Lord of Monsters

by John Claude Bemis

  Pinocchio stared at her, hardly believing what she was saying. She wanted him to summon the Roc…here?

  The flash in her eyes answered him.

  “Well, you’re the prester too,” Pinocchio said. “You’ve got to help me.” He reached out and took her hand.

  “What do we do?” Lazuli said quietly.

  “Close your eyes,” Pinocchio said. “We’ll summon it together.”

  Lazuli nodded, and they closed their eyes.

  Pinocchio spoke first, barely above a whisper. “Roc, primordial elemental of air, guardian of Abaton, your presters need you.” When he repeated the command, Lazuli joined him. They said it together over and over, a little louder each time. And as they did, Pinocchio mustered every bit of tingling magic with the hope it would bring forth the primordial creature. He knew Lazuli must be doing the same.

  “This is a farce,” Sapphira said, giving a thin laugh. “The powers that belonged to His Great Lordship are gone. The Ancientmost Pearl is empty of its powers. So, my high nobles, people of Abaton, you must choose who you will have rule. Will you let these children with their games and foolishness deceive you? Or will you choose a ruler who can offer Abaton peace and security as we’ve always—”

  Lady Sapphira’s words were drowned by gasps and then cries rising all around. A wild wind broke across the palace steps.

  Lazuli squeezed Pinocchio’s hand and said, “Look!”

  Heart racing, Pinocchio let his eyes flutter open.

  Filling the sky behind the palace was the great looming wall of the Mist. The mass swirled and started to change. A spire elongated from the front. The sides flattened out into wide, feathery strands of cloud. A shape was forming.

  Lord Smoldrin and Raya Piscus came down the steps to get a better look. All heads were turned to the sight.

  The Mist transformed. The spire at the front became what was unmistakably an enormous raptor’s head and beak, although composed of churning, steely-colored storm clouds. The sides drew up into wings so large the sunlight dimmed. A cry erupted, like no sound Pinocchio had ever heard: a piercing screech that crackled with lightning and sent rumbles across the landscape like a peal of thunder that might never end. It shook the steps beneath their feet.

  Dr. Nundrum began flapping his feathered hands. “That is no trick! They’ve summoned the Roc!”

  Pinocchio saw Lady Sapphira glower at the owl before her gaze returned to the sky.

  The sheer size of the Roc—or maybe it was that the creature was composed entirely of mist—made its movements appear like time had been slowed. But as it flapped, each protracted beat sending out feathery wisps, the Roc grew alarmingly larger and larger.

  Pinocchio was aware that a hush had fallen over the scene. Monsters and archers and palace servants alike were all petrified by the eerie sight. Even Wini trembled, huddling behind him.

  Lazuli cried, “My good people of Abaton, we were deceived by my aunt. And our land was nearly torn apart by her plot. Sky Hunters of the Mist Cities, if you lay down your arms and promise to defend our land—even against your own ladyship—then your betrayal will be forgiven.”

  Rion held his weapon hesitantly, but the others began casting down their bows and spilling quivers of arrows to the ground.

  Khora landed on the steps. Pinocchio thought, for a moment, that she was making another attempt on Sapphira’s life, but the manticore sank to her stomach, flattening her body and her great batlike wings. She fixed her gaze at his feet. “You, Prester Pinocchio, were cast into the prison with us. Yet you did not hate us.”

  From the corner of his eye, Pinocchio spied Azi circling in the sky, his barbed head directed at the presters as he listened.

  “I cannot speak for the others, but I would obey and serve such a prester,” Khora continued. “And Prester Lazuli, who is also brave and powerful and wishes only to protect our people. My presters, you offered me my freedom if I would pledge loyalty to the protection of Abaton. It wars against my very nature as a monster, but I can change. Abaton has changed since the days when Prester John ruled. If I…could but beg that you…” She lifted her gaze a fraction. “But no, I realize I have lost my chance….”

  “You are right,” Lazuli answered.

  Khora gave a disappointed nod.

  “You are right that Abaton has changed,” Lazuli said. “Abaton cannot remain the kingdom it was under my father. I thought it had to be. I listened to those who said our people enslaved in the Venetian Empire did not deserve to rejoin us in Abaton, when I should have done what I knew was right, even if it meant upsetting the order of our land.”

