“Come on,” Epik said. But Gerdy was searching the arena for Myra. “I’ve already tried to find her. Come on. He could have put her anywhere.”
“I can’t leave her!” Gerdy cried.
“I can still hear you,” the Grand Sovereign hissed. “Revealio,” he exclaimed, pushing the magic from his palms.
Nothing happened. Epik’s spell was unbroken.
“We have to go!” Epik tugged at Gerdy. When that didn’t work, he had no choice but to use more magic. He levitated her and dropped her on the prancing black mare. He did the same for himself on Buster. Neither horse needed encouragement. They bolted out of the Coliseum, running through walls and people as if they weren’t even there.
40
My Sister's Keeper
Where are you going?” Gerdy called. Their cloak of invisibility only seemed to work on outsiders. Epik could see her. She could see him. And they both could see the horses. He had never worked the spell this way. It was like there was a bubble around them.
Epik turned toward the castle.
“I thought we were leaving. Are you going back for Myra?”
“No,” Epik said. “Yes. I don’t know. Listen, I’ve got to go back for Kavya.”
“Oh, so you get your love, and I don’t. That’s fair.”
“Listen, I’m sorry.” Epik was flustered. “I make this up as I go12. I’ll look for her, but I think Myra’s meant to stay here. You saw what happened; she’s not under his spell.”
“No,” Gerdy said. “But she’s under another. You know her servant?” Epik nodded. “She uses blood magic. She’s bound Myra here somehow.”
“That’s great,” Epik said.
“How is that great?”
“No,” Epik shook his head, “not great. It’s just, it’s just I think know what I have to do. Listen, you go. Meet me where we last camped with Coe. I’ll be there soon.”
“That’s what they always say.” Gerdy and Lucille stayed behind as Epik and Buster raced away.
Epik could just make out when Gerdy said, “And it’s hardly ever true.”
“I’ll be back,” he promised, even though she couldn’t hear it.
He was a ghost, gliding through walls, invisible to anyone. Still, Epik’s heart hammered, knowing the consequences were dire should he be caught. Sir Dom wasn’t there to help him this time. But he had to save Kavya.
Kavya, Epik thought, rushing to the servant’s quarters. He bounded through the kitchen and the laundry. Finally, he found the small corridor of rooms that the slaves called home.
Where is she? Which one is hers?
He found Kavya kneeling beside a bed, praying or hoping or both.
“We have to go.” He revealed himself.
“Epik,” she said, taken aback. “What are you doing here?”
“I—I’ve come to save you.”
Kavya’s eyes widened. “No,” she said timidly. And at that moment, the door opened.
“We don’t have much time,” a servant girl said to the room. Epik recognized her as the one from the stairwell. The one with the orange eyes.
“My lady.” Kavya bowed to her.
“Who—who is this?” Epik asked.
“Epik,” the girl reached out to touch him, but Epik jerked away. “My name is Ashah,” she said. “I’m your grandmother.”
“You’re my… You’re my what?”
“It’s a long story. One you deserve to hear one day.” She motioned to herself. “This is a disguise. I hardly know what I truly look like anymore. Here’s the Cliff’s Notes version.”
“What’s Cliff—”
“It’s… It’s, never mind. Anyway, many, many years ago, I cursed the Grand Sovereign. He would never have children. He would never produce an heir. I thought the curse would make his reign short and not-so-sweet—only a lifetime. But he learned magic that I never imagined existed. His powers grew while mine diminished.
“I knew that one day he would become so powerful that I wouldn’t stand a chance against him. I had one last trick up my sleeve. I disguised myself as a princess and I married him. I gave the Grand Sovereign a child. He believed that his powers had grown so strong that he himself had lifted the curse. He had me, the queen, killed. That didn’t work out so well. He’s married other women and tried to have more children. That hasn’t worked out so well either. I stayed here. I watched my son grow, helping when he needed me.”
“Is this how Cliff Notes work?” Epik asked. “Maybe I should just read them for all my stories.”
