“You are not nobody,” grinned Eltor. “I told Mistake and MistyTrail that I would not leave this island without you. They promised to rescue you, and here we are.”
“Just where are we?” asked Caldal as he tried to peer further into the darkness.
“We are in a small cave,” answered MistyTrail as she cast another healing spell. “It connects to a mine. That is how we found Eltor. We rescued him from the mine.”
“This makes no sense to me,” frowned Caldal. “How can you go around rescuing elves? Why are you not in the mines or the temple? How is it that you are free?”
“They are not from this island,” explained Eltor. “I know this is confusing to you as it was to me, but I will explain. Their ship crashed off the coast of the island. Somehow they managed to get ashore without being detected. They hid in this cave and accidentally discovered the mine that connects to it. When they saw me, they decided to rescue me. I demanded to rescue you before we fled this island.”
“Flee?” croaked Caldal. “We tried that once already. I will not dare it again. I will never return to the Chamber of Horrors. I would rather die in this cave.”
“That is the gratitude we get for risking our lives?” scowled Mistake. “We rescued you, and we are taking you away from here. I will not hear any more about this Chamber of Horrors. It didn’t seem like anything more than a prison to me.”
“A prison?” retorted Caldal. “You could not be further from the truth. You have no idea what goes on in that room.”
“Tell us,” MistyTrail said soothingly. “It would be good to get it out of your system. There is nothing worse than harboring your fears deep inside you. Tell us all about it.”
Mistake frowned, but Eltor nodded encouragingly. Caldal swallowed hard and nodded almost imperceptibly.
“I do not know if I can adequately describe what causes the fear,” Caldal said softly. “It was not any one thing, but a combination of things that tore your soul from its body. They did things in that room that are hideous and evil, things that man was never meant to witness, but we could not turn away from them.”
“What do you mean you could not turn away?” interrupted Eltor. “Surely you could have closed your eyes or turned away?”
“We could not,” Caldal shook his head. “By whatever magic they used, each of us was forced to watch. Our eyelids would not close, and our heads would not turn away.”
“What were you forced to watch?” MistyTrail prompted when Caldal’s eyes shut tightly and he stopped talking.
“They sacrifice people there,” Caldal replied after a moment of hesitation. “They do not just kill them. They devour them alive.”
“Alive?” gasped Mistake. “You can’t be serious.”
“I wish it were not true,” Caldal replied as tears welled up in his eyes. “I saw them eating a man’s heart. It was still in his chest and beating. When they bit into it, the blood spouted into the air. It was…”
Caldal shut his eyes again and began sobbing.
“Maybe this is not such a good idea,” Eltor said softly to MistyTrail. “It is bad enough to have endured such things, but to be forced to retell them is to relive them.”
“It will help him in the long run,” MistyTrail replied as she wrapped one arm around Caldal in a soothing fashion. “You will never have to return there,” she said to Caldal. “I will pledge my life on it. Get it out of your system.”
Caldal nodded slowly and opened his eyes. He smiled weakly at MistyTrail.
“There were other things that I did not understand,” Caldal continued unsteadily. “They summoned demons. They were hideous beasts, all black and foul smelling. They would bite into a victim’s throat and drink his blood. We could hear the cries of the victim grow fainter as his lifeblood drained away.”
“I apologize,” Mistake said softly. “I had no idea what you were forced to endure. I am sorry.”
“Perhaps the worst,” Caldal continued as if he was afraid he would never finish if he stopped talking, “were the kruls. They were allowed to fight over a chosen victim, perhaps merely for the entertainment value. Maybe as a treat for some good behavior. I just don’t know. The victims were literally torn apart limb from limb as the kruls squabbled for ownership. Sometimes the victims remained alive for half an hour as they tore him apart.”
“Enough,” Eltor said with authority. “I do not wish to hear more. This talk will only demoralize us further. Our time is better spent planning what is to come.”
