by Tara Omar
Imaan rose from her chair.
“Adam’s shield. You heard Raphael; the seal can only bite one. David may be our only chance at retrieving the shield. If he is successful in recovering such a precious artefact, I am sure Aeroth will happily support you granting him dispensation to live in the forest like Raphael. It will also give David a chance to redeem himself if he did do anything improper. If he does not bring back the shield, the Nephilim will surely take care of him.”
Saladin shook his head.
“I cannot allow that. We are at peace with the Nephilim. I will not risk angering the mers to save a man from his own foolishness.”
“I am not convinced that the mers will not unleash some horror irrespective of whether we take the shield or not. The mers have been forbidden on land since the time of Adam, and that did not stop them from exploiting a loophole. If they find another in the treaty and attack, we may not again be so lucky. If we have the shield we will at least be better prepared.”
Imaan looked David up and down.
“Moreover, you do not know who sent this man into the river. What if another judge is attempting to get to the shield first? Perhaps it is the will of Avinoam. You saved him, and now he is in your debt. Perhaps Avi wants you to have the shield.”
“I don’t know. If another leader sent him I do not see why they would leave him for the willow,” said Saladin.
“Who are the judges?” asked David.
“Each of the human tribes has a leader called a judge,” said Raphael.
Imaan’s eyes widened.
“Or maybe the Le—”
“Don’t. Say it,” said Saladin.
“Very well,” said Imaan, looking to the floor. She leaned toward Saladin’s ear.
“May I have a word alone, then?”
Saladin nodded. She led him through one of the doors into a tiny broom closet. She shut the door and flicked on a light bulb.
“There is also the prophecy,” said Imaan.
“What prophecy?” asked Saladin, batting away a hanging feather duster that dangled near his face.
Imaan handed him the piece of paper.
Kiss that bind will seal man’s fate.
“I am not familiar,” said Saladin, looking at the scribbled words. The size of the closet forced Imaan to stand very near him. She felt her heart beating faster as she spoke.
“Yesterday in class, I asked one of my maidens to recount the legend of Adam,” said Imaan. “The maiden became very unusual, and gave a telling unlike any I had heard before. It was later discovered that this message was hidden in her telling. This and other signs lead me to believe this David fulfils a prophecy as told by my maiden. He is bound by a kiss given by a seal. Perhaps Avinoam knows something is going to happen and is sending us help. It would be wise to heed the warnings.”
“So now you ask me to believe not only the legend, but also hidden messages within the legend?” asked Saladin, letting his arm drop to his thigh.
“I know you do not believe my theories, King, but if there is a chance that the humans are in danger, and if you knew you had the chance to do something about it, would you want the guilt I bear now, as with the war? This plan could only help Aeroth; the shield does not belong to the Nephilim and should be with us. We are simply reclaiming what is ours.”
“Even if I were to indulge you, it would not be easy smuggling him across Aeroth. If he is caught it could have disastrous consequences for both of us, for the whole of Aeroth, even,” said Saladin.
“Liza gave the telling,” said Imaan.
“Liza?” asked Saladin, looking up. His shoulders dropped as he breathed her name.
“Yes,” said Imaan.
Saladin passed Imaan and opened the door.
“You, merman, or whatever you are,” said Saladin, leaning on Sargon as he hobbled toward them. “I saved your life and I will be very disappointed if you forget it. You are in my debt now. Are you willing to vow to me?”
“Pardon?” asked David.
“Saladin, he is still partly human. There is no need to treat him with the same disrespect you show me—not yet, anyway,” said Raphael.
Saladin ignored him.
“Vow to get the shield,” said Saladin. “I will not assist you in entering Larimar if there is a possibility this will not be good for Aeroth. I will not have it on my head that I spared a dangerous suspect if you turn and betray the humans.”
Saladin stared him down. David paused.