“No, you lose a lot of the detail.” Ashah touched his cheek. He didn’t pull away this time. “Epik, I’m here to help you. Because you are this kingdom’s, the realm’s only hope.”
“Then you’ll help me get Myra and Kavya out of the castle?’
Ashah shook her head sadly. “The magic that binds Kavya here is too powerful.”
“It’s what I was trying to tell you,” Kavya said, her voice breaking.
“And Myra, she’s well-guarded. Listen, I don’t begin to know the ins and outs of Gabriel’s plan. His Shadow and I only spoke briefly before it was extinguished.”
“What?”
“It’s no matter. Nothing we can do now. Gabriel has always played with time and plan. You’re the one who needs to escape.”
“Why? What can I do? What about Kavya? I’m ready to do whatever it takes.”
“I’m sure you are.” Ashah’s eyes filled with tears. “But you still need training. The way Gabriel went about it, thinking you only needed to know so much, thinking those books held the answers.”
Epik saw that Kavya’s eyes were welling with tears, too.
“There are witches deep in the forest close to World’s Eye. A coven, each with a special gift, each can teach you one important thing.”
“There’s no time to train.” Epik’s mind whirred with questions and thoughts. “Dune All-En is under attack. The Grand Sovereign will recover.”
“I have sleeper agents everywhere. You’ve met some. Kavya I gifted with the ability to sense magic.” Kavya smiled through the tears streaming down her face. “The knights, I gifted magic—to show the people that hope still exists in King’s Way. Sir Dom may have demonstrated that bravery is foolish. Something we’ll need to repair. I gave some of my magic to Gerdy. And I’m gifting the last of it to you, Epik. You will need it in the times to come.”
And with that, a warm sensation rushed through Epik’s fingertips and up his arms, flooding his whole being. Then the girl, the servant, Ashah, his grandmother, vanished without so much as a puff of air.
“How is she going to tell me the whole story now?” Epik asked.
Kavya hiccupped a slight laugh. “Look what she did for you. You are the realm’s last hope.”
“No,” Epik shook his head. “I’m only one of many. Are you sure I can’t break you free? There has to be a way.” He thought, Where there’s a will, there’s a—
The door crashed open. But it wasn’t who Epik would have expected. He reached for his wand, but Kavya pulled him away, stepping between him and Catarina. If her yellow eyes were any other color, they’d have been red.
“I knew you were conspiring with him.”
“Cat, no,” Kavya said.
“Step aside, sister. You do not understand what you are dealing with.” Catarina drew a knife. “You think you are the only one with magicks, little man? One drop of your blood is all I need to bring your world to an end.”
“That’s it,” Epik said.
“What’s it?” Kavya asked. She pushed him back as Catarina advanced on them.
“Your blood, that’s how you’re bound here. Her will and the blood that connects you.”
Catarina’s eyes went wide. She lunged at Epik. Kavya threw her hands up in a defensive motion, meant to save Epik.
But Epik didn’t need saving, not from a knife. The moonstone Kavya had given him would protect him from that.
Kavya’s stone would save Epik, and in return he cou
ld save her. Epik found the courage inside himself, remembering how it felt when Sir Dom entered the arena. He bound that with the magic, old and new, picturing the strong will in Catarina’s mind. Like Buster’s, like his mother’s, like Gerdy’s. Strong wills, mental resolve—can be broken.
Epik shattered Catarina’s into a thousand shards of meaningless thought. She fell to the floor, soul broken, but alive.
The knife fell to the floor, unmarred by any blood.
“What did you do to her?” Kavya asked.
“Nothing she didn’t deserve. Let’s go.”
Epik reached out his hand, and the two disappeared.
41
The Lightning Knight
At first, Gerdy had nudged Lucille in the right direction. Epik wanted them to leave. Epik wanted to be the hero. But Epik wasn’t in love with Myra. He was going back for someone else. He was going back to do something else. Gerdy could feel it, she was Myra’s only hope.
Lucille turned almost at Gerdy’s thought. The horse seemed to read her. “Thank you,” she told the horse. It was silly, but Gerdy thought she heard a female voice say something akin to ‘no problem.’
