RED PALACE FINAL Kobo

by Sarah Dalton

  But the Ember Stone will ever hide.

  “When Mummers came to Halts-Walden they sang that song. Legend says that the key to immortality is in the finding of a mystical black diamond. There are people who search far and wide, in the mines of the Haedalands and the peaks of…” I stop when I see how Sasha’s expression has turned very white.

  “It isn’t a diamond,” she says. “It’s an amulet. The Borgans know about it.”

  “They do? The legend is real?”

  “The legend is very real. It is a black stone set into a necklace. Little is written on the subject. They say it was created by an ancient king but was lost. He used it to live forever. It’s written in the craft-born journals.”

  “Where was it lost?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “Nobody knows. It’s all second hand knowledge and based on stories and songs.”

  “So how do you know it really exists?” I ask.

  “Because we worship it. In a sense, anyway. Our amulets are a tribute to the great Ember Stone. We fashion them from amber and it harnesses the power of the craft-born. Of course, they are nowhere near as powerful as the original.”

  “What would happen if the king found the Ember Stone?”

  Sasha raises her eyebrows. “He would be the most powerful king that ever existed. He would be able to use your craft. He would be invincible, too. No forged weapon could kill him. No disease or infection could harm him. He would live forever.”

  I shudder at the thought. “The king is hoping he can recreate the amulet. He thinks that it’s the diamond quality that could contain magical powers. That’s why he’s draining the resources in Cyne to keep the Red Palace production going. It’s not for riches, it’s for eternal life,” I say. I hold up one of the tiny jewels between my finger and thumb and stare at the faceted gem in awe. How can one stone grant someone eternal life? I can only imagine the power inside it.

  “You know what this means, don’t you?” Sasha says. “This is worse than we ever anticipated. He would rule as a tyrant forever.”

  “So would the Nix. Allerton told me how it contains the fears of its ancestors and how frightened it is of dying. If the Nix will one day die of old-age or disease, I think it would want to do anything in its power to stop that,” I say. “And when rumours travelled around Aegunlund about the king trying to make diamonds, the Nix must have decided to listen in on the king’s thoughts. It has that power, right?”

  Sasha nods.

  “That’s why it’s trying to manipulate me,” I continue. “How else would a giant slug like the Nix manage to achieve something so delicate? It wants me to find the Ember Stone and harness its powers. Then the Nix will manipulate me into handing it over. That’s why it cursed my friends. That’s why it’s wearing me down with these constant visions. It wants me weak and disorientated when I find it. That way I’m easier to manipulate.” I jump up from my chair. “But that means we must be close. The amulet must be somewhere in the Red Palace. We need to look!”

  “Don’t make any hasty assumptions,” Sasha replies. “We don’t know that the king has it.” She lowers her voice. “Perhaps the Nix only thinks he has it. Mae, consider this for a moment, the Nix is a large physical creature, one who is strong and powerful. But what it relies on is not its body, but its powers. The Nix has the ability to see thoughts. But thoughts are not always reliable. They are jumbled and confusing. You’ve read the King’s journal, you know for yourself. What if the Nix has been too hasty? What if the Nix hoped to find the Ember Stone before the king harnessed its power, and laid a trap to do so, but that trap came too early.”

  “What makes you think the king doesn’t have the amulet?” I ask.

  “Nothing concrete,” she says. “Only, why would he still fear death?”

  I let out a long sigh. “We can’t trust the visions. We can’t trust anything. I just wish we had some sort of proof. Or even a lead to go on. How am I going to free them?”

  “We’ll find a way,” Sasha says. Her eyes narrow and she juts out her chin in defiance. “The Nix will not get away with this. We’re going to stay here, and formulate a plan that ends with you scorching it like a chicken over a campfire.”

  “Sasha, I can’t rely on fire. I managed it once, but I’m not sure I can do it again. The visions are different because it’s as though my inhibitions are lowered. I know deep down it isn’t real. Or maybe it’s because the fear motivates me. I think we need a back-up, just in case.” I don’t say what’s really on my mind, that I don’t ever want to lose control like that again.