“Raphael, I trust you’d like to be rid of our presence for a while? We have been quite rude to you,” said Imaan. Raphael nodded and disappeared down the stairs.
“Well, David, what do you say? Will you reclaim the shield that rightfully belongs to us?” asked Imaan. “I can assure you, if you are successful you will be repaying the King with many more lives than merely your own, as we gravely need its protection.”
“You saved my life?” asked David.
“I did.”
“And you would consider this sufficient repayment for my debt?”
“I would,” said the King.
“And this shield, which it seems only I can retrieve, will somehow save the humans from destruction?” asked David.
“It would certainly help,” said Imaan.
“Then I will vow to it,” said David.
“A vow cannot be broken. Avinoam will hold you to your word,” said Saladin.
“I know the term,” said David. He stared at the King with the same cold and stern gaze he was receiving. Saladin looked toward Imaan.
“Excellent,” said Imaan. “I shall bear witness, though you must both also vow to tell no one of this venture, most especially not Gabe.”
“Imaan, is it really necessary to bring your suspicions into this? This is a very grave matter,” said Saladin.
“Indulge me, or I shall not witness.”
Saladin sighed.
“Very well,” he said.
He positioned himself against the golden rail and handed Sargon to Imaan. Then he grabbed David’s left arm by the elbow. David pulled back.
“Grab his arm, David,” said Imaan.
David grabbed Saladin’s arm also by the elbow so that their two arms were locked. Imaan laid Sargon on top of their clasped arms, holding onto its handle. Sargon’s metal fell into a light-filled rope and twisted itself around their arms, binding them together. It began to pulse with bluish-gray light.
“Right, then. The avowal of David Michelson to Saladin, King of Aeroth, and the aforementioned to Lady Imaan, as witnessed by Avinoam through Lady Imaan, head of the Elite tribe and the High Priest of Aeroth. David hereby vows to reclaim Adam’s shield and present it thus to the King within due course of his acquiring it. Both David and Saladin also vow to tell no one of this venture. If you both agree, we shall proceed.”
David and Saladin nodded.
“Then for thus does Avinoam, the Silent One, through me, Lady Imaan, with Sargon, stand witness. May you be held to your word.”
Imaan set her right hand on top of their bound arms. Sargon flashed a blinding light which filled the room. David felt the energy of his promise vibrate through his nerves like an electrical current; just as he thought he would collapse Sargon released them. He stepped back, breathing heavily. Saladin was doing the same.
“Well, that’s settled then,” said Imaan, handing Sargon back to the King. “Saladin and I will return to the City later this afternoon, where I will make preparations for David’s departure to Larimar. David, you will stay with Raphael so you may learn the ways of the mers. We will collect you in three weeks’ time. Understood?”
“Yes,” said David.
“Good,” said Imaan. “Now I believe Raphael has prepared a lovely breakfast for us in the dining room; it is best not to keep him waiting.”
Imaan grabbed D
avid and Saladin by the elbows and nudged them toward the stairs. She followed them for several steps but stopped. A nervous tingling spread through the plates of her spine. Someone was behind her.
“Did he consent?”
Imaan spun around.
“Did David accept your plan?” asked Raphael.
“Of course,” said Imaan, moving back into the gold room. “David is not unreasonable. We all agreed retrieving the shield would be the cleanest way out of this predicament, and it may save many human lives in the process. Our coming together can only be the work of Avinoam.”
“Do you think he will do it?”
“He vowed it,” said Imaan.
Raphael paused.
“You didn’t tell him, did you?”
“All things in time,” said Imaan.
Raphael shook his head.
“The boy deserves to know, Imaan. You can see from his mannerisms he has a soft heart; murder is not in his nature. You involve him in things he would not choose freely.”
“Not since the days of Adam have necessity and desire been aligned; since then we all must do things we would rather not.”
“I find your sureness of this madness exceedingly dangerous.”
