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Wicked As You Wish

Page 37

by Rin Chupeco


  There were also many familiar names. “Avenant Charming, the first” was an impossibly handsome man smiling out at her with Alex’s blue eyes. “Arthur of Camelot,” probably the most famous of Avalon’s kings, was depicted brandishing Excalibur and leading his men into battle, as if sitting down to have his portrait taken was far too mundane for the likes of him. But it was “Ivan Tsarevich” who looked the most like Alex, with a firebird nestled on his shoulder in almost the same way.

  And there were the Three Great Heroines, depicted side by side. Ye Xian of Wudong was a young Chinese warrior who had married into the Charming family; she wielded the great sword, Fishbone. The rapier that Talia Briar-Rose, the legendary Sleeping Beauty, carried was called Needle, delicate and sharp. Snow White’s weapon of choice was a broadsword called Hunter, and in her painting she was lifting it above her head, ready to strike. Two of those swords had since been lost to time; only one of the blades, now known as the Nameless Sword, had survived. As the sword frequently changed form and size depending on whom it chose to wield it, nobody knew whose sword it originally was.

  The next portrait was “Prince Darling” and to Tala’s horror, it depicted a large snakelike creature with a lion’s head and a bull’s horns. It wore a black expensive coat, and a plume of feathers on its head.

  Another portrait adorned the wall at the farthest end. It was of a large cat with fur of many colors and bright yellow eyes. It gazed calmly back at Tala, who read the small brass plaque underneath the painting: “The Duke of Wonderland.”

  The firebird disappeared through another door, into what Tala realized was the royal throne room.

  Here, ice grew everywhere.

  Thick maroon draperies hung from every corner, frosted over by a thick transparent glaze. Every conceivable nook and cranny on the floor was covered in a thick, mirror-like polish, the plush red carpeting preserved underneath. A magnificent fresco was painted on the high ceiling, depicting a large army host off to do battle, although whatever it was they were fighting was now obscured by several more layers of ice. Large stalagmites jutted out from the floor, filling the room. It made Tala feel like they were wandering into the jaws of a giant monster.

  There was a mirror near the entrance, with markings similar to the one at the sanctuary. Tala tentatively made her way over, gave it a careful tap. If this was a looking glass, it, too, was frozen over and most likely useless.

  “I really don’t think we should be here…”

  The firebird plopped down on the throne with its usual careless manner, spreading its wings over the armrests, and tilted its head to one side, listening.

  Tala examined a scepter lying across a small table stand. “I don’t think we should be here,” she said again. “I know we have Ryker outside to worry about, but we should at least wait for the others.”

  It was as if she’d never spoken. The firebird remained silent, staring intently at a small door half-hidden behind the throne.

  Something seemed strange with one of the large stalagmites nearby. Frowning, Tala took a step closer. She could make out a dark and huddled shape trapped somewhere within the icy structure. She pressed herself against the cold surface, peering inside.

  A face stared back up at her. The man’s eyes were open and vacant, boring holes through her own. His mouth was set in a wordless scream.

  Stunned, Tala spun around, feeling sick to her stomach as realization hit. Every block of ice had people trapped inside it—servants, courtiers, nobles—their faces locked in expressions of permanent terror.

  One block of ice was taller than the rest, at almost twenty feet or so. “An ogre,” Tala whispered, staring at the frozen beast encased within, arms still flung out in mid-strike.

  The firebird hopped off the throne and flew straight for her, to tug at her arm and steer her toward the side door. “But why would the Snow Queen freeze one of her own nightwalkers?” Tala gasped. “This makes no sense…”

  The firebird stopped. She followed its gaze and saw the shades.

  They were crawling in through cracks in the ice, snarling and hissing. Crawling over frozen statues of the imprisoned as they approached, a massless sea of frothing sharp teeth and gaping black maws.

  “And what do we have here? Two little younglings who’ve lost their way?”

