Ashes

by C B Samet

  “I’m not sure. None of us have been exposed. If I am exposed, I’ll want to wait a few days to ensure I’m not contagious. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say a week—but it could easily be longer. I brought enough food and clothing for the children for five days.”

  “We’ll manage.”

  When we finally reached the beach, it was easy to follow the footprints to the children. I looked down at my moccasins as they left prints in the dry sand, side-by-side with the small footprints of my children. Beyond the sand, shimmering emerald water stretched to the horizon, darkening in the distance to a deep sapphire. Gentle waves lapped the taupe sand.

  “The beach is so beautiful. It’s breathtaking no matter how many times I see it.”

  I thought of Mal, who loved the beach.

  He instantly appeared beside me, walking yet making no impressions in the sand. “Did someone say beach?”

  I arched an eyebrow at him.

  “I shouldn’t be denied the pleasure of beautiful scenery.”

  “Indeed.”

  “What was that?” my mom asked.

  I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m anxious to get to the castle and check on Joshua.”

  “And leave this serenity behind?” Mal asked.

  I ignored him.

  My mom called to the children to come say goodbye. Trad tried to coax them over, but they evaded him and continued playing.

  “Ungrateful urchins,” Mal commented.

  I shot him a warning look.

  “It’s okay, Mom. They’re having fun. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I suppressed my disappointment that they weren’t rushing to hug me goodbye. After I embraced my mom, I walked away from the beach, reluctantly leaving my family behind.

  “In their defense,” I told Mal, “I always leave and I always return. They don’t understand the danger of the current situation. They don’t know they should give me a proper farewell.”

  “Ungrateful and spoiled.” He smiled. “And they’ll miss you.”

  I arrived back at my mother’s house as Bellok, my stepfather, unloaded the last of the trunks.

  “Oy! That’s a heavy one.”

  “Paul likes his books.”

  I followed him as he lugged the trunk inside and deposited it on the floor.

  “Thank you for that. I’ve filled Mom in on the details. I hope to be back in a week.”

  “No problem—as long as you know that’s an abundance of days your mother will have to spoil them.”

  “Well, if you need to enforce a little discipline, remind them you’re royalty.”

  He chuckled. “None of that, Abigail.”

  Bellok had been a prince of Bellos, though a distant fifth in line for the throne. He was traveling on a diplomatic mission to Crithos over twenty years ago when a storm had taken him off course and shipwrecked him on Mulan. Andi, the sea serpent, brought him to Misty Isle. Bellok’s life since then had been that of a simple farmer and father. His hardworking and honest personality meant no one doubted his claim to royalty, but we all enjoyed teasing him about it. I’d asked him once if he ever wanted to return home. This was his home, he’d replied. He had all of the riches he needed on this island.

  We walked back to Brawny and the wagon.

  “Do you want to keep the horse here?”

  Bellok considered the question. “Yes, leave him. We’ll put him to good use.”

  “I thought you might. I put a pad of hay and bag of feed under the carriage seat.”

  “Be safe, Abigail.”

  “Always.” I gave him a farewell hug and vanished.

  I returned home and found the quiet stillness of the house disconcerting. In my bedroom, I pulled a rectangular chest from under the bed and brushed at the dust on its surface. As I opened it, the smell of cedar filled my nostrils.

  My champion attire lay inside, unused for eight years. I slipped on the black leggings, boots, tunic, and silver breastplate. I’d thoroughly cleaned and shined everything before storing it, yet all the pieces bore the scars of battle. I ran my fingers along the smooth, red cape. It was the only unworn piece of clothing. During the Hunju civil war, eight years ago, I’d shredded my original cape to fashion red armbands out of the fabric; which we used to identify friend from foe on the battlefield. Although I’d replaced that piece of the outfit, I hadn’t had occasion to wear it yet.

