The Caste Marked

by Mariah Esterly

  As Reks saw it, there were a lot of ‘ifs’ in that plan and felt that there would be more benefit in having more fighters against the death muxins. But Sylvan had been sure that it was the best course of action. And so, he’d let her go.

  Though ‘let’ wasn’t really the correct word. No one ‘let’ Sylvan do anything. She just did it.

  Lord Arseno’s camp sat on the beach behind them. Reks was sure that he would be furious that one of his three ships had been taken under the cover of night, but perhaps this would inspire him to action, rather than words. Reks hoped so. He would feel better knowing they had more support.

  Sailing to the Isle of Eyes was taking longer than he had anticipated. His fingers itched to hold a dagger, to thrust it into the body of a death muxin. He had always been terrible at patience. He would rather be doing something than wait.

  That was part of the reason why he’d become Thief Lord so young, he’d been too impatient to pay his rightful dues and just went straight for the top job in the guild.

  Except with Serra. She made him want to be patient, to not rush things. To take his time and really think about his future. His fingers tightened on the railing of the deck. He had to get her back.

  Snow and wind whipped at his face and pulled at the hem of his long coat. Through the falling white flakes, an island appeared on the horizon. “Land ho!” Reks called.

  Chapter 38

  SYLVAN

  Sylvan was sure she’d never been so cold in her life. She flew cradled in Mikhail’s arms above the low hanging storm clouds. It was beautiful up there, with the sun glinting off the tops of the clouds coloring them in pinks, purples and blues. But, Gods, it was cold! And the air was thin... Sylvan felt as though she couldn’t fill her lungs properly.

  Mikhail seemed unaffected by the chill, and kept flying with sure steady strokes toward the village where they suspected that Valeria slept. Sylvan hoped wholeheartedly that she was correct in this. If she was wrong Reks, Vaughn and Rian would be sailing into battle without the aid of her magic. She hadn’t even been able to give them a protection spell.

  She was sure she would need every last ounce of magic in her to break through Valaine’s spells.

  “Time to go down!” Mikhail said to her over the wind that rushed by them. Sylvan nodded and the sylph began his descent through the clouds. Once they broke the cloud cover the weather took a turn for the worse. Snow slapped at their faces and strong winds pulled at Mikhail’s wings, but the sylph continued, his face set.

  Mikhail at least, understood the importance of their situation, even if Lord Arseno had not.

  Mikhail pulled up and landed gently on the ground, then set Sylvan down. Once on land the snow was actually pretty, falling in large soft flakes to cover the world in a blanket of white. Sylvan looked around, they’d landed in a small clearing in the middle of a hilly and heavily forested area.

  Sylvan pulled out her map and looked at it. Mikhail had set down in almost the exact area they needed to be in, the very center of what Rian had begun to call the “safety zone.” Thistle and a good portion of her brood had beat them there, with their ability to simply appear and disappear at will.

  “It should be here somewhere.” She tucked the map into her leather vest. “Everyone spread out. We’ll find it.”

  After fifteen minutes, she heard Mikhail shout, “I can’t bloody see anything! Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

  Sylvan wasn’t sure. That was the problem. Valaine could have hidden Valeria anywhere in the world. It had just been a stupid hunch that she would keep her close to the village where they’d grown up, an even stupider hunch that they would be able to find it. Valaine had been alive for hundreds of years she’d had the time to refine her magic on the cave. But Sylvan didn’t say this. Instead she said, “Don’t look for a cave. Look for a distortion, a shimmer of magic. I’m sure she put an illusion charm on it.”

  They continued looking, focusing on any areas where the ground seemed rockier. After a half hour, Sylvan was ready to give up. She sat on a rock and pulled out the map. “It should be here!”

  Thistle announced herself with a tinkling sound that said, “hello!”

  “Thistle!” Sylvan thrust the map back into its place. “Have you found something?”

  The pixie nodded. “Follow me!”

  Sylvan stood and said, “Mikhail! We’ve found something.”

