manipulations Hatswick might’ve foisted on Castle Tornis in their absence.
Rikki’s and Doren’s eyes met, and they had trouble looking away from one another after making contact. For so long, they’d dreamed of escaping this place. And now, they were back, voluntarily returning to it. Neither of them wanted to be there, but they had to be there.
“Where to?” Aros asked, focusing on the two of them.
Doren broke his gaze from Rikki and stared at Aros. “I suppose we should find the King and let him know we’ve returned.”
“Where do you think he is?” Rikki asked.
“In one of three places,” Doren guessed. “The Throne Room, the High Council Chamber, or his bedroom.”
King Halstrom had only started frequenting the Throne Room after the Celebration, but he might’ve continued using it after the trio had left the kingdom. The other two locales were more likely if he hadn’t.
“So we split up?” Rikki asked.
Doren nodded. “You two take the Throne Room. I’ll check the others.”
“That’s less efficient,” Rikki noted.
“Do you want Aros to get lost?” he retorted.
They both looked at their friend, who appeared ready for battle but unsure of anything else.
“I could wait here,” Aros suggested.
“Come along,” Rikki said, only taking a single step before Doren grabbed her hand.
“Wait for me in the Throne Room, whether he’s there or not.”
Rikki nodded, squeezing his hand before taking off down the hallway. Aros followed after her, blades swinging at his sides.
Doren watched them for a minute and then spun in place, shifting to the upper floors.
He ended up exactly where he’d intended: the High Council Chamber. Dark as it was, with no sunlight making it down from the narrow windows and no candles lit, he could tell the room was deserted. The table sat empty; the cushioned chairs unoccupied.
While he was at once grateful not to see the faces of the High Council members he despised, there was something off about the chamber that he couldn’t quite place at first.
Doren closed in on the table, reaching out and running his hand along its smooth surface. When he lifted it back up and brought it closer to his eyes, he saw a layer of dust covering his finger
s and palm.
King Halstrom would not be one to tolerate an unclean chamber. It must’ve been decks since anyone had been in here. But why? Had he disbanded the High Council? Or were they meeting somewhere else now? The Throne Room, perhaps?
Doren blew the dust from his hand and wiped the rest on his cloak.
It didn’t seem right. He’d spent so many years within these walls, most of them not by his own choice. And it was only after he left that they finally stopped coming here? They must not have intended to return, for the chamber would not have remained in such a state if they were going to resume their meetings.
Doren’s memories brought the room to life, as he remembered each member bickering and complaining, while his father watched. Kelvin’s ambition shone in his eyes while Orlan’s subtle words outraged Wilma. Saunders croaked his ancient advice while Alphonse’s consistent scratching made obvious his need for a bath. And all of them together laughed whenever the Outer was brought up, including King Halstrom, who sat across from the Prince.
And there, at his father’s side, was Hatswick, plotting against the kingdom and the peace that had lasted centuries. None of them had known that their greatest threat shared a table with them. The Grand Mage had played his part well.
Doren knew he couldn’t linger any longer, for it was possible his friends had already found either Hatswick or Halstrom. With a spin, he left the chamber and shifted to his father’s bedroom.
“King Halstrom?” Doren called out after solidifying.
The royal bedroom, too, was unchanged. His mother’s décor remained, as did the aging violet and gold paint. The bedsheets had seen better times, as evident by their worn-out edges, along with the bed itself, whose familiar cracks drew in Doren’s eyes instantly. And his nostrils instantly detected that old stench that had lingered in the years since his mother’s passing.
“Father?” Doren squeaked as he meandered about.
The balcony was empty, and the way to it was shut. The bed was made, and everything was in its proper place. It looked as it should. But an uneasy feeling was growing within despite the familiar appearances.
Maybe the servants had finished freshening it up, but the bedroom was almost too neat. There was not a dent in the pillow or a misplaced item of clothing lying askew. It was almost as if no one had been using the bedroom at all.