  Pinocchio smiled at her, and she gave him a nod.

  “It is time for a new dawn for Abaton,” Lazuli said. “Time for the mistakes of the past to be forgiven. Khora, if you and any of the other prisoners are willing to help us lead Abaton into a new age, then we will forgive your past crimes.”

  Khora looked up with a terrifying but grateful smile. “I will, Your Majesties!”

  Azi landed beside her and rasped, “I will as well.”

  More monsters flew down, landing in the gardens and courtyards among the anxious bystanders, until all the remaining monsters had descended, bowing and pledging to defend Abaton.

  “Good,” Pinocchio said. Then, looking at Sapphira, he said, “Now is the time to ask for forgiveness.”

  Dr. Nundrum pushed his way through the monsters in a flurry and threw himself to the steps. “She made me help her, Your Majesties! I know I was cowardly, but she threatened to throw me into the Mist with those monsters. Please believe that I regret my part in her terrible scheme. I know how wrong I was. I repent—I truly do! I beg your forgiveness!”

  Pinocchio blinked down at the owl, somewhat startled. “Then you are forgiven, Dr. Nundrum.”

  Sapphira looked livid. “Accepting monsters back into our land. Allowing slaves who have never lived among our people to defile our kingdom. The Noble Houses will never accept this, and they will never accept children as their presters!”

  “I will!” Lord Smoldrin bellowed.

  “And I,” bubbled Raya Piscus.

  Pinocchio glanced toward the Lionslayer still hovering out over the lagoon. He felt certain Chief Muckamire would add his small but enthusiastic cry of agreement if he were here.

  “The sylphs will not,” Lady Sapphira said, edging closer to Rion and Quila. “My loyal captain, the greatest of my archers, I have fulfilled my promise to elevate you in our ranks. It’s not too late for the Mist Cities to be ours.”

  Lazuli held out a hand in warning. “Rion, whatever glory you thought there was in following my aunt, surely you see you were wrong. You can be forgiven…if you choose.”

  The look of self-assurance that was so often on Rion’s face was gone. Raw panic replaced it. He looked from Sapphira’s stern face to Lazuli’s pleading one. Pinocchio noticed a twitch of something almost like regret flicker in Rion’s eyes as he looked at Lazuli.

  But then Rion cast a powerful gust, pushing back Pinocchio and the others. With a swift leap, he was on Quila. “Fly!” he snarled. “Get us away from here!”

  Sapphira reached for him, but already the griffin was taking off without her.

  They were just rising into the air when Lazuli raised her hands. A blast of wind toppled the griffin and sent Rion tumbling into a group of monsters.

  “Hold him,” Lazuli called.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, the toad monstrosity opened his enormous maw and slurped Rion down in a single gulp.

  Lazuli flinched in horror. “That’s not what I meant!”

  But Pinocchio said with a smirk, “It should be all right. He was swallowed whole. We’ll let him out later.”

  The toad gave a nod of his gruesome bulbous head. Muffled shrieks sounded from inside him.

  Lady Sapphira still clutched the Pearl tightly. The magic that had once illuminated the orb had long faded. And it seemed too that Sapphira’s color was draining until she had become ashen. She
had wanted the Ancientmost Pearl so badly that she had been willing to endanger her own people, her own niece even. Pinocchio couldn’t help but wonder what had led her down that terrible path.

  “Please, Aunt Sapphira,” Lazuli said gently. A note of sadness cracked in her voice. She stepped closer to her aunt. Lazuli seemed about to draw her expression into that regal mask. But then Pinocchio saw Lazuli’s eyes well and she let her tears spill onto her cheeks. “It doesn’t have to be this way. I don’t want it to be this way.”

  Sapphira tore her gaze from the Pearl. She looked defiantly around at all the eyes on her. “I will have no part in watching Abaton come to such ruin.”

  Pinocchio sighed and glanced over at Lazuli.

  Lazuli wiped at her cheeks. She drew her face into an expression that was both confident and heartbroken, not a regal mask but as true a look as Pinocchio had seen Lazuli show before her people.

  “Then you won’t have to watch anymore, Aunt,” Lazuli said. “Until the day when you repent for your crimes, you will no longer be free to endanger the people of Abaton.”