  He walked into view, swatting at the air in front of him. “Is that what this bug is trying to tell me?”

  “I’m no bug!” Sylvan heard Dandelion say, indignantly.

  Thistle lead them to a place not ten feet from where Sylvan was about to give up. Two large trees grew up out of the stony earth, roots entangled on top of rocks, questing for crevices to creep into. There was no hint of a glimmer. Nothing to tell that there was a cave here. Sylvan would have never found it. But as Thistle flew toward the trees and bounced against them, they wavered slightly.

  Sylvan touched one of the trees. It felt wrong to her skin. She had grown up talking to the woods interacting with them, knowing how they felt, and this one felt different to her, even after her separation from the Sidonia Wood. “This is it. Good work, Thistle.”

  She stepped back from the spot to consider. “Now, how can I break through? Thistle, would you touch the trees again?” Thistle did as she was asked. The trees reacted to the magic in Thistle and wavered. “Again? And again?”

  “What are you looking for?” Mikhail asked quietly.

  “A seam. Every protection spell has a seam. It has to be here.” Thistle continued flying to the trees and touching them, until Sylvan finally shouted. “There! I see it.” She didn’t move her eyes from the spot as she walked forward forcing a good portion of her magic into her hands, which began to glow with a pale green light. She reached up to the spot and placed her hands on the trunk of the larger tree. She took a deep breath and forced her hands into the seam, her fingers appearing to sink into the tree itself. Taking another deep breath, she pulled back, and the protection spell fractured slightly.

  Sylvan moved her hands down the seam and pulled again. She continued in that vein for what seemed like hours. Her hands and arms ached from the effort and a fine sheen of sweat covered her brow by the time she reached the bottom of the seam.

  The illusion charm disintegrated revealing the mouth of a cave tall enough for Sylvan to walk through, though Mikhail would have to duck. The sylph began to clap, “Well, done Sylvan, well done.”

  Sylvan smiled and gave a little curtsy, then turned back to the cave. “But that was the easy part. Now we have to wake up Valeria.” She stepped into the darkness.

  Chapter 39

  SERRA

  Serra had made her decision by the time Valaine came back. She meant what she said when she told Eva that she didn’t want to sacrifice anyone to the witch and that remained true.

  Serra was waiting by the entrance to the cavern when Valaine walked in. The witch smiled when she saw her. “You’ve made your decision then?”

  Serra nodded her stomach in knots. She was acutely aware of the other children in the cave looking at her, anxious to hear her choice. Eva and Luc stood at the front of the group. Eva clutched the younger boy’s hand, her knuckles white.

  “I have.”

  Valaine cackled. “Well, little shifter, don’t keep me in suspense. Who will it be? The dryad, the prince or the bosom friend?” She leaned closer to Serra eager for her decision, eager to know who she would be consuming.

  Serra took a deep breath and said loudly, so that her voice would ring against the stone, “I choose myself.”

  There came many gasps from the onlookers and Eva moaned, “Oh, Serra! No, you can’t.”

  Valaine was nodding. “She’s right, you know. That wasn’t the choice I gave you.”

  Serra balled up her fists, determined not to lose her nerve. “I know, but I am giving you a choice now. You can take me and let the children go, or I can make this feast very diffic
ult for you. Very difficult.” She stepped closer to the witch, hoping the smell of her magic would entice Valaine to her way of thinking. “I have enough power to feed you for seven lifetimes. You don’t even need them. You’re just being greedy. I won’t fight. I won’t object. I’ll just go with you and let you do the ceremony.” Serra lowered her voice so the children watching wouldn’t hear her. “They don’t know the effect the ceremony has, that you’ll look like me. They’ll think you are me and that somehow I escaped and defeated you. You will return to my life as a hero, exalted for rescuing these children. You will have my magic and more. You will have the gratitude of a King and the Dryads. You will have the respect of the kingdom.”

  Valaine licked her lips. “Yes. Yes, I like this idea of yours. I will have the respect and love of the people.” She raised her voice so the children could hear. “Very well, I will let these children go after the ceremony has taken place.”