When they reached the castle, Gerdy dismounted and rushed through the door—literally through the door. There was no need to open them. She took the stairs by two and stopped at the landing. She was of two minds.
Should I save Myra or Sanchez first? she thought. Sanchez was the easier of the two. She got him, but didn’t know how to extend Epik’s vanishing spell. So, the cat floated improbably through the stairwells and corridors of the castle. She passed a few knights who were at least spooked enough by a floating cat to allow them to pass with ease.
Myra wasn’t in her room, of course. That would have been too easy. Gerdy racked her brain for a clue. Where was she taken when she was under Catarina’s spell? Always the sitting room—like that was the Grand Sovereign’s staging place.
Gerdy and Sanchez went down to the sitting room. And sure enough, there was Myra, bound to a chair. Wallack was guarding her.
But something happened when Gerdy entered the room. Like maybe Epik had undone the spell himself because Gerdy became visible again.
“Gerdy!” Myra said, half-dazed. “I knew you’d come.”
“I thought as much,” Sir Wallack said. “The Grand Sovereign said you might try something. You know, I do remember you. I remember you both. The worst students I ever had—how could I forget?”
Gerdy sat Sanchez down on the rug.
“What?” Gerdy cracked her knuckles. “Are you going to teaspoon me to death? Do you have a fork on you? Cause all I see is fat old knight between me and the one I love.”
“You’re right,” Wallack said, smiling. “What do I have to offer? I’m just a washed up old knight. It’s not as if I’ve fought with a sword my whole life.” The knight drew his sword from the scabbard. “Oh, and it’s not as if I have any magic of my own.”
Sparks of crackling blue energy twined up the sword, crackling and hissing. Wallack rested the blade on the back of the chair across from Myra. It cut through it like butter.
“No, I’m just an etiquette teacher. Not one of the greatest knights the realm has ever seen. When the Grand Sovereign recruited me, he gifted me these powers—some of his own. And he taught me how to get more. It’s as easy as plucking a child away from its mother.”
Wallack strode toward Gerdy. He brought the sword level with his eyes and gazed down the blade at her. “Oh, how I’ve longed to use these powers. And on you, this will feel so right.”
“Gerdy, run!” Myra screamed. She pushed herself back in her seat, afraid.
But Gerdy wasn’t afraid.
Wallack was like her. He only knew enough magic to get by. He wasn’t like Epik or the Grand Sovereign. He hadn’t studied. Gerdy only had to get past a sword. And she’d done that a dozen times before, whether it crackled with lightning or not.
Wallack swung, and Gerdy ducked beneath the blade. The old knight turned, but not fast enough. Gerdy swept one of his legs from under him. Somehow, he regained his balance. He lunged at her, and Gerdy somersaulted over the chair she had been tied to only days before.
A cushion rolled to the ground beside her foot. She picked it up. It was the worst shield she’d ever seen, but it would have to do.
Gerdy’s defense was lacking, she knew. But Gerdy also knew a secret. She smiled.
“What’s so funny?” Wallack circled the toppled chair.
“I was just thinking,” Gerdy said, “about the best defense.”
“And?”
“It’s a good offense.”
Gerdy charged. She tackled the knight, her shoulder buried in his gut. They both went down, and his sword clattered to the floor. It crackled one last time; the magic inside it extinguished.
Gerdy was just about to use it on the old man when the doors burst open. Chains wrapped around her wrists and she dropped like a sack of potatoes.
“Take them both up to their rooms—their separate rooms,” the Grand Sovereign said.
Behind him, several of the tournament knights were gathered. Two of them broke rank to follow his instructions. Gerdy recognized the chubby one that took her as Sir Puckett and the one with Myra as the Archer.
“Come with me,” she heard the Grand Sovereign say to the rest. “I believe I feel yet another disturbance in my castle.”
But the Grand Sovereign and the other knights didn’t leave the sitting room with the girls. Whatever the disturbance was, it could also be found in that room.