  Tala froze. She remembered that voice. The firebird tossed its head back and let out a low, angry hiss.

  The ice maiden looked no different from when she had confronted Tala and Alex back in the boys’ locker room, and nothing in her flawless porcelain face bore any scars from their previous encounter. She emerged from one of the upholstered walls, pulling herself out of a large dome of ice suspended there while more crackled around the floor, forming around her bare, blue feet.

  “Spellbreaker.”

  “Run,” Tala told the firebird. She tried to sound tough, the way Ken or Zoe would have, but her voice warbled, thin and quavering. She drew out her arnis sticks. “Get out of here. Find help.”

  It ignored her. The ice inched ever so slowly forward, toward them.

  “It is not too late to join us, Spellbreaker,” the ice maiden coaxed. The ice around her rippled slowly outward to coat the floor and walls in even thicker layers as she passed.

  The firebird blazed up, its feathers burning, and spat several fireballs the ice maiden’s way. The creature laughed and brushed them aside like they were of little concern. “Your fires could injure me once, little firebird, but not now. I am stronger here in the frost than I could ever be in the outlands, and I am immortal.” She drifted closer.

  “Join us, Spellbreaker. We have much to offer. Riches.” Shards of bright crystals blossomed along the wall, sparkling like diamonds. “Power.” More formed along the walls, drifting above like frozen wings. “Even love.” The woman stepped closer, her pale blue eyes bright. “Join us. You will have all these and more at your fingertips. These the queen offered your father once, and now all these I offer to you.”

  “My father?” Tala whispered.

  “Yes. Your foolish, simpering traitor of a father. They were young once, he and the mistress, and they loved each other dearly. To save his life, the mistress took on a curse that transformed her into the powerful queen she is today. With it, she wreaked her vengeance on those who abandoned them on the Lapps, alone and unprotected. She protected Beira, and he fought with her. She gave him love, and riches, and power of his own. But your father was corrupted by the sweet lies of the outlanders, and he turned against us.”

  “You’re insane,” Tala said. “Your mistress killed millions of innocent people.”

  She laughed. “What is innocence, Spellbreaker? There is no such thing. The sweet babe today will be taught to hate by the world soon enough. The only difference between a harmless toddler and a tyrant are the years in between. There is no such thing as an innocent. There is only them. And there is only us. But you are different, Spellbreaker. So strong. So potent. We are just like you. You will be the mistress’s true daughter, the one she should have had with Kay Scourgebringer; more of a mother than the Makiling woman can ever be.”

  “You’re afraid of my mother,” Tala responded, trying to look for another way out because the ice maiden blocked the door they had arrived through. The only exit she could see was another door, still frozen, which the firebird was doing its best to melt. “You want me on your side because your magic won’t work on me.” That was bravado; she didn’t know if she was strong enough to beat back the ice maiden’s immense strength.

  Anger hardened, cracked at the frozen mask that was the woman’s face. “The curse the Makilings carry within them is more than just anathema to all who hold magic dear; they are abominations. To reject magic is to reject eternity, immortality. I can offer you much more than the worthless life you are doomed with, to enjoy what your ancestor had forsook.”

  “Why did Dad leave her if she was
so powerful?” Tala hedged, trying to buy the firebird time.

  “Death is every mortal’s fate. Your father merely hastened their destiny. But over time, he grew weary of the endless battles. He disagreed with my mistress, believed that humans need not seek war. Kay has always been so shortsighted. To achieve peace, my queen must possess Avalon’s segen, to keep them away from greedy mortals. The firebird is only one of them.” Her voice tempered, grew soft and sweet. “We can help each other, my little one. Together, we can find another of those segen, the Nameless Sword. The queen shall exult us both over any other. She will give you lordship and kingdoms and dominions to rule. All for a simple sword. An old, insignificant sword, and a firebird.”

  The firebird had abandoned its attack. Tala could hear it struggling with the door behind her.

  “If it’s so insignificant, why do you want it?”

