by Bo Burnette
“I know.”
“And I know it doesn’t come from any of these realms.”
“Where do you think it comes from?”
She pressed her palms against the table. “From the realms beyond.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “So you think there are realms beyond?”
She didn’t answer.
He thumbed through a sheaf of verdant stalks. “Your friend’s wound is deep. I’ll do what I can, but do not have much experience with this serious of a wound.”
She nodded gravely. “It’s all right. Brallaghan’s life is in God’s hands.”
“God’s hands?” Orlando dropped the stems. “This is real life, you know—not some fairy-tale.”
“Sometimes I wonder if there’s a difference.” Arliss released her grip on the table. “Even real life holds a lot of magic. That’s what makes it real.”
Turning from his shelves with a grunt, he picked up one of the lamps. “It’s not in here—the remedy. Hold the lamp for me, will you? I need to check my stores farther in.” He handed her the light and motioned for her to follow him through a passage similar to the one leading in from the other side of the cavern.
She raised the lamp and followed him into the darkness.
They emerged into a lush clearing that was precisely the opposite of what she had expected. The passage didn’t lead to another cavern—or even to the base of the volcano, yet. Instead, they stood in a grassy glade, surrounded by a copse of trees. Sunlight filtered through a layer of both trees and clouds, casting a magical gleam across the dell.
But she sensed danger. Her throat tightened, and she swallowed.
Orlando stepped closer to her. “Thank you for bringing the light.”
She stepped back. “What is this place?”
“My little sanctuary.”
Her eyes opened wide. She herself had such a sanctuary—a tree-lined clearing in the forest of Reinhold. That sanctuary had been neglected of late. How much longer would it remain empty? She could not say.
Once again, Orlando had revealed another of his many layers. First the spy, then the assassin, then the prisoner, then the fighter, then the apothecary, and now this. It seemed he had a heart after all, despite what Philip thought.
Then her heart jumped again. The prickly feeling of imminent danger crept up her spine. “Orlando, where are your other stores? Isn’t that why we came here?”
He came closer, and she had to move back to avoid smacking him in the face with the lamp.
“I suppose I was bluffing. You’ll forgive me a bluff, won’t you, Arliss?”
“I—I don’t know.” She backed up farther, and her shoulder blades pressed against the rocky side of the hill. The towering volcano now stood behind her.
He continued advancing. “You are one of the most incredible people I have met. Thane was right when he said you were stubborn and a bit foolish. But he was wrong in so many other ways.”
He now stood within arm’s length of her. She cast him a wary glance as the back of her jerkin rasped against stone. He reached out and took her free hand in one of his own. The gentleness of his hand surprised her.
“What are you doing?” Arliss whispered. Her hand trembled around the glass lamp.
“You are beautiful.” His voice was almost hoarse. He reached for her right side, his fingers worming their way around her waist. Her skin tingled through the dress and jerkin. Leaning towards her, he started to move his fingers up her bodice.
She dropped the lamp, and it exploded into a thousand shards. Her hands now free, she shoved him backwards. Her face burned as she stomped across to the other side of the clearing. She had her bow strung before he recovered from the shock of being rebuffed.
He crunched across a thin layer of autumn leaves. “Arliss…”
She nocked an arrow. “Do not touch me like that again!”
He stuttered, “That’s not what I meant to do.”
“And yet you did it.”
He flipped the edge of his burgundy cape. “Come. The stores are farther on.” He walked past her and into the grove of trees.
Arliss lowered her bow. “How can I trust you?”
“You can’t.” Orlando smirked. “But you want to save your friend’s life, don’t you?”
Arliss groaned inside, feeling she was making a horrible decision. Only a minute ago she might have trusted him with anything if it would have saved Brallaghan. Now…
She stifled her everything and tramped after him.
They hadn’t walked far when the landscape began to change. The trees grew thinner and farther apart. Hewn stones stood at intervals, as if someone had wanted to mark a path. The air grew spicy with the scent of sand and saltwater.