42
Mortal Engines
I have to do one more thing,” Epik said.
Kavya nodded. She trailed behind him, her hands clinging tightly to his. They passed through walls unbound and invisible. Soldiers and servants rushed by on their own errands.
When they reached the Grand Sovereign’s sitting room. Epik was focused on the fireplace and though Kavya tugged his arm, wanting him to look around at the inside, he didn’t.
“Where are we?” Kavya gasped as the fireplace began its dive.
“That void of magic in the city,” Epik said. “Well, it lives down here.”
What Epik found wasn’t to his liking.
Millie was curled in a ball on her bed, bawling, her hands over her face.
“Where are the others?” Epik asked her.
Mille couldn’t see them, but she turned to look anyway. “Is that you, ghost?”
“It’s me,” Epik said.
“They—they vanished. Turned to wraiths.”
“What are wraiths?” Kavya asked.
“Who’s that?” Millie said.
Epik was about to say something but—
“Perhaps I can answer that,” the cold voice of the Grand Sovereign seemed to suck the warmth from the chamber.
The fireplace could hold at least the Grand Sovereign and six knights, all with black irises like Todder’s. All with swords drawn.
“Reveal yourself, grandson.”
Epik complied, but he didn’t remove the spell from Kavya. And smartly, she didn’t say a word. The Grand Sovereign didn’t seem to realize it wasn’t Mille who asked what a wraith was.
Millie gasped. “You’re not a ghost?”
“No,” Epik said. “I’m a halfling. Part halfling, really.”
The Grand Sovereign sighed. “These are wraiths,” he said. “Jack. Ursa. Michael.”
Wispy gray shades of the children materialized from thin air.
“And these are just a few. Rest assured, they will kill. And a hundred more will bear down on your city.”
Now Epik put together what the book had meant. The Grand Sovereign had not just taken the children’s magic. He had taken their souls. All that was left of them were fragments, these wraiths.
“You caused this,” the Grand Sovereign said. “He cursed you, Jack, forcing my hand. I had to use your magic. And then yours, Ursa. It was all this halfling’s fault.”
But that wasn’t true. No one has t
o use magic, Epik thought. He realized now how wrong he was in the battle outside Dune All-En. Magic doesn’t have to be used just because you have it, he thought. Words are equally as powerful.
“Finish him!” the Grand Sovereign said.
“No!” Millie cried.
“It’s all right,” Epik said softly. He put his hands out, not that hands would do very much against a wraith. Then Epik spoke calmly and clearly, “I’m not the one who stole your magic. It was your magic. It was meant for you and you alone. It wasn’t unnatural. But what you are now is.”
Epik did use some of his magic, just a little. He bound those words with the agony he saw in Millie’s reddened eyes. Jack, and Ursa, they had been loved. Michael, too.
Understanding dawned in the misty gray faces of the wraiths. They stopped in midair.
“What are we?” Michael looked at his hands.
“You’re not ghosts,” Millie said encouragingly, wiping the tears from her face with a sleeve.
“That’s right,” Epik said. “You aren’t ghosts, but you can haunt him forever.” Epik pointed at the Grand Sovereign.
“We will,” Jack said.
The wraiths went for the old man, and he drew back, frustrated. The knights surged in front of him. Their blades had little effect on the wraiths but their magic, what little they possessed, took hold. And soon, Michael and Jack disappeared to nothing.
Epik was quick with his wand, shooting blasts of fire at the knights. Anger pulsed deep in the halfling’s belly with this knowledge of what the Grand Sovereign had done. How many lives had the old man stolen?
Still, Epik didn’t want to hurt these knights. He knew them. And this wasn’t their will. They were under a spell.
The Grand Sovereign laughed coldly.
“Mercy is for the weak,” the Grand Sovereign said from behind a knight. “Here I am, powerless. And you can’t strike me down because you won’t strike them down. What a conundrum! You could end it here, but you won’t. A classic hero.”
Knowing is Halfling the Battle_An Arthurian Fantasy Romp Page 20