  “I have no more time for games.” Her hand crackled, sharp icicles forming in lieu of fingernails. “If you are not with us, then I shall strike you—”

  The icicles lengthened, then broke off, one by one, falling uselessly to the floor. The ice maiden’s hand sizzled when it hit her agimat’s radius, and the woman cried out, cradling her burnt, half-melted hand. “The curse,” she hissed, her other hand forming a longer, sharper, deadlier sword.

  She lunged. The ice sword partly disintegrated as it passed through the agimat’s barrier, narrowly missing Tala, anyway, who pushed with all her might until the agimat encompassed the ice maiden entirely.

  There was a sound like several detonators going off all at once. The force of the impact sent the ice maiden flying straight into a wall, creating a huge hole in her wake. Tala didn’t even bother to see if the woman was dead; she took off back toward the exit, only to realize it had been completely covered in ice during the course of their fight. “Melt,” she muttered, placing her hands against the icy surface. “Come on, come on, melt!” Her fingers grew numb from the cold, and she realized her curse wasn’t working.

  A strange, sizzling sound began from behind the main doors. The wood contracted briefly, then burst open.

  Several shades turned to face the new threat, but by then it was too late. Weaves of lightning cleaved several into pieces. “Tala!” a familiar voice yelled.

  Ken tore past what remained of the doors, took a running leap, and landed at the center of the shadowy mass. He swung the Yawarakai-Te in a wide circle, cutting large chunks into the creatures. “Sorry we’re late!” was all he had time to say before he was quickly lost under a wave of shades springing ferociously on top of him, howling.

  Zoe danced forward, lightning electrocuting every shadow it came across. A few avoided the initial swipe and clambered toward her, but Zoe shifted direction and stepped down hard on one end of her whip. The lash adjusted trajectory and sliced into the demons from behind, cutting them in two.

  Another horrible, high-pitched noise echoed throughout the room, and an elephant demolished the rest of the doors and a considerable chunk of the nearby walls, stampeding over shades with uncontrolled glee. Another one of the creatures tried to bite at the massive feet, but the elephant stepped out of the way. A well-placed kick sent it flying into the wall.

  “West!”

  The elephant trumpeted in affirmation, then stomped a few more of the shadowy beasts into the ground. Ken fought his way out, sword swirling so brightly it was more light than blade. The shadows scrabbled to retreat, but many were not as lucky.

  Then Nya, Cole, and Loki were there, fighting their way through the throng. Loki wasn’t cutting so much as hacking their way through the surges of black shapes, the staff leaving their hands of its own accord to impale as many shades as it was able. Zoe continued sending imps hurtling left and right with her whip, striking with deadly precision even as she gracefully spun her way through the mob. Nya, who had only brought practical weaponry, was somehow successfully fighting shades off with her broom. Cole was doing deadly work with the Gravekeeper, though most of the shadows were doing their best to avoid him.

  “Where’s Alex?” Tala yelled over the din.

  “No idea!” was the answer from Ken. “We saw him entering the castle!”

  A cry of rage echoed from the other side of the room, coupled by the firebird’s sudden squawk of triumph; it had finally thawed the door behind the throne. Before Tala could react, it grabbed at her and dragged her backward. The door slammed shut.

  “What are you doing? We need to help them!”

  It shook its head and gestured urgently at a set of stairs now in their path.

  “I’m not going anywhere without a—”

  The firebird dashed away, cutting her off midsentence. Groaning, Tala pursued.

  Another large room waited for them at the top, with a ceiling dozens of feet high to give the room a peculiar echo when she walked. The walls and floor were made of uneven granite stones, and armies of spiders scuttled out of everywhere to disappear into other hidden corners. The place was bare, save for nine tall stone monuments that hovered about two feet in the air, in a circle. Strange lights encircled the markers, glancing and sparking off each other like electric currents. Tala had a very bad feeling.