  Those words, Pinocchio remembered, were what Lazuli’s father had said to Diamancer and his rebels.

  Lazuli raised her hands to the Roc. “She belongs with you. Guard her well.”

  With an earthshaking rumble of thunder, the Roc gathered in an enormous churning storm cloud. It descended on the Moonlit Court, its titanic talons reaching out. Sapphira screamed, dropping the Pearl and throwing up her hands to shield herself.

  Lazuli cast the last of the Sands of Sleep on her aunt as darkness enveloped the palace.

  A moment later, the skies cleared. The Roc flapped into the distance, beyond the jungles, back to the Mist Cities. A new prisoner had joined Diamancer and his sleeping followers.

  Pinocchio came racing down the long, spiraling staircase of the Moonlit Court. He was late. Everyone was already waiting on him in the foyer. Pinocchio was dripping with sweat.

  His father handed him a handkerchief when he came to a stop.

  “Sorry,” Pinocchio said, taking it and mopping his forehead. “This armor took longer than we thought to get on.”

  He put a hand to the shining silver breastplate, which was doing nothing to help keep him cool in the sweltering tropical heat.

  “I told you, darling, you didn’t need to wear it,” Mezmer said. “You’re going to show up your knights!”

  Lazuli hadn’t opted for the heavy plates of armor, but she wore a tunic of glittering mail that was woven into her blue gown. They both had swords at their belts. If Abaton was ushering in a new age, Pinocchio and Lazuli had decided they might dress the part of their kingdom’s protectors.

  Mezmer’s snout curled into an approving smile as she surveyed her presters. “But I have to admit, you both look splendid.”

  “Where is Sop?” Maestro chirped from Geppetto’s shoulder. “The banquet will start any moment.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me if we go without him,” Mezmer said, rolling her eyes.

  The cat’s boots clunked on the marble as he strolled into the gallery. He was carrying a plate heaped with spiceberry cake, which he was shoveling in his mouth with a paw.

  “We’ve been waiting here and you’re raiding the kitchens, you incorrigible cat!” Maestro chirped at him.

  “And?” Sop said through a mouthful. He didn’t look a bit guilty. “Did anyone want a bite?”

  “No, thanks,” Lazuli said.

  Pinocchio’s stomach gave a growl. Sop raised a brow at him. Pinocchio eyed the ruins of his favorite dessert before shaking his head. “I think I’ll wait.”

  The aleya sounded a chime and bumped his hand. Pinocchio held it out and she deposited a ripe cluster of spiceberries in his palm.

  “Thanks!” He chuckled, popping them in his mouth.

  Sop licked the frosting from his whiskers. “So what are we waiting for—who’s ready to eat? I’m starving.”

  “If you’ll lead us, Dr. Nundrum,” Lazuli said.

  The owl made a rapid bow, fumbling to get his glasses back on his beak. “Yes, Your Majesties. Please follow me.”

  Dr. Nundrum had been ready to resign his post overseeing the daily affairs of the Moonlit Court. There had been quite a bit of discussion about what to do with him. Sop suggested dropping him into the Upended Forest with the arachnobats. But in the end, the owl was so repentant they decided to give him a chance to earn their trust again. Until then, he would have to carry a Riggle with him, just in case.

  Maestro fluttered ahead to prepare his orchestra. A last-minute trickle of attendants and servants was hurrying out the door to the gardens when Pinocchio spied someone slinking among them.

  “Cinnabar!” he called.

  The djinni approached warily. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  Cinnabar kept his eyes downturned and looked anxious to go. “I…I was going to check over the final repairs to the ship—”

  “You’re not going to the banquet?” Sop asked.

  Pinocchio grabbed Cinnabar by the elbow. “Join us at our table.”

  The djinni gave a start of surprise, glancing from Pinocchio to the others.

  “B-but, Your Majesty, I…I’m no noble elemental,” he stammered.

  “It’s not that kind of banquet, Cinnabar,” Pinocchio said. “Those days are behind us.”

  “Besides, you’re a hero,” Lazuli said. “And Abaton won’t forget it.”