“I agree,” added Mistake. “There will be time later to cleanse Caldal of the demons that haunt him. We must continue to heal him so he is strong for the journey home.”
Caldal turned and stared into Eltor’s eyes. “I am never going back there,” he said with determination. “Take the girls and flee if you wish, but leave me with a knife. I would rather die than return to the Chamber of Horrors.”
“I doubt that we can flee this island,” Eltor responded. “While the garlic did put the kruls off our scent, the mountains are crawling with soldiers now. We dare not show our faces outside this cave.”
“They will not search forever,” interjected Mistake. “We will wait them out until it is safe to travel. We have plenty of food here. Sooner or later they will give up the search.”
“Do not be so sure of that,” warned Eltor. “Every search that I have heard of ended with a capture or death. These people do not give up.”
“Neither do we,” MistyTrail said adamantly. “We will leave this island, and we will all leave together.”
“And where will you get a boat?” retorted Eltor. “Do not rule our lives with impossible dreams. Trying to escape is what got Caldal sent to Chamber of Horrors in the first place. Do not tease us with the unobtainable hope of our homeland.”
“Nothing is impossible,” countered Mistake. “We will get the boat from the same place that we stole the uniforms.”
“Where did you get the uniforms?” Eltor asked with curiosity.
“There is a lone house along the beach,” explained MistyTrail. “It is just past the edge of the jungle. I think it is a lookout for stray vessels. They have a boat that is larger than the one Mistake and I lost off the coast.”
“There are only four guards stationed there,” added Mistake. “I am sure that we can surprise them.”
“But what about the sails?” Caldal asked as he sat up with interest. “Surely, the stolen ship will be spotted by other lookouts? They will pursue us with a vengeance.”
“I haven’t worked that out yet,” admitted Mistake. “If it were not for the reefs offshore, I would suggest leaving at night. That would cover us until we were far from the island, but those reefs would destroy our boat before we got started.”
“We shall ask Kaltara for help,” shrugged MistyTrail. “He has not let us down yet.”
“I still find it strange every time you mention the elven god,” commented Eltor.
“Why is that strange?” asked Caldal. “Kaltara watches over every elf.”
“These female elves are not from Elvangar,” Eltor informed his friend. “In fact, they did not even know that they were elves. They come from a strange and distant land. Mistake claims to have been to Angragar.”
“Angragar?” echoed Caldal. “That is impossible. The ancient human city is hidden from all eyes.”
“All eyes except the Qubari,” retorted Mistake. “At least that was true until just recently, but now it is the Time of Calling. The Astor has risen, and I am his close friend.”
“Time of Calling?” echoed Caldal. “The Astor? These words gnaw at my memories, but I cannot place them.”
“They do not matter now,” interrupted Eltor. “If our only problem is getting past the reefs, Caldal and I can accomplish that.”
“How?” asked Mistake.
“We have done it before in strange waters,” offered Eltor. “One of us will swim the reef and find a passage. The other will guide the boat with a short sail.”
“I
f need be,” interjected Caldal who was now sitting erect, “we can walk the ship across the reef. It can be done.”
“So you are not going to stay in this cave and commit suicide?” grinned Mistake.
Caldal frowned and his eyes widened as he stared in the direction of Mistake’s voice. Finally he started laughing softly.
“It was I who talked Eltor into escaping the last time,” he admitted. “I guess it is in my blood to return to my home. I want very much to put this island behind me.”
“Hold your excitement for now,” warned Eltor. “While this plan has promise, we must remain prepared for failure. We were confident the last time. Remember?”
“Let there be no talk of failure,” interjected Mistake. “We all have great reasons to escape this land. We will follow our plan or die trying. None of us will be captured alive. Are we agreed on this?”
“Agreed,” Caldal said promptly as he reached out and grasped Mistake’s hand.
Eltor and MistyTrail repeated the oath and clasped hands with the others.
