The Larimar Quest (Island Of Zarada Book 1)

by Michele Evans

  Miranda wondered what she meant by that, but decided to leave it for another time. She turned back to the barred hole. “Are you okay?” Miranda asked Anaya.

  Anaya looked away. “Don’t talk to me.”

  “We may both die in here,” Miranda said.

  “I won’t be dying,” Anaya retorted, turning her head.

  Miranda, stung by the words, said, “You’d leave me behind if you had the choice?”

  “This is a quest, remember? We’re competing against each other. I’m going to get out of this cell somehow, find my potion, transform, and escape. Then I’ll grab some stones and go home. You can figure out your own plan.”

  Remembering

  A Deamon guard floated over the tops of the prison cells, unlocking and opening one ceiling hatch after another, lowering a tray into each hole. They had to keep the prisoners alive, but the “food” they served was unrecognizable – more of an unidentifiable green slime. Miranda and her grandmother watched in disgust as their trays hit the floor. Neither of them ate.

  “So you know everything?” asked Miranda.

  Angala answered, “Yes. My clairvoyant powers were powerfully acute while I was a doken.”

  Miranda was confused. “I don’t understand, Babu.”

  “What don’t you understand, my butterfly?” Angala asked.

  Miranda hesitated. “It’s just that....”

  “Yes?” encouraged her grandmother.

  Miranda lowered her voice to a whisper. “... Well, I don’t want to be Sultana ... and Anaya does. Part of me wants to let her have it.”

  Suddenly Astriella popped up from Miranda’s pocket. She stretched and yawned. She realized she was not in Miranda’s pocket after all, but that of an old woman. “What happened? Where are we? Who are you?” asked Astriella.

  “We were captured by the Deamons, we are in their dungeon, and this is my grandmother,” said Miranda, laughing.

  “Ohhh, I see,” Astriella said, before realizing how preposterous it all was. “What?! I thought she was … but, how did she get here?”

  “Hello, fairy friend,” said Angala.

  “Nice to meet you...,” said Astriella.

  “… Angala,” interjected Miranda. “She was that doken following us all this time,” Miranda explained.

  “Ah ha! That’s why she kept pecking at your potion,” said Astriella, happy with her powers of deduction. “That’s wonderful! But where’s Findy? And Beast?”

  “They must be in another cell.”

  Angala looked seriously at Miranda, taking her hand. “My dear, I’ve decided what we need to do.”

  “You mean you know a way out of here?” Miranda asked.

  Angala smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I know these Deamons pretty well by now and I’ve outsmarted them more than a few times.”

  Miranda smiled back. “Tell me something first. Why were you unable to come back home to us?”

  Angala looked off into the distance, stirring her memory. “It was a trip like all the others. I had harvested the stones undetected so many times before; I thought nothing of my comings and goings anymore. I became careless.

  “That day, I didn’t check the sky properly. You see, I had discovered that the Deamons go into a trance when the sun is at a certain position in the sky. I think it’s a kind of sleep for them. One unfortunate day, I miscalculated. By the time they came falling out of the sky to capture me I barely had time to take a swallow of potion.

  “I drank it down before the guards reached me, and transformed into a doken, and luckily flew off just in time. What I didn’t know was that the potion was stale; it had lost some of its potency. It allowed me to become a doken, but there wasn’t enough strength in it to change me back again. After I remained in that form for more than a couple of hours, I knew I was never going to change back.”

  Angala reached up and stroked Miranda’s hair. “I have thought of you every day since then, wondering how you were growing up, angry that I was trapped in that feathered body, unable to reach you.”

  Tears streamed down Miranda’s cheeks. Angala wiped them away and gazed at her granddaughter with all the love she had. “Now. What to do about Anaya?”

  Miranda thought for a moment. “I can’t leave her here.”

  “Good girl. Tell her now.”

  Miranda hesitated.

  “Go on.”

  She reluctantly climbed up and peered through the hole in the wall again. Anaya was crouched down, despondent. She spoke without looking up. “What do you want now?”