  After dressing, I fastened the new cape to the shoulders of my breastplate and reached for my sword—a Ballik blade, forged in the icy mountains of Karnelik. I had sharpened it before stowing it; but the blade still bore small scratches and gouges from use. Terrible use. I had shed blood during the Hunju civil war. The end result was new leadership and less discrimination, but the cost of the lives lost in the conflict seemed like such a high price to pay.

  Finally dressed, I took a deep breath. I was prepared to offer my services to Queen and country. By Mal’s imagery, I knew Crithos faced a crisis, and it would get worse before it got better. I had to help fight a plague, which meant battle armor wasn’t likely to be the most suitable outfit. However, it was the attire that would earn me instant recognition as the Avant Champion at the castle and thereby facilitate a fast-track audience with the Queen and her ministers.

  From outside the house, I heard the battle cry of a bird of prey followed by the terrified screech of another bird. My pet hawk, Carrot, was evidently protecting the perimeter. Why she thought other birds were a threat remained a mystery. Still, she was a loyal companion, and I sensed she watched over the children when they played outside. Although I hadn’t seen any dangers near our house, bears and wolves were known to wander too close to civilization and take farm animals and small children. It felt good to believe Carrot was looking out for them.

  Less than thirty minutes had passed since seeing my children, and I was already missing them. These would be a stressful few days—but at least I knew Natalie, Paul, and Rebekah were safe.

  I transported and appeared at the inner castle gate. The hefty wooden doors were shut. I gazed around the outer courtyard, observing the well-trodden ground stretching between the outer walls and the inner walls. Normally, shopkeepers had open storefronts set up there, and street vendors lined the wall selling fresh produce, baked goods, flowers, clothing, accessories, and more. Now, desolation had replaced the usually thriving marketplace.

  An eerie chill ran along my spine.

  I knocked on the large doors. “Open the gate!”

  A guard from the watchtower called down, “Gates are sealed by order of the Queen!”

  “Tell her the Avant Champion requests entry.”

  “I’ve orders that no one enter. Be off with you.”

  So much for a polite entry.

  Instead, I transported to the inner courtyard. Once there, I walked past the larger than life-sized alabaster statues of the six previous Avant Champions and towards the doors that lead to the meeting rooms of the castle. The courtyard smelled pleasantly of blossoming pink sweet peas as I strode through it.

  “You there! Halt!” A guard dressed in armor marched toward me, his royal blue tunic embroidered with the insignia of a silver horse.

  I didn’t stop walking toward the doors.

  He ran around in front of me, drew his sword, and pointed it toward my chest.

  I stopped and regarded him. “You’d better know how to use that thing if you’re foolish enough to threaten me with it.”

  His throat bobbed, but I could tell the guard didn’t know me by my reputation. He was young, eighteen maybe, with trim blond hair. He’d have been just a boy when Crithians fought the forces of Malos.

  The most recent time I had arrived at the castle wearing the armor of the Avant Champion had been eight years ago, and even then only the inner court had known of our scheme to help the Hunju with their civil war. It explained why he didn’t recognize me or offer the deference the Avant Champion usually received.

  My plan to limit my notoriety by avoiding courtly functions might have wor
ked to my detriment today.

  In the seconds he stood before me with uncertainty, five more of his fellow guards rushed to the young man’s aid. They surrounded me, their swords drawn.

  “I am—”

  “Surrender your sword. You’ve trespassed on castle grounds.”

  I glared at a different, older man—the one with the audacity to interrupt me.

  “I don’t surrender.” Taking a step back, I drew my sword.

  The older guards, knowing who I was, braced themselves, but they didn’t retreat. The young ones looked confused, witnessing what they presumed was a regular woman boldly prepared to fight six guards.

  The first of the guards lunged. I parried and struck his sword with enough force to rattle his arms. Another swung from behind me. I blocked, spun closer to him, and kicked my boot heel into his knee. He fell to the ground with a grunt.

  Two more moved toward me, swinging. I blocked each of them, grateful Baird’s training included fighting multiple adversaries. The challenge of my current situation was to disarm these guards, and teach them a little humility, without causing serious injury.