* * *
The Star of Sakova walked through the gates of Gatong. She had visited the city years ago as a young girl, but her memory of it was dim. The more recent memories of her escape from the assassins at the Academy of Magic sent a shudder through her. She had avoided entering the city on that trip when Antello had given Syman a signal not to enter. The memories sent a chill up her spine. It seemed so long ago, and yet it wasn’t. She felt a sudden urge to travel further north to visit the academy that had been her home. She pushed the thoughts from her mind and moved away from the gate before the Imperial Guards thought to question her.
Lyra walked to the marketplace while letting her mind wander over how she should proceed. Her eyes stared vacantly at the stalls as she walked slowly by, but she did not see anything. She wondered whether she should approach the mayor or the resident general. The mayor was technically the decision maker in most Omungan cities, but it was the general who actually controlled the troops. Without the support of the general, the mayor was nothing more than a figurehead, yet most generals would be loath to exert their power without the backing of the mayor. It was a circular question, and Lyra sighed in frustration.
“Are you alright?” asked a local woman.
Lyra started and turned to look at the woman. The woman appeared to be around her mother’s age and Lyra’s mind instant flashed to an image of Rhodella dying on the floor of the Academy of Magic. A tear instantly formed in the corner of her, and the woman put her arm comfortingly around Lyra.
“What troubles you, young one?” asked the woman. “If it is lack of food, I can spare what little I have. Come to my home.”
Lyra suddenly saw the stalls around her. While merchandise was abundant, the food stalls were bare. Her eyes roved over the passing citizens, and she saw the signs of famine in each and every one of them. She started to cry.
“Come, come, now,” urged the woman as she started guiding Lyra away from the marketplace. “I’ll get you a hot bowl of stew. It’s nothing fancy mind you, mostly scraps of whatever I could gather, but it will ease those hunger pains. There is no need to cry.”
Lyra was speechless as the woman guided her to a modest home. She found her mind replaying the images of the starving people in Duran rather than focusing on what she needed to do in Gatong. Before she knew it, the woman had seated her at a table and placed a bowl of stew before her.
“Eat now,” urged the woman. “Things will be better soon. You just need your strength. Where are you from?”
“I cannot eat this,” Lyra said while shaking her head. She pushed the bowl towards the woman. “I cannot take your food. I should be giving you food, not eating yours.”
Lyra started crying again and the woman moved around the table and placed her arm on Lyra’s shoulder.
“It’s alright,” the woman said soothingly. “I already ate today.”
“And what about tomorrow?” sobbed Lyra. “What will you eat when I have finished off your stew?”
“Tomorrow is another day,” shrugged the woman. “I will worry about it when it comes. Eat while it is hot.”
“No,” Lyra said adamantly as she rose.
Lyra opened her pack and began removing her trail rations. She piled them onto the table, as the woman’s eyes grew wide. When she had placed all of her food on the table, Lyra sat back down and started crying. The woman walked around the table and sat in her chair. She stared at the small pile of rations, and then gazed at Lyra.
“I don’t understand,” the woman finally said. “If it is not hunger that troubles you then why do you cry so much at the mention of food?”
“Because I have the ability to bring food here,” explained Lyra, “and I have not done so. Your people are starving because of me. I cannot do what is expected of me. I just can’t.”
“You have a story to tell,” the woman said softly. “My name is Shel, and I am a good listener. Tell me what troubles you.”
Lyra sniffed and gazed into the woman’s eyes. She tried to smile as she saw a bit of Rhodella in the woman’s face.
“I don’t know where to begin,” admitted the Star of Sakova.
“Start anywhere,” urged Shel. “Why have you come to Gatong?”
“I came to speak with the mayor or the general,” confided Lyra. “I am supposed to strike a bargain with them, but I cannot.”
“Strike a bargain with Mayor Robit and General Papper?” questioned Shel. “What can a young girl offer to men of power? Do not tell me that you are so desperate in life as to offer yourself? Do not do so, child. Whatever your problems are, we can work them out. Tell me what your needs are.”