  Miranda gently answered. “You won’t be able to do it alone … get out of this place, I mean.”

  Anaya’s eyes shifted away. “I can’t make a deal with you. You’ll betray me,” she said.

  “I won’t.”

  “I can’t take the chance that you’re lying to me.” Anaya stood up and stretched her legs. “Who’s that you were talking to?”

  “My grandmother,” Miranda replied.

  “Really?” Anaya knew her grandmother had gone missing. “She was here all along?”

  “Yes. And she knows how to escape.”

  “Why is she still here then?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  Anaya still avoided looking at Miranda, and dug a heel into the floor. “I don’t need you. Or her.”

  Miranda persisted. “We can beat the Deamons if we work together.”

  Anaya smirked. “You’re just trying to trick me so you can use me to help you escape and then you’ll leave me here to rot,” she said snidely. “I know how it works.”

  Miranda felt her anger rise. “You sound like your mother. I always wanted to be friends with you. She’s the one who pulled us apart.”

  “You know we can never be friends,” scoffed Anaya. “Ever.”

  Miranda felt the tears and the anger coming on like a churning river. “I’m sorry that I was born first. I’m sorry I love Grideon. I’m sorry ... about ... everything.”

  Anaya tried to stifle the feelings flooding over the dam in her own heart. She cherished the times when she and Miranda had played together. They would sneak off together and run through the woods, exploring the worlds of their imaginations.

  They were very young; but even then, they were aware of the tension between their mothers, and they vowed in their innocence to be loyal to each other forever. They had sealed this pact by interlocking their fingers together. But that was long ago....

  When they grew old enough to start Warrior Training, Selexi became increasingly strict about knowing where Anaya was at all times, ultimately keeping her away from all potential friends. Miranda was hoping time would heal the rift, but Selexi’s bitterness only seemed to sharpen and grow stronger as the coronation grew closer.

  Anaya stayed friendly with Miranda as long as she could, but Selexi’s influence became too overpowering. Selexi finally managed to convince her daughter that Miranda had in fact stolen her right to rule as Sultana, so Anaya learned to be as bitter and angry as her mother was. Still, Anaya was confused at times. Somewhere deep inside she loved Miranda, but wanted to be obedient to her mother.

  Miranda stood up and slid her fingers through the narrow hole. “It’s not your fault your mother turned against me. And it’s not my fault I was born first.”

  Anaya looked up at the outstretched fingers. At this moment, her mother seemed very far away, and was unable to help her. She had to think for herself and make her own decision. What do I have to lose? She stood up and laced her fingers back through Miranda’s. They said nothing, but their eyes locked together in understanding.

  Miranda climbed down and returned to Angala. “I have so many questions to ask you,” she said, taking Angala’s hand.

  “Like what?”

  But there wasn’t time. The Deamon guards entered the dungeon without warning. They had come for Miranda. The guards roared at Angala, who was trying to stop them. They growled at her and prodded her with a metal rod, forcing her to the back of the cell. “Take m
e instead!” she cried.

  Miranda tried to resist, but couldn’t free herself. She reached up to the back of her neck and unhooked the goddess pendant, tossing it onto the floor as she was dragged away. Angala gasped at the sight of her necklace, which had landed outside the cell.

  The door slammed shut and Angala cursed her own helplessness. Miranda was pushed so hard that Astriella was jostled and tossed out of the cloak pocket. She quickly zoomed back to Angala.

  The pendant lay on the floor just outside of reach. Astriella flew to it, and dragged it close enough for Angala to pull it through the bars and she gripped it helplessly as Miranda was taken away.

  Selexi as Predator

  Alone in her castle quarters Selexi surveyed the view from the large library window. She was impatient for darkness to descend. As soon as the trees turned black against the cobalt sky, she pulled on commoner clothing, placed a crone’s mask over her face, slipped out the back door, and headed for the Fairy Forest.