They were almost to the other side of the isle. Arliss jumped atop a stone block, and her heart surged in her chest. Supposing the treasures were hidden on this side?
No, they couldn’t be. If they were, Orlando would never lead her straight to them. She leapt off the block just as Orlando picked up his pace.
“Come on, we’re almost there.”
“Almost where?” Arliss demanded. “I’ve had enough secrets.”
“To my storehouses.”
“You have two homes on one isle?”
“You could say so.” He stopped. They had come to an immense stone doorway, much taller and straighter than the other secret passageway. This one had been crafted by human hands. A single word had been carved into the stone lintel: fáinne.
“What is that word?”
“An ancient word.”
Arliss fingered the stone, trying to peer through the opening. She could see and hear the crash of waves, the screaming of gulls. Other sounds tickled her ears as well: shiny, metallic noises; creaking, wooden noises. She slit her eyes. “These stones are not ancient, though, are they?”
“Are they?” Orlando didn’t flinch, didn’t even smirk.
“For the last time, tell me what this place is.”
“It defies explanation. You have to go in for yourself.”
“You’re tricking me.” She squeezed the leather grip of her bow.
He shook his head. “I promise you, there are answers within. No need for any more interrogation. You’ll find answers to all your questions here.”
“If you have double-crossed me…” She clenched her teeth and stepped through the doorway.
The fresh smell of the ocean overwhelmed her senses with happiness, but her elation melted as she looked around at the stone walls and sloping cliffs that confronted her. The stone entrance spread around in a semicircle, creating a fortification with an entirely open back. That open side overlooked a short dropoff into the ocean.
A deep, melodious voice boomed towards her from the right side of the fortress. “Arliss—twice in one week! It’s extremely good to see you.”
Thane started towards her, fingering his scar with one hand and his sword with the other.
Arliss made a run for the cliffs.
Chapter Nineteen: The Captain
ORLANDO BURST THROUGH THE STONE ENTRYWAY AND POUNDED across the fortress’s dense stone after Arliss. Why wasn’t she trying to return the way they’d come? She was fleeing towards the cliff—he wondered why—while Thane stalked towards her with his sword upraised. The other warriors closed in on all sides.
She stumbled across something at her feet, and she paused to stare at it. Orlando gritted his teeth. It was the vault. Unless she was especially thick, she’d figure out at once what that vault meant.
Orlando reached in his jerkin for his knives. His hands clenched empty fabric. He swore. Of course—Arliss still had them in her jerkin. He didn’t care for using bare fists on a woman, but this woman was different. He took a step closer.
She stopped, an arrow instantly at full draw. “Don’t come a step closer—any of you!”
“Arliss, be reasonable.” Thane’s tone was reprimanding.
She flinched towards him. “Reasonable? With you—you maste
r of all unreasonableness? I think not!”
Orlando decided to take control of the situation. Thane would probably kill him, but no matter. Thane had threatened worse things than death before. Orlando attempted a smile. “Arliss, go ahead and put down the bow. We’ll parley like sensible people.”
Thane cast Orlando a piercing look. “He’s right.” He shoved the words out. “Lay down your weapons and let us talk.”
She kept her bow tense. “That sounds like the beginning of an ultimatum.”
“It is,” Thane said. “If you don’t concede to our demand, we will fetch some bait. And I know how well you respond to certain kinds of bait.”
Arliss looked like she wanted to explode, but she lowered her bow. “Fine. I will talk to you from here—not a step closer.”
“Very good.” Thane’s lip twisted. “Now remove your arrow.”
She made a show of removing the thing, only to keep it in her hand. She appeared to be sheathing it in her quiver. Orlando squinted at her hidden hands. What was she really up to?
Apparently Thane did not notice. “Now that you are being reasonable, I am ready to answer any question you have. I am also ready to not answer any question which I do not elect to answer.”