  Sasha’s eyes flash. “I have an idea!”

  Chapter Sixteen – The Sihrans

  “Are you ready?” Sasha asks.

  I’m not sure that I am, but then I’m not sure I ever will be for what I am planning to do. There’s no guarantee it will work. I don’t care. I’ve lived under the assumption that nothing is guaranteed. Not even my life. Not that it matters. This is more important than me. If I can accomplish what I must do, it could make Aegunlund a safer place for us all.

  “Do you really think this will work?” I ask.

  Sasha chews on her lip. “I hope so, Mae. Just remember what we discussed. You’re the one with the power, here. You’re the craft-born. The Nix is just funnelling some of your magic to run the curse. That means you can control your surroundings just as easily as the Nix can. It’s like the soul rip. You brought me here without even thinking. You can disconnect your spirit the same way. All you need to do is think where you want to go, and then you can gain control.”

  I nod. “Then I must use all my concentration.”

  I glance at the entrance to the laboratory. We should be safe inside the false wall, hard and unyielding brick, controlled by a lever inside the room. However, I can’t shift the anxiety of voluntarily leaving Sasha alone while I attempt this task. Both of us wish Sasha was able to touch and feel, but as it is, she cannot defend us, and I worry that she can somehow be hurt like I was in the visions. What else can I do? This is what we have to work with.

  “How do you know it will lift the curse?” Sasha asks.

  “It has to,” I reply. “This is the only way I can think to do it. The key has always been the fears. That’s how it takes control. If I can break through the fears I can weaken it.”

  Sasha nods. “And if that doesn’t work, you’ve summoned fire before. You can summon it again. You just need to believe in yourself.”

  I sit down on the small nest I’ve made out of the few cushions in the laboratory. Sasha sits next to me.

  “Will you sing?” I ask. “While I’m gone, will you sing? I think it will soothe me while I’m there.”

  “Of course I will,” she replies.

  Her voice is high and melodic, twisting and turning. She tells a tale of love in a ballad so sweet it could soothe me into a gentle sleep. My muscles relax one by one. First my fists unclench, then my abdomen loosens. My breathing steadies. My throat is no longer closed. I inhale deeply and concentrate on the task ahead.

  As soon as I lay my head against the pillows, the familiar sucking sensation drags me into a vision. But this time there is no riddle. There is no taunting voice in my mind. I am in control.

  *

  It’s a sunny day in Halts-Walden and I’m sitting by the mill. My skin is pale as milk, and my skirt spreads across the green grass. I’m Ellen. But this time I am in control. I can lift my arms. I can stand and walk. I can even control her thoughts.

  When Alice walks along the green lawns of Halts-Walden, my heart surges with joy. I stand up and take her by the hand.

  “What are you doing?” she says, her wary eyes meeting mine.

  “I need you to come with me and see my father,” I reply. “There’s something I need to say to him.”

  The birds chirrup in the neighbouring trees as the water cascades through the mill. It is a stunning day, one that makes me appreciate the beauty of my home village. A few weeks in the polluted
city of Cyne has made me realise how much I miss it. But I don’t ache for it, and I don’t miss some of the narrow-minded people who shunned me for being different.

  Being in Ellen’s body made me realise that we aren’t really that different from each other. We both had a secret hidden deep down, one that could change our lives forever. I hope, from the bottom of my heart, that Ellen is in this vision somehow, that she will see what I do, and I hope it gives her the strength to do the same.

  My hand reaches out to the door knob to the small cottage where the Millers live. My heart begins to pound. What if this doesn’t work? And just as the doubts creep in, so does the one sound that can make me go cold all over: click-ick-ick-ricker.

  “The Nix,” I whisper.

  “The what?” Alice asks.

  “Nothing.”

  I must keep concentrating, and keep control of Ellen’s body. I can feel her pulling away. No, this must come from deep within. It must be rooted in my powers in order for it to work. I take a deep breath and step into the kitchen.