  “No, you will let them go now.”

  “Impossible. As soon as I do, you would overwhelm such an old lady.” She sounded pathetic. But Serra knew better. Still, she could tell that Valaine would not give her all the children, but perhaps...

  “Half. Let half of them go now. Remove the metal from their bodies and let half of them go now.”

  Valaine laughed. “My dear little shifter, we are on an island. If I let them go now, they will simply stand out in the snow until the ceremony is over anyway. They won’t make it to the mainland.”

  Serra shook her head, remaining firm. “I don’t care. Let half of them go now. They will find a way to the mainland.”

  Valaine stared at Serra, her pale grey eyes shrewd. “Very well, shifter.” She raised her hand slowly until it was inches from Serra’s face, then she brought her thumb and middle finger together in a snap. There came the clanking of metal on stone and Serra turned to see that approximately half of the children had vanished, mostly the younger ones. Eva and Luc remained, Serra was not sure about Mhairie.

  “Where did they go?” Serra asked, her stomach suddenly tight with fear for them.

  “Oh, they’ll be dropping in on some old friends of yours.” Valaine patted Serra’s cheek with a wrinkled gnarled hand. “Don’t worry about them. Now, come along little shifter, we must prepare you for the feast.”

  Chapter 40

  REKS

  “I’m not sure that there is a safe place to anchor.” Rian said, studying the map of the area around the Isle of Eyes. “It all looks pretty rocky to me.”

  Shade Windburn, a sylph Reks vaguely remembered from his time in Hawksong Peak, pointed to a small crescent moon shaped cove. “This looks safest, though it’s on the other side of the island from the Citadel.”

  “Fat lot of good it will do us to save Serra if we can’t sail off this island.” Reks said. “It will take longer, but I would rather have an escape route.”

  Vaughn nodded. “Let’s make for that cove.”

  They kept as close to the shore as they dared, continuing their circuitous route around the island.

  The cliffs that jutted up from the beaches were sheer, impossible to climb. Thousands of figures had been carved into the stone, humans and sylphs, dryads and tiny pixies, mages and dwarfs, all looking out to the water that surrounded it. As they sailed by the sentinel figures it felt as though their eyes followed the boat, regarding their every move, giving the isle its name. It was disconcerting to say the least.

  Reks was considering a pair of figures, a male sylph and a female human, arms wrapped around each other, when Vaughn’s shout caught his attention. “What the hell?”

  Just up the beach a group of children stood huddled together, wearing hardly more than rags in the falling snow. Most of them were not older than ten.

  “Where the hell did they come from?” Reks shouted at the others.

  They came to stand at the railing, looking at the children on the shore. One of them noticed the ship and began to wave their arms frantically.

  “We have to get them,” Rian said. “We can’t leave them there.”

  “It could be a trap,” Shade said.

  Reks’ knuckles turned white on the railing. He had just spotted Mya among the group and two of his other pickpockets that had been taken. “Trap or not we have to get them aboard. They’re why we came.”

  “Our time is short. We must reach the citadel before night falls.” Shade said. “The number one priority is stopping the witch from consuming your friend’s essence.”

  “Serra would want us to help them,” Reks said between clenched teeth.

  The sylphs remained unconvinced. Finally, Vaughn said, “it would be faster to simply try to save them than to sit here and debate it. Any sylphs who feel it is not necessary may continue to the citadel. We will get the children aboard and meet you there.”

  Reks and Vaughn rowed a small boat to the shore. The water was icy when Reks jumped in to pull the boat to the sand. Many of the children leapt into the waves to help as well. Mya let out a cry when she saw him and threw her arms around him. “I knew you’d come. I just knew it!”

  He returned her embrace, then gently removed her arms. “We’ve no time to waste. Get in the boat.” Mya scrambled to the front of the boat and settled down. Reks looked at the other children. “We can’t take all of you at once, but we will come back for you. I promise.”

  The few sylphs who had remained behind with the ship flew to the beach upon seeing that no trap waited for them. They each carried two children back to the ship at a time, while Vaughn and Reks rowed underneath them, sweat dripping off their brows even in the freezing weather.