  If she were caught, it would mean immediate execution or a lifelong sentence. So she always stalked the fairies under the cover of night.

  With all the hungry creatures lurking after the suns went down, fairies were most vulnerable at night. Many of them went missing each season. They were told repeatedly not to fly at night and to travel only in groups during the day. But there were times they had to fly alone.

  Of course they did this with great reluctance and trepidation, knowing they were easy prey for carnivorous birds, oraks and, on occasion, larger beasts. They certainly had enough to worry about without Selexi lurking in the shadows.

  She entered the forest and hid herself behind the massive trunk of an ancient tree, one she had used for this purpose before. Occasionally she went home emptyhanded, but tonight she was to be in luck. After a short time, she heard the buzz that belied the approach of a fairy, followed by a soft glow. She positioned herself just so, held out her net and caught the little thing, just like that. She felt the familiar tug, accompanied by the sickening whine of stuck fairy wings, and the shrill voice crying for help, which she found dreadfully annoying.

  “Be quiet, you!” she barked.

  Although the fairy continued to howl in distress, no one heard and no one came.

  When they got back to the lab, the terrified fairy was thrown into the cage with the kera.

  “Kill the fairy,” said Selexi coldly.

  The hapless fairy crouched in the corner and sobbed as the kera approached, gripping its hands around her delicate neck, and strangling her until dead.

  Escape Plan

  On Sarona, the sun was reaching its apex and Angala was monitoring the time closely. She peered out of a crack in the cell wall, measuring the position of the sun. Almost there. She glanced at Astriella, who was poised and ready, then she took another look through the crack. It’s time.

  One by one, throughout the lair, the floating Deamons collapsed inward, fading and turning to small pale wisps.

  Angala nodded to Astriella, who flew out into the hallway, then took a shortcut through crevices in the walls until she reached the main room. Once there, she retrieved the keys, which were right where Angala said they would be, and came back and handed them to Angala, who unlocked the door.

  Anaya watched Angala turn the key in the lock and open her cell. She didn’t leave immediately. She was still caught between her mother’s will and her own. Angala, in a rush to escape, called back over her shoulder as she departed, “This is your only chance!”

  Anaya examined the open door. I have to get out of here, and if be through their help, then so be it. It doesn’t mean I have to do anything for them. Once I’m safe, I’ll go my own way.

  Angala guided everyone through the elaborate labyrinth, passing the “sleeping” Deamons. They moved briskly and entered the main room and retrieved their swords, which had been haphazardly piled in a corner. Miranda was next to Satrah; they were both in a trance, their eyes red and pulsating.

  Angala located Anaya’s potion. She unlocked the cages, removed the wires and forced some first into Satrah’s mouth, then into Miranda’s. They began coughing and convulsing. Anaya tried to gather stones from the chest, but Angala shook her head. “Those are not potent anymore – they’ve been separated from the stalks too long. Leave them.”

  Angala helped the girls up. “Let’s go!” she commanded. “They’ll be awake soon!”

  Miranda and Satrah fought their dizziness and stumbled along as they wove through damp tunnels, and past sleeping Deamons. Seeing a flood of light up ahead, they raced toward it.

  Coming out into daylight, they spotted the camions, grazing quietly. They hopped on, galloped across the field and lifted up into the sky. Angala rode on Cavalo with Miranda. Findy and Beast piled on with Satrah and Anaya mounted her camion.

  In full sunlight, the brilliance of the field was dazzling. The stones glowed and sparkled like a thousand red suns shooting a million crimson rays. Angala shielded her face with her hands and squinted. They only had a few more seconds before the pursuit would ensue.

  In the lair, the Deamons came out of their trance. When they discovered that their prisoners had escaped, they let out howls of alert, sending squads of guards rising up to bring the prisoners back.

  It was the hottest time of the day with full sun exposure and Angala knew the Deamons wouldn’t last very long under these conditions. The heat could burn them away in a matter of minutes. But the Deamons were swift and fast, and they caught up with the Young Warriors, who fought them off with their swords, slicing through wisps that vaporized into thin air. When they got close to the parameter, they knew it was their last opportunity to harvest stones.