  Ellen’s mother is stirring broth. She looks up from her work, and her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, hello dear. Are you coming in for some lunch? We have broth—”

  “Where’s father?” I hate to be rude, but I need to focus, and to get it done as soon as I can.

  But I needn’t have asked, because he strides in from the washroom, his hair damp and dishevelled from the water.

  “What’s going on?” he asks, eying Alice with some suspicion.

  “I have something to announce to you both,” I say, straightening my back. There’s a little voice at the back on my mind which knows what I am about to do. It knows, and it is terrified. It screams for me to stop. “I am in love with this girl.”

  Alice gasps. “Ellen, what are you doing?”

  “I am in love, and there is nothing you can do to change me,” I continue. A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead as the Ellen within me protests against what I’m doing. “I don’t care what you think. I don’t care if you think it’s wrong.”

  Alice wrenches her hand from mine and disappears through the open door. Seeing her go causes Ellen’s heart to twist. I wince and turn away from her. This isn’t real. It’s just a vision. But I need to remember that I can still be hurt.

  The miller stands with his mouth open wide. His wife is quietly sobbing into her dress sleeves. I’m waiting for him. I know his next action and I’m waiting for him, but Ellen is terrified. Her knees are trembling, and tears are close to erupting. She wants to fall to his feet and beg for forgiveness.

  I won’t let her. I am in control now.

  “What is this insolence?” he says at long last. “How dare you speak these things in my house?”

  “I’m only telling you the truth, father,” I say.

  He takes a step forward, and Ellen’s body jumps back away from him. I struggle to regain control and stop her from fleeing the scene. Her fear is trying to take over, but I won’t let it. This is my vision now. Not one controlled by the Nix. I force her to face her father and jut out her chin in defiance. Seeing this enrages him further, and he slaps her hard around the face. I feel the sting as though it was my own skin. Ellen’s mother whimpers into her sleeve.

  After the initial shock from the pain of the slap, I gather control, pull my arm back, and hit Ellen’s father squarely on the chin. Inside, Ellen—wherever she may be—celebrates.

  But then, the miller comes at me with the same look of rage in his eye that I remember from Ellen’s first terrifying vision. This is it. This is the moment where I can break through. I watch him, following his movements as he lurches towards me, and duck away from him. In an instant I am by the fire, picking up a heavy poker to defend myself with.

  The miller cowers away from me, raising his hands in front of his face.

  “Stop,” he says. “Please stop.”

  His wife watches with her jaw hanging open in shock. “Ellen what are you…?”

  I begin to lower the poker, when the miller jumps to his feel and lunges towards me. I have only a few seconds to duck away from him. The sight of his dark eyes will haunt me for a long time.

  Now, I raise the poker higher. But as I plan to strike down on him, part of Ellen takes control. She turns to her mother.

  The miller’s wife’s mouth is contorted in rage and there is a shiver that passes through Ellen’s body as she seems to prepare herself for her mother to join in the attack with her father. But then the miller’s wife narrows her eyes and nods.

  “Do it,” she says.

  Ellen and I have a mutual control which is thrilling to be part of. We both enjoy bringing the poker down on her bully of a father.

  The vision dissipates, and I am with Beardsley back in the tunnels of the castle. He is mumbling to himself, and running the sleeves of his robe through gnarled old fingers.

  I turn on my heel, forcing him to look at me.

  “The king has employed you to create a false black diamond, hasn’t he? He has forced you to use this castle for his own nefarious plot, and he wanted the magic of the craft-born to try and force his diamonds to give him immortality,” I say.

  Beardsley’s milky eyes lift up to mine. “But how did you…? Who told you…?”

  “I figured it out of course. I am no fool. You need to face up to what you have done, old man. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

  “Yes,” he says, his eyes unfocussed and confused. “The tunnel. It will never end if I don’t, and the spiders will be waiting for me, just like the bodies of all the people my weapons will kill. There will be many, you know. So many. I never had a daughter, but if I’d had one, I would have liked her to grow up like you.” He pats me on the head like I am far younger than my years, but I don’t mind. “Strong head, strong heart.”