  The djinni’s face screwed up severely, but it at last settled into a smile. A real smile. The first one Pinocchio thought he’d ever seen on Cinnabar’s face.

  He bowed. “Thank you, my presters.”

  The tall doors swung open, and the glow from the setting sun flooded their eyes. As they emerged at the top of the steps, they were met by a thunderous noise. It was cheering like Pinocchio could never have imagined. Deafening cheering. Maestro’s orchestra was drowned out completely, but the little cricket continued conducting his musicians with fervent flourishes of his antennae.

  A sea of tables filled the lawns and garden grounds. Around them, applauding Abatonians stood by their chairs. Pinocchio couldn’t believe how many were here. The cooks really had been busy!

  Spread out at the various tables were servants and nobles, elementals and chimera, all mixed together with sundry creatures and even the formerly imprisoned monsters. Lord Smoldrin stood beside Kataton. Tiny Chief Muckamire stood by Goliath and many of the mushroom people from the Upended Forest—all at a smaller table. Raya Piscus and her undines clapped inside their water-filled shrouds and gave slightly wary looks to the ghouls and blazing fire spirits nearest to them.

  The grounds were, if anything, better than before. Pinocchio and Lazuli had put the monsters to work cleaning up the destruction and repairing the damage to the palace. With a little magic—and some trial and error—the presters were continuing to discover all that they were capable of doing.

  Pinocchio caught Khora’s eye at her table with several four-legged Abatonians, including the three kirin sisters. The manticore flashed him a smile and bowed with the rest of the multitude. Azi gave a celebratory croak.

  Lazuli looked over at Pinocchio. He shook his head in disbelief. “Make them stop,” he whispered with a smile.

  The feast went on until long after the stars came out and the moon danced its way across the night sky. Sitting beside Lazuli at their table, Pinocchio kept looking around at the joyous scene. Laughing voices and faint toasts of “Long lives for the presters!” erupted every few moments.

  Pinocchio caught Lazuli staring off across the grounds. Following her gaze, he spotted Rion at a table with several sylphs.

  Rion had managed to wash most of the foul stains out of his snow-white suit after being released from the toad. But try as he might, his hair now looked more a dingy green than blue. He seemed a little shaky still, not at all his former overconfident self. It probably didn’t help that the toad, who was seated at the next
table over, kept belching loudly and saying, “Yum, still tastes like sylph!”

  Pinocchio made a small frown. “I can’t believe I ever thought he was so great.”

  “You want to see the best in others,” Lazuli said.

  “But that’s not always good, I suppose,” he said.

  “I don’t think that’s true.” She flashed him a smile. “You can’t help being who you are.”

  Pinocchio returned her smile.

  Chief Muckamire popped up beside them, a merry twinkle in his eyes. “I wanted to let you know, Your Majesties, that the fleet is ready.”

  “Fleet?” Lazuli asked.

  “Yes, my gnomes have completed a dozen ships like the Lionslayer, ready for your departure to rescue our people in the Venetian Empire.”

  Pinocchio’s hand went instinctively to his wrist, but then he remembered that Wiq’s bracelet was gone. Several tables over, Azi made a playful croak at the aleya circling around his table.

  Mezmer leaned over, planting her furry orange paws on the table. “Your Majesties, darlings. I don’t mean to rain on your banquet, but while we have ships to fly to Venice, we still don’t yet have an army.”

  “You’ve got your knights,” Pinocchio said.

  Mezmer glanced toward Kataton and Goliath, from the aleya to the kirins. “I couldn’t ask for knights more glorious, it’s true. But that’s only eight, including me and Sop.”

  “The Sky Hunters are eager to show their loyalty,” Lazuli said. “They’ve pledged their bows. Even Rion.”

  Mezmer gave an appreciative if not exactly enthusiastic nod. “Well, I suppose that adds a few dozen more; still, it’s hardly a fighting force capable of handling Venice’s army. I mean, we’ll be facing legions of airmen, not to mention Flying Lions and all the alchemical might of the Fortezza Ducale!”

  “You’re right,” Pinocchio said. “Good thing you already have new recruits.”

  “Recruits?” Mezmer flicked her tall ears, perplexed. “What other recruits?”

  “Khora is quite excited that her crew will have an opportunity to serve Abaton.”