“Oh, I understand entirely.” Her gentle voice masked a grating undertone. “Let me start with a simple one. Why are you here?”
“It’s an advantageous location, you could say.”
“Does it have anything to do with this?” She prodded the vault with her foot. Orlando winced. She was far too clever.
“Perhaps it does.”
“Is one of the treasures hidden here?”
Thane thought a moment. “No.”
Arliss laughed. “I’m afraid I won’t believe that. Another question. Who are you working for, really?”
“Myself. Whom else?”
“It’s not possible.” Her left arm hooked through her bow as she fumbled with her arrow.
Orlando stepped forward. “Thane, she’s—”
Thane sighed. “Orlando, the agreement was that none of us step closer to each other. I’m afraid the princess has bad breath this afternoon and does not want to inflict anyone.”
Arliss straightened, once again gripping her bow normally. “That’s not the reason why.”
She drew back her arrow, shot it perfectly into a heathery crevice by the cliffs edge, and gripped the rope which she had tied around the shaft.
Then she jumped from the cliff.
Orlando reached the cliff’s rim before anyone else. Kneeling, he tugged the arrow out and cast it over the cliff. A soft thump echoed up from the sand below, but he couldn’t see her. She must have been keeping under the rocky overhang.
Thane pounded over stone behind him. “You fool! You let her escape!”
Orlando leapt to his feet, his cheeks burning. “No, you did, by allowing her to form an escape right under our noses. I tried to tell you.”
“Do not lecture me,” Thane hissed. “Go after her, now!”
Orlando huffed. “A weapon would be nice.”
Thane thrust his sword into Orlando’s hand. “This will have to do, whether you think it does or not. Now go! I will not have my prize escape between my fingers.”
Orlando jumped, bracing himself for the impact of the sand fifteen feet below.
Arliss scuttled along under the sharp overhang of rock, her boots carving divots in the sand. The ocean beside her tumbled across itself, reflecting the darkening sky. She had to get back to camp and warn the others before Orlando caught up with her—or worse, Thane did.
How could she have been so blind? All this time, Thane’s new hideout was on a Reinholdian claim. He’d probably been hiding there these past two days since their encounter, biding his time. And Orlando knew all along.
Her footsteps rustled as the sand started to blend with wild grasses. Finally the sand all but disappeared, and she was dodging clusters of citrus trees. The shadows had begun to lengthen. The light would be gone by the time she reached the camp. The thought of camping in the dark—with Thane at their very throats—spurred her on.
A sick feeling seized her stomach. Philip was right. For all his fierce obstinance, he was right. He had tried to tell her not to trust Orlando, and now they would all pay for her credulousness.
Or was it that? Hadn’t she known, deep down inside, that something was amiss? Yet she could not help but follow him. Even with this new twist of character, the burgundy-caped spy still intrigued her. He was a riddle cloaked in a mystery.
Something pattered behind her. Then it crunched, and Arliss knew someone was following her. She nocked an arrow but still sped forth towards the camp.
She burst through the trees and into an eerie silence. The campsite had been emptied—ransacked. The beach, too, lay empty but for a bellyaching seagull.
Arliss scoured the woods. Not a sound or movement stirred them. All that meant was that Orlando was nearby but keeping quiet.
She stepped farther into the campsite, her mouth dropping open. They were gone. So much had been left in their haste—Philip’s tent, the remnants of a fire, a lone arrow that must have belonged to Erik. What had happened? Had they fled, or been taken?
The toe of her boot overturned something. She bent down to pick it up. It was a notebook, tiny and leatherbound, whose pages had been sewn together by hand.
Ilayda’s notebook. Lord Adam had sewn it for her for a Yule gift two years ago, and she had carried it with her ever since. Arliss shivered, clutching it to her chest. Yuletide would be here soon enough again.
The sun disappeared over the other side of the isle, and the beach turned gray and colorless.