  “Now!!” shouted Angala.

  Miranda and Anaya dove straight down to the field, slicing off Red Larimar stones by the bunch, and made their way to the wall. Just before reaching it, they rose steeply and soared upwards, toward the forcefield, which confused the Deamons.

  “Hold your breath,” Angala commanded. In a moment, they broke through the transparent energy forcefield and burst out the other side unscathed except for a damp film that stuck to them – harmless residue from the barrier.

  The Deamons, unable to risk being exposed to the harsh rays of the suns any longer, howled in defeated anger as they returned to the lair. Some of them had indeed stayed out too long and were disintegrating; after a small flare, a puff of smoke was all that was left.

  Miranda and Anaya led the group on a freedom flight over the trees and mountains, Red Larimar stones overflowing from their bags, and from far away they looked like jewels trailing across the sky.

  When they arrived at the elf village, a celebration meal was prepared. They sat around a fire, ravenously eating and drinking. After the festivities, it was time for much needed sleep. But Angala asked Miranda and Anaya to stay at the fire awhile.

  Angala stared into the flames and took a deep breath, nodding wisely. She looked at both girls. “You each have a responsibility to resolve this. Miranda, you begin.”

  Miranda focused on the fire, poking at the embers with a long branch. “Anaya, what are we going to do?”

  Anaya resisted the urge to bolt. She didn’t have to sit here and talk about anything. Still, she was curious to see if she could secure an advantage. “I should take the throne. Everyone knows you don’t want to be Sultana, and I’m more capable. Clearly.” she smirked. “Seems simple enough to me. Give up your claim to it.” She narrowed her eyes. “I won’t even fight for Grideon. You can have him.” She turned to Angala. “There. Resolved.”

  Miranda ignored the comment about Grideon. “Your mother would have too much power if I let you be Sultana. I don’t trust her to do what’s best for our people. And I don’t think you can keep her under control.”

  Anaya shrugged and threw a twig into the flames. “She’s just an eccentric scientist with big ideas that will never come to pass. It’s all harmless enough.”

  Miranda pulled her feet closer to her body and
wrapped her arms around her knees. “Maybe.”

  Angala said, “You know, you two are not so different. In fact, you have something in common. It was long ago, before you were born, but I think you’re old enough to know the truth. Did you know your mothers were in love with the same man?”

  Miranda shook her head.

  “So?” asked Anaya, feigning disinterest.

  Angala continued. “Dargon was married to Selexi, but he didn’t love her. He only married her because she was the Sultana’s daughter and his parents had arranged the marriage when they were young. He really loved Athedra.”

  Miranda shook her head. “No. That can’t be. My mother would’ve told me.”

  Anaya shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”

  Miranda looked with new eyes at Anaya. “But if it is true....”

  “We’d be sisters,” Anaya said.

  “Half sisters,” confirmed Angala. “You are a great warrior, Anaya, and would make a worthy Sultana. But I’m sorry to say that your mother’s heart is not pure; and if you become Sultana, life as we know it on Zarada Island will be destroyed forever. Miranda, you have to fight for the title. It is you, Anaya, who should give up any claim to the throne.”

  The bit of warmth that had been shared between the girls discovering they were sisters cooled to an icy silence. This was bigger than either of them and they knew it. It was plain now. Even if Miranda didn’t want to be Sultana, she had to try. And Anaya would not surrender.

  Anaya felt compelled to continue the challenge. She just had to attempt to win a title she was supposed to have had as a birthright and had pined for her entire life. She had suffered a moment of weakness when her survival had been at stake. She had let herself get carried away by old memories – the sweetness of their early friendship.

  It had been foolish to think Miranda would give up the throne just like that or even entertain the idea that they could be friends again. Besides, she wasn’t sure she believed they were sisters. That story could have been a deception they came up with to crack her will. Well, it wasn’t going to work.