“Aeroth is dangerous, Raphael, and it is getting worse by the day. I can see the darkness and the doubt in the people spreading like an infection. Now that the pieces are in place we must act.”
“If darkness fills your eyes, perhaps you are going blind,” said Raphael.
“Not nearly as blind as a lovesick mer with pathetic motives,” said Imaan, starting down the stairs.
“I’m not so sure about that,” said Raphael.
“Excuse me?”
“When it comes to love I am not the only one to be pitied, am I?” asked Raphael.
Imaan scowled.
“Train the boy as requested. As for the rest, I suggest you take your own advice and leave it alone.”
“Very well, Lady,” said Raphael, following her toward the dining room, “as you insist.”
C H A P T E R 1 4
An S-3 mechanical pteroduck flapped its colourful, bat-like wings across itself, pulling upright as it aligned for a precarious landing. The pilot tensed as she eased on the levers, listening to the ice covering the aircraft’s skin pop and crack as it tucked its oversized head into its neck and lowered onto the narrow landing bay. Navigating the sky’s curvature and extreme cold required a certain amount of skill, but the pilot had weightier worries than successfully clearing the landing past the snow-covered fence. The glass phial she carried felt like a heavy stone within her pocket, it poked against her thigh as a constant reminder of guilt.
You should not be here, she thought, looking out the pteroduck’s bulging glass belly toward a snow-covered lodge. Despite her misgivings it was too late to change her mind now; she adjusted her veil and breathed deeply as the pteroduck folded its wings and settled into place. An ornately-carved sign greeted her from across the parking lot, welcoming her to Cherry Blossom Lodge and Labyrinth, a sauna at the edge of the sky.
Despite its hair-raising landing strip, Cherry Lodge was one of the loveliest thermal retreats in the whole of Aeroth. Built into the rocky edge of the sky several kilometres from the ground, the ethereal woodland lodge was nestled in fluffy mounds of snow and surrounded by cherry blossom trees frozen at the peak of full bloom. Their pale pink lacework crept over each of the glass-roofed buildings, sparkling with ice as though dusted with sugar. Under normal circumstances a visit to the Lodge would be like a pleasant dream; at present it was an awkward nightmare.
“Keep it together, Liza, you are just here to deliver,” she coaxed, pulling her veil tighter around her face. “Deliver and get out.” She closed the hatch at the back of the pteroduck and stepped into the frigid air, shivering as a windy gust flung flecks of scented ice onto her face. The cold pricked her cheeks as she walked down the lane to the main sauna room, approaching its twisted door with a strained look of resolve. She closed her eyes and pressed a button on the side; it sent a clear, round ding echoing through the chilly air. Liza shivered.
“Is the King here?” she asked.
“He is meditating. He cannot be disturbed,” said the man at the threshold. He moved to close the door, but Liza caught it with her arm. He glared at her.
“Please, I have a message from Lady Imaan,” said Liza. “It’s urgent.”
The lines on his face creased severely as he scowled, but Liza did not flinch.
“Wait here,” he said.
After a long moment the door swung open. Saladin was leaning on Sargon and holding onto the door, his skin still glistening from the steam inside. He grinned at her. Liza pursed her lips.
“Why so cold, Liza? Are we not friends?” asked Saladin.
“I have an urgent message from Lady Imaan. She had to leave suddenly and requested this be delivered to you personally,” said Liza, holding the phial out to him. A cloud of indigo ink floated in the centre of the glass bottle, surrounded by water. Saladin glanced at it.
“So Aquila has told me,” said Saladin. Liza shook it impatiently, signalling he should take it, but Saladin did not move.
“To where did the Lady leave?” he asked.
“She did not say.”
“And she could not use the taps?”
“I assume she feared it might be intercepted. I believe it is private.”
Saladin nodded and left her at the door. Liza huffed.
“Your Highness,” called Liza, starting after him. “Your Highness, you must take the message. Lady said it’s important.”