Lyra wiped the tears from her eyes and stared at the woman. She took a few moments to compose herself before speaking. Shel waited patiently.
“My journey here concerns the needs of the citizens of Gatong,” Lyra declared. “I have the ability to send large quantities of food into the city. That is what I have come to offer to the mayor.”
Shel looked quizzically at the young woman. Her eyes narrowed appraisingly as she studied Lyra’s face.
“But you want something in return for the food?” asked Shel. “What is it that you seek from Gatong?”
“That was the plan,” admitted Lyra, “but I cannot do it. I should have sent someone else to negotiate.”
“And why can’t you do it?” asked Shel. “The people of Gatong are starving. If you have food to share, you must do so.”
“And I will,” promised Lyra. “I would not be human if I refused to deliver the food after seeing the citizens of Gatong.”
“Then everything is wonderful,” probed Shel. “Why do I suspect that you see this gift as a failure for some reason?”
“Because it is a failure,” explained Lyra. “The food that will be delivered had a price attached to it, but I cannot ask for payment now. Excuse me, please.”
Lyra walked to the door of the house and stepped outside. She inhaled deeply as she wove an air tunnel and directed it towards the sea. It took her a few minutes to locate Emperor Marak’s ship off the coast, but she quickly delivered the order to bring the food into port. When she turned to reenter the house, she found Shel standing behind her.
“Was that magic?” asked Shel. “Or are you crazy?”
“I am not crazy yet,” Lyra answered as she slid past the woman and returned to the table.
She sat down and grabbed a piece of dried meat from the pile of rations on the table. She ate slowly and was only peripherally aware of Shel sitting opposite her.
“Is there really a ship of food coming into port?” asked Shel.
“There is,” nodded Lyra. “There will be enough food to feed the city for a few days. There will be other ships following it.”
“Who are you?” inquired Shel as she stared at Lyra.
“My name is Lyra,” answered the Star of Sakova. “I grew up not too far to the north of here.”
“At the Academy of Magic?”
gasped Shel. “I remember the ruckus when the academy was attacked. There was a young woman named Lyra who escaped. That is you, isn’t it? That is how you know magic.”
“It is me,” conceded Lyra.
Shel’s mouth opened wide and her eyes grew large as she stared at Lyra.
“Rumors say that young Lyra went on to become the leader of the Sakovans,” Shel said softly. “Is that what your problem is? You were supposed to offer food to the city in return for peace? Is that your plan?”
“That was my plan,” admitted Lyra. “The Imperial Guards will no longer allow our caravans to deliver food to Omungan cities, so I arranged to have it sent by ship. I was supposed to get the mayor to pledge to stay out of the war in return for food. I have failed.”
“Posh,” replied Shel. “You have not failed at all. It will still take some time for that ship to dock. I will take you to Mayor Robit myself. I am sure that he will agree to your conditions. The people of Gatong do not care for war in any event. What has he got to lose?”
“Why would he make any agreements when he will get the food anyway?” asked Lyra. “Besides, I cannot negotiate such a thing when I already know that the food is coming regardless of what he says.”
“You did not ask for any conditions when your caravans came here,” stated Shel. “Those caravans saved many people. Your ships will save many more. How can any Omungan want to kill people who are so generous?”
“Omungans will do what the Katana demands,” answered Lyra. “That is how it has always been.”
“Do you believe that we Omungans are evil?” asked Shel.
“Of course not,” frowned Lyra. “Why would I think such a thing? I grew up as an Omungan. The Omungans in the east have welcomed me to their cities, but Gatong is not the east. The Katana’s rule is much stronger here.”
“Do you send food to the eastern cities of Omunga?” asked Shel.
“Every day,” nodded Lyra. “Actually, they are no longer Omungan cities. Zaramilden, Duran, and Alamar have become Sakovan cities.”
“You conquered them?” gasped Shel.
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