  Perhaps I needed to make a habit of carrying a stick instead of a sword, like Baird did.

  I transported—vanishing and reappearing instantly behind one of my attackers. Confused, the two other guards stumbled through their next swings. With the flat of my blade, I smacked one of them on his rump. He let out a howl of surprise and pain as he turned to take a wild swing at me. I caught the wrist of his sword arm with my left hand, flipped my sword around in the grip of my right, and then popped him square in the forehead with the blunt end of the hilt.

  The guard stumbled backward, and I wrenched his sword from his grip as he tripped over a decorative pot of flowers.

  Four guards remained on their feet—four swords against my now two blades.

  “Enough!” A woman’s voice boomed.

  The guards straightened and sheathed their swords.

  I looked up at Coco DeFay, standing in the doorway to the inner castle.

  “Captain DeFay,” I greeted her cheerily, waving my captured sword in hand.

  Coco strode toward us, her blond ponytail swishing like the tail of an irritated horse.

  “I appreciate the welcoming party, but tea would have sufficed.” Not ready to sheath my own sword or relinquish the one I’d deftly confiscated, I held them both casually pointed towards the ground.

  Coco cracked a slight smile—before correcting her expression and glaring at her men. “Do none of you recognize the Avant Champion?”

  The eldest guard stepped forward. “Yes, Captain. But she trespassed and didn’t explain herself.”

  I scowled at him. I’d been interrupted before I’d had the chance to explain myself.

  “You’re dismissed,” Coco snapped. “Back to the wall.”

  I tossed the one humiliated guard his sword back as the six of them dispersed.

  “It’s good to see you, Coco.” I sheathed my sword.

  “Good to see you, too, Abigail. Are you here to help?”

  “However I can, against a plague.”

  I gauged Coco’s reaction. Her expression suggested more suspicion than surprise.

  “What do you know of the illness spreading?”

  We walked inside the castle and down a towering corridor.

  “I know it fits with the symptoms of the Omega plague.” I paused for effect, but her continued calm demeanor suggested Coco didn’t know just how cataclysmic such an infection had historically been.

  I looked around. “Where is everyone?”

  “Last night, when it was clear people were falling ill, we cleared out the outer market and shut down the gate,” Coco explained. “This morning we started screening citizens for red splotches on their skin before they’d be allowed inside—but by the afternoon it became evident the sickness had already breached the inner castle.”

  We took one of the stairways and started the winding climb upward.

  “Now we’re keeping the throngs of people from overtaking the castle.”

  “Who’s ill?”

  “Probably half of those inside the castle, including Queen Rebekah and much of the court.”

  “The Queen?” My stomach lurched.

  “Yes. She manifested the rash about an hour ago.”

  We finally reached the top tower.

  I followed Coco’s gaze over the stone edging and to the land beneath us. Below, hundreds of tents had been erected, spread across the grounds outside the castle. Since I’d transported directly within the castle walls, I hadn’t even seen those left suffering outside the walls.

  “Those are the sick, and the few who’ve volunteered to help them.”

  I thought of the poem Sunny had read to me.

  See the devastation of the disease,

  Smoldering in the breeze.

  Death destroys hope with decay,

  Indiscriminately, every life is prey.

  I swallowed. “The disease kills within five days of the rash.”

  “That’s what Joshua said.”

  I turned to her. “Did Joshua say it was the Omega plague?”

  She shook her head. “He didn’t have a name for it, but the people who had come to his clinic all gave the same report. They lost their loved ones two days shy of a week.”

  “Crithos,” I swore. “Can Joshua cure it?”

  “It seems he can slow the course but not reverse it.”

  “He can’t do that indefinitely.” I thought of how the stones worked, taking some element of the user’s life force. “Please, take me to him.”

  She nodded grimly. “I’ll take you to the deliberation room.”