She paused. As she entered the sauna, the heat soaked into her skin as though she had just been hit with a bucket of water. Her veil clung to her cheeks as the humid air washed over her, heavy with the scents of exotic spices. A bright flame danced in a shallow bowl at the centre of a hazy pool, surrounded by a maze of cedar and cinnamon walkways under which hundreds of glowing firestones rested, sending fragrant steam into the air every time water from the pool trickled over them. Saladin turned.
“Is something the matter?” asked Saladin.
“No, nothing. I was just wondering if such an environment agrees with the asceticism necessary for meditation.”
“Why, is it too lovely for you?” asked Saladin.
“How can you fast and meditate when this place likens itself to the centre of a baking cinnamon roll?”
“And iced with frosty cherry blossoms?” asked Saladin, looking to the glass roof. “I could not think of a more pleasurable place to meditate, save one.” He glanced fleetingly at her skirt.
Saladin approached a long counter near the wall, which was spread with an abundance of fruit stacked in bowls and on towers. Among the selection, Liza could see figs and oranges, red grapes and pomegranates, mangos, pineapple rings, guavas and melons. Saladin grabbed a pomegranate from a silver bowl and halved it with a nearby knife; it squirted a puddle of scarlet juice onto the counter.
“Ah, I see. You are not fasting then,” said Liza.
Saladin smiled.
“One day you may yet discover, Liza, that it is through meditating on the beauty of the universe that one sees the beauty of the Creator, not through shunning it,” said the King. He picked up the pomegranate half and stood behind her, holding the bleeding fruit in front of her as he whispered into her ear.
“Look at it, Liza—grown in the dry and desolate places of Aeroth, just waiting to quench the thirst of the weary traveller. See how the seeds shine like a thousand jewels under the crown, ready to burst in your mouth with sweetness like a symphony onto silence. Does that not tell you something about Avi, about love?”
He turned his lips toward her ear.
“You would be very hard-hearted to reject such a gift.”
“And as you enjoy the life from her seeds, the bush cr
ies for the children she bore which will never be. Love is sacrifice,” said Liza, pulling away.
“Sacrifice? Liza, a pomegranate bush produces thousands upon thousands of seeds, more than what could ever become plants. It cannot possibly miss the few we eat in its extravagance. Don’t you think that’s more like sharing wealth?”
“I do not see you sharing the royal funds with every person who claims their pockets are thirsty,” said Liza.
Saladin sighed.
“I will not argue further in this heat, though I still think it preferable to stay hydrated, and I thank Avinoam for providing the means with which to do so.”
He turned back to the counter of fruit.
“I am also grateful that Avinoam has flown the Lady’s loveliest parrot to me as a reminder of her ideas.”
Liza pulled the damp veil closer to her face, watching as Saladin popped the bubble-like seeds from the pith and dropped them into a decorative silver bowl. Saladin groaned.
“Oh for goodness sake, Liza, it’s sweltering in here. Take off that veil.”
Liza shook her head.
“Then cool down the sauna, please, Aquila. It appears our lady would prefer to waste all this precious heat in favour of arrogant modesty.”
“That will not be necessary,” said Liza.
“Open the windows, Aquila,” said Saladin.
Aquila moved around the walls of the sauna, pushing buttons which cracked open the glass panels on the roof. He pressed another button near the door; the flame in the centre of the room died away, transforming into a glossy sphere of ice.
“And the centre window,” said Saladin, grabbing another pomegranate from the bowl. He began to slice and deseed it as the first.
“Sir?” asked Aquila, looking to him.
“As I have spoken,” said Saladin.
Aquila nodded, pressing another button near the door. The window at the centre of the roof opened, knocking against several of the frozen blooms and shattering them. The shards of flowers floated down into the sauna, infusing the room with a cherry perfume. Saladin turned.
“See,” said Saladin, pointing with his knife. “For all your care of plants, you have now damaged the foliage.”