  My cheeks burn as he utters the same words as Allerton. Are they true? Am I capable?

  “You must believe it,” he says. “Believe it and you will do it. Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to go and feed myself to the spiders.”

  I open my mouth to protest, but it’s then that I realise I should not be preventing this. I need to let Beardsley go. That is how I defeat this fear, not by fighting it for him, but by allowing him to be consumed by it. Only then will he move on from the guilt.

  Click-ick-icker-ick.

  It’s like cold molasses spreading over my skin. The Nix is somehow encroaching on my visions, it is trying to force its way in. I need to hurry. We both turn back in unison to see a jet of serum travelling towards us. Now it is appearing in its own visions, attempting to stop us from breaking the curse.

  “Run!” I shout.

  We hurry down the tunnel, with Beardsley shuffling as fast as he can.

  “It’s no good,” Beardsley says. “We can’t outrun it.”

  I glance back to see, with a heavy heart, that he is right. It seems unlikely that I will be able to fight against the Nix and keep Beardsley from coming to harm at the same time. I don’t know what would happen to him, seeing as it is a vision, but I don’t want to find out. The Nix being here breaks the rules of the last few visions, which indicates that anything could happen.

  But perhaps the breaking of the usual rules can work in my favour. Sasha’s words pop into my mind. I can take control. I can use my powers and change the outcome of the vision.

  “Beardsley, take my hand,” I say.

  He reaches across and I grab hold of his old bones. Another spray of serum comes towards us. If it touches us, we could be paralysed and under the Nix’s control. Now is the moment where I need to take the control back. I think of Beardsley and his spiders. I think of the castle and its layout.

  The serum is a whisper from my arm and I turn my head a fraction to see the teeth of the Nix in close proximity.

  “Hold on,” I whisper half to myself.

  The venom, the Nix, and the darkness of the tunnel fade away, and we end up running straight into a hung
tapestry in one of the palace hallways. Beardsley collapses to his knees, wheezing. I look around me. I’ve transported us to a separate part of the castle, away from the Nix.

  “I’m sorry, old man,” I say. “It was the best I could do.”

  “You’re the craft-born,” he replies. “I should have known.”

  “Yes,” I say. “But it doesn’t matter. You probably won’t remember when you wake up anyway.”

  “What was that creature? Was it another one of my creations?”

  “No, it was after me,” I reply. “It is trying to control me so that I will give it immortality. The king isn’t the only one searching for the Ember Stone.”

  Beardsley sucks in another deep breath. “I never said this to the king because he would probably have me executed, but I don’t actually believe that the craft can be inserted into a regular, man-made diamond. I’ve managed to harness many contraptions throughout the palace based on craft magic, but this is something different. This is beyond any magic in the realm today, even yours. The Ember Stone was made by the Ancients. By one of the most powerful Ancients, actually. It possesses the purest magic that has ever existed. But the diamond has long been lost.”

  “According to the Borgans an old king had it made. It was lost somewhere.” I shake my head. “I had always thought that it was just a story.”

  “Oh, it’s real.” Beardsley lets out a heavy sigh. “Before the king asked me to create false diamonds, he searched far and wide for it. He had men in the Haedalands mines, and even in the Southern Archipelagos. He sent a team towards the mountains in the North, too. But he never found a lead. Only dead ends. That was when he had the idea to create a new one from craft magic, and forced me into helping him. I never wanted that terrible man to rule the realm into the ground as an immortal, but I am a fearful man who is weak. I worked for him regardless. But Mae, there is something you should know.”

  “Tell me. Quickly,” I say.

  “When I realised making diamonds would never amount to anything, I began to do my own research. I found texts written by the Ancients. They were in the Aelfen language, but I managed to translate some. I couldn’t translate it all, but I managed at least some. There is reason to believe that the Ember Stone is hidden in a temple beneath the Anadi sands.”