  I followed Coco as we made our way to the deliberation room. When we quietly entered the large room, quarreling voices could be heard from the far end.

  I looked around the large room, with its high arches towering above us. The last time I’d been in here it had bustled with activity and the seats were filled with citizens from all across the country, each waiting to discuss issues with the court. Now, only a handful of people milled around the front of the room, and they seemed to be conversing while attempting to keep their distance from each other.

  Joshua stood nearest the Queen. Tarik, Minister of Foreign Affairs, paced the room. Holden, Minister of Strategic Defense, sat looking exhausted in a chair, his grey robes wrinkled and his beard yellowed. There were a dozen other people, a mixture of ministers and council representatives; some of whom I recognized, and others who I didn’t. They were all too engrossed in discussion to notice our appearance.

  Mal materialized to my right and watched silently.

  “I need time to work on a cure,” Joshua was saying.

  “You said yourself: You don’t even know where to start.” Tarik continued to pace, his hands clasped behind his back. “You said something about needing to find the first patient infected.”

  “Yes. If we can find the source of the disease, and the first people exposed, those who survived might have developed a defense mechanism in their bloodstream that I can mimic.”

  “How long would that take?” Holden asked.

  “Finding a survivor and replicating the serum could take weeks,” Joshua admitted.

  “We don’t have weeks,” Tarik protested.

  “The city will be a graveyard by that time,” Holden added.

  Another man nodded. I suspected, by his light blue robes, that he was one of the castle healers.

  Joshua lowered his head and added, “There are no guarantees I can synthesize a cure, but many healers have cured other diseases this way.”

  Cure.

  I whispered quietly, “Stone of Blood, Stone of Health, save the lives considered wealth.” Sunny had mentioned references to a magical cure in the history books.

  Coco cocked her head to one side.

  I looked at Mal. “Could there be a magical cure?”

  “Orrick would know.”

  I nodded.
>
  “Who are you taking to?” Coco asked.

  Ignoring her, I walked toward the front of the room. All eyes turned to me in surprise.

  “My Queen.” I bowed.

  “Abigail!” Joshua said. “You’re not supposed to be here!”

  I frowned at him briefly. He might have at least shown some relief to see me.

  “I sent you a messenger bird.”

  “I’ve been a little busy,” I retorted. Then, I recalled Carrot accosting a bird and wondered if that poor thing had been the messenger.

  I turned back toward the Queen. “There may be a magical cure.”

  “We’re listening, Abigail,” the Queen said.

  I rose from my bow. “The pattern of infection suggests this is the Omega plague.”

  Joshua’s face blanched.

  I continued talking over the murmurs of disbelief. “I’d like to consult further with Wizard Oak—Orrick Dallik—in the Black Marsh forest. An ancient poem claims a blood stone and healing stone can be used to stop the disease.”

  Queen Rebekah wasted no time in her reply. “Consult with him. Return to us tomorrow to report what supplies are needed.”

  Tarik flashed a dazzling white, politician’s smile before speaking, “Perhaps Captain DeFay can accompany you. Two sets of ears are always better for instructions this important.” Tarik’s request suggested I wasn’t to be trusted with Orrick’s instructions.

  He had no grounds to distrust me—and I suspected his distrust reflected his own untrustworthy character.

  I smiled sweetly in return. “I have no objections to Coco’s company.”

  “If this is the Omega plague, we need to warn others,” Holden suggested.

  The Queen nodded once. “We can deploy messenger birds, but we can’t send runners—or we risk spreading the disease.”

  She turned to me. “We will see you back here before dawn.”

  I gave a slight bow. As I turned to leave, Joshua walked beside me. I noticed he didn’t touch me.

  “The children are at my mother’s.”

  “Good thinking. Did Mal suggest the Blood Stone?”

  I inadvertently glanced at Mal who had continued to linger by the entrance. “No. I spoke with Sunny. She read me a poem. Mal suggested Orrick may know more.”