  Rian met them at the railing. “Luc?” he asked Vaughn, who shook his head slowly.

  “No Mhairie, either.”

  It took them four trips to transport all the children to the ship. They huddled in the hold, wrapped in blankets and eating the food that Sylvan had thought to supply.

  The sylphs flew ahead to join their comrades and the ship continued on its way to the cove.

  As the sun dipped down toward the horizon, Reks worried that it might be too late.

  Chapter 41

  SYLVAN

  The air in the cave was damp and even colder than the air outside. Sylvan shivered as they walked the first few feet in. The light from the entrance of the cave began to diminish and Sylvan was about to create her own light when Mikhail exclaimed, “What’s that?”

  She heard rather than saw him draw his sword. The idea of a bent over Sylph trying to fight in a cave was almost too much for Sylvan.

  “It’s just a light, I think. Maybe Valaine didn’t want to leave her sister in dark?” They continued deeper into the cave and when they reached the source of the light they saw a single blue green glowing plant. It had forced its way out of the rock. A pink bud was just beginning to bloom.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this!” Sylvan said, almost wishing she had the time to examine it. “I’ve never heard of a plant that glows.”

  Mikhail gave her a tiny nudge. “We have to keep moving.”

  Sylvan nodded and continued. The farther they went in the tunnel, the more glowing plants they came across, in all colors, lighting the way to where Valeria slept. After about fifteen minutes the glow was so strong they didn’t need Sylvan’s light to see. Moments later they stepped into a large cavern.

  More of the strange flowers grew here, blanketing the floor of the cave with green-blue foliage. A path lead from where Sylvan and Mikhail stood to a large stone bed, carved out of the stone of the cavern, in the center of the underground garden. Stone pillars reached from the floor of the cavern to the ceiling, making the four posters of the bed. A canopy of vines and flowers twined themselves up the pillars and together over the woman who slept peacefully on her bed of stone.

  “Well,” Sylvan said, stepping onto the path. “Here goes nothing.”

  As they approached the bed, the flowers seemed to turn their faces toward them, following their progress. Sylvan kept her eyes focused on
the young woman with red hair in the bed. She looked though she had only laid down an hour ago, not five hundred years before. When they had almost reached the bed, a voice stopped them.

  “You are not my sister.” The voice surrounded them, echoed off the cave walls. The woman on the bed had not moved, though Sylvan was sure the voice had come from her.

  “No,” Sylvan said, her voice shaky. “No, we are not your sister.”

  “Then why have you come? My sister is the only one who visits me, though it has been many years since she has come.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” Mikhail murmured behind her. Sylvan shushed him.

  “Your sister has done terrible things and we need your help to stop her.” Sylvan took another step forward.

  Valeria seemed to sigh, “No one knows my sister’s evils better than I. She took my love from me. But, alas, I cannot help you while I sleep.”

  “We are here to wake you.” The flowers around them seemed to laugh.

  “A dryad and a sylph would undo one of the most powerful curses cast by one of the most powerful mages of all time?” Valeria paused. “Still I suppose you are better than nothing. A dryad does have a certain amount of magic. I have some ideas of spells you can try, old spells that you have not heard of.”

  Sylvan had to bite her tongue, the dryads had magics going back thousands of years. She had memorized most of the spells, as many of them as her mind could hold. Still, she had lost her connection to the trees and so a part of her magic. She hoped that she would have enough to do what was necessary.

  “Step up to the bed, Dryad, and take my hands.”

  “My name is Natesa Sylvandra der Harfina, not Dryad. You may call me Sylvan.” She stepped up to the bed and picked up the mage’s hands. The ring finger of the left hand was missing, taken when Valaine had needed to convince Valeria’s lover of her death. Now that Sylvan could see Valeria clearly, she was struck by how normal she looked. She had expected some great beauty, as the story books had described Valaine, but beyond her unusually red hair and flawless pale skin, she just looked ordinary.