Arliss looked out to the east. The fog cleared on the bay. And a magnificent ship floated towards the south end of the isle.
She stuffed the notebook into her jerkin as she stumbled across the beach to get a better view of the ship. It was easily as big as Thane’s, but not so dark, and no dragon flag graced its mast.
She bumped against an abandoned longboat. She stared at it, then back at the many-sailed ship floating around the southern tip. Her stomach tightened, and she exhaled firmly. Whoever manned this ship had stolen her friends. She felt it in the deepest part of her being. Now, she had every duty to go after them.
Someone slammed into her from behind, knocking her headfirst into the boat. She scrambled, thankful once again that her skirt wasn’t a typical skirt. She pulled herself to the other side of the boat just as her assailant jumped in as well. The force of their bodies pushed the boat off the shore and into the rising tide.
Arliss levied an arrow at Orlando’s heart. “You backstabber.”
“I didn’t stab you in the back.”
“You would have, if you’d had your knives.” Arliss felt the boat floating aimlessly eastward.
“That’s not true.” Orlando raised a sword which flickered in the light of the moon. “In fact, I could have had your head rolling into the long boat.”
Arliss smirked. “You wouldn’t want to do that my lovely face, would you?” She had the upper hand. If he advanced at her, she could stick an arrow in him anywhere and debilitate him. He saw it, too.
“I want you to hand me the sword, Orlando. I want you to trust me. My friends have been captured.” She looked to the ship that was disappearing around the curving arm of the bay. “I’m going to help them.”
“Why should I trust you? You can’t start rowing. After all, I could stab you through the moment you sat down at the oars.”
“You should trust me because I promise you freedom.”
“Freedom from what?” he spat. “You?”
“From Thane. You’re a slave—I can see that. You respect him, but you do not love him.”
“I do not love anyone.” His voice was bitter as blood. “I do not need to love anyone. And I don’t need to be freed by you, either.”
“Then why do you want to come with me?”
His eyes caught a flicker of moonlight. “Wh
y do you want me with you?”
“Because…”
He leaned forward, eyebrows twitching impatiently.
She sighed. “Because you’re afraid. Afraid of Thane, of the whole world. I think you might even be afraid of me.”
Orlando didn’t speak.
“But you don’t have to be this way. Help me. Do the right thing. God can free you.”
Orlando rolled his eyes. “This fantasy game again.”
“This is real.”
“Really?” he scoffed. “Prove it. Show me your God. I want to hear him speak.”
She swallowed. “He’s not some ghost, to be summoned at a whim.”
“Maybe—” he gritted his teeth “—because he’s not real.”
“Then what are you doing? What’s the point of fighting if you’ve got nothing to fight for?” She lowered her arrow. “If there is no God, there is no good. There is no meaning. And in that case, this is a bloody sad world we live in.”
He glared at her for a moment. Then he flipped the sword and handed the pommel to her. “Fine. I’ll help you. Now put down your bow and help me row.”
Arliss paced the dip of the oars so as to make them as stealthy as possible. They’d been rowing for nearly ten minutes, and were gaining swiftly on the ship. Despite its vast size, the vessel was not going full speed ahead. It slogged along in a dead wind, passing the south tip of the island and continuing straight west.
So the ship was not one of Thane’s—or, at least, it was not berthing at his fortress. Whose was it, then? And where was it going? The things she had heard of that lay due west resided solely in books of legend and history.
“Why’s he moving so slowly?” Arliss asked.
Orlando shrugged as he lifted his oars out of the water. “The wind’s died down. His only other option is to put out oars and row. My guess is either he’s trying to avoid detection, or he just doesn’t care much how fast he gets to his destination.”
“Where is his destination, I wonder?”
“With a citrus cargo, there’s only one place he could be going.”
She frowned. How did he know what this ship would be carrying? Her attention whirled on Orlando. “Why would he be carrying a citrus cargo?”