  “What is this?” Slowly she moved from stone to stone, careful to stay out of the circle to avoid the odd fluttering lights. Even despite her caution, the lights around the monuments flickered when she moved past, as if her presence alone was enough to affect them.

  There were words marked on each of the stones. Tala read them silently as she passed: Thoronoe, Thiten, Gliten, Mazoe, Gliton, Glitonea, Moronoe, Thiton. And Morgen; that was inscribed on the tallest of the stone monuments. Were they names, she wondered, or something else?

  The stones looked like they were made of sculpted obsidian. Tala remembered the small stones the Ikpean priestess had given Zoe. They had the same texture.

  “Are these glyphs?” she asked the firebird. “Are these giant-ass glyphs?”

  It cooed.

  “Yeah, thanks. You’re a big help.” No wonder her hair had been standing on end since she’d entered. The magic within the stones alone could blow up another Wonderland. Or an Avalon.

  Something glinted at the corner of her eye from the farthest corner of the room, almost hidden in shadow. Despite her trepidation, she approached.

  It was a large mirror. The ripples across its surface gave way to a clearing, a familiar cluster of trees.

  “Oh no,” Tala said. “No. I didn’t go in the first time, and I’m not going in now.”

  “There is no escape.”

  Tala turned, focusing her agimat just in time. It caught the deluge of hailstones, melting before they could reach her, but a few escaped the barrier, cutting into her forearms. She jumped back, and an ice maiden drifted forward, her eyes bright with a vicious hunger. This was a different woman, likely the other one Ryker said had passed with him into Avalon. Another barrage slammed her against the wall, knocking the wind out of her.

  “The Nine Maidens,” the ice maiden gloated, stepping carefully around the circle of monuments while Tala gasped for air. “The central spell powering Maidenkeep. I shall present Avalon’s heart to my queen, and only I will be honored above all others.”

  “Real careless of you guys not to take it when you had the chance back then,” Tala wheezed, trying to edge her way back out the door. The firebird had soared up to the ceiling, and Tala could no longer see it.

  But the ice maiden lifted her hand, and ice slowly grew over the entrance. “The castle was overwhelmed before we could claim its spells.”

  “What do you mean?” Tala wheezed. “You put Maidenkeep under ice!”

  “This was not my queen’s doing, little Makiling. My queen brought the frost to Avalon, but something else froze the castle, forced her to abandon the kingdom before she could find the sword and conquer the maidens. We had always believed it was the castle def
enses at work.” The ice maiden laid a hand against one of the stone monuments, the energy crackling against her palm. “And now we shall take what is our due.”

  “What you’re going to take,” said a voice behind her, “is a mouthful of fire. Burn her.”

  The ice maiden snarled, whirling to face Alex, who was staring back at them through the transparent layer of ice that had formed over the exit.

  It was the wrong threat to concentrate on.

  A great roaring sounded from above. Tala looked up to see a raging furnace bearing down on the ice maiden, enveloping her in a huge fireball. The firebird flapped down, took a deep breath, and let loose another torrent of fire.

  Alex lifted his hand, and the ice barricading the passageway melted at his touch. He walked to the center of the stone circle, and the energies flowing around it parted to grant him entry.

  “Alex?” Tala could see the circle’s energies shifting, linking to Alex’s form. It was like he was serving as their living conduit, letting him tap into their magic. A strange taste filled her mouth, more sensation than anything else: the scent of flowers, a soft breeze, a babbling brook, sunlight against her face. It felt like spring.

  “I’m sorry.” Alex raised his hands, and the lights followed the path they shaped. “I told you I had a curse, Tally. The frogs were only part of it.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Protecting Maidenkeep. Like I did all those years ago.” One of the stone monuments glowed a bright emerald, the air growing even chillier than before. “This is Thoronoe, ‘elemental’ in the Avalon language—a green-marked glyph. Avalon kings could use it to control the weather, if they wanted to. I wasn’t strong enough then, but I am now.”

 

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