by Taylor Leigh
It was going to be rough, but Arkron seemed to have faith in him, and he wasn’t about to let her down. For someone who didn’t want anything to do with taking on the responsibility of rule, he felt a new desire to make everything right. He wanted to change Scrabia for the better, to make Layers something respectable. Slaves and plunderers and gladiators, he had seen their worth and vowed to make things different, no matter what it took.
He pulled the ring out of his pocket and held it up to the dawning light, watching the red stone glint in the sun. No. Things could not go back to the way they were.
‘Now,’ he muttered to the ring. ‘What am I gonna do with you?’
‘Bury it,’ a strange voice said from behind him.
Reginald spun on the spot and came face-to-face with a beautiful woman glowing with golden light. ‘Y—you?’
She smiled, full lips barely visible through the glow. ‘Hiya.’
Reginald gaped. ‘You’re the light that saved us, that guided us out of the darkness, aren’t you?’
She didn’t reply.
Reginald held up the ring. ‘You said you want me to bury this thing? Why? It’s dangerous. Shouldn’t it be locked up somewhere?’
The Lady of Light stepped a bit closer. ‘Look, I know it sounds completely mental, but you’ve got to do it. Someday…someone is going to find that thing, and that person is gonna need it. I don’t want to sound dramatic but a great deal depends on the right person getting her hands on it.’
Reginald turned the ring over. ‘Even if it’s got that Darkness stuff in it?’
The apparition nodded. ‘You have to trust me on this, please.’
‘Reginald?’ Arkron’s voice sounded from down the hall.
Reginald glanced back to the ghostly girl. ‘Right, then.’ He swallowed. ‘I’ll do it. But you better be right about this. I could be making a big mistake.’
She closed her eyes, relieved. ‘Thanks.’ Then cast a glance towards the hall. ‘I think I’d better leave you now. You’re going to be pretty busy from here on out.’
Her body started to fade before Reginald’s eyes.
‘Oi! Wait!’ Reginald called. ‘Thanks…you know, for what you did. We wouldn’t have made it. I’m starting to see that now. I’d be lost without everyone who’s helped me. And I don’t even know who you are.’
She beamed. ‘You’re welcome!’ Her expression grew thoughtful. ‘Maybe we’ll even meet again someday.’
And then she was gone, leaving Reginald alone, but not for long.
Arkron walked up to stand beside him. The glowing sun shone off the shiny scars on her face. She seemed happier than he’d ever seen her.
‘Your loyal troops want to see you,’ she said, smiling gently. ‘They want a speech.’
Reginald turned to look at her and smiled. ‘You know, I used to be so cowardly when it came to public speaking. Now it seems to be so natural.’
Arkron grinned. ‘You were pretty horrible at the beginning; you’ve come a long way.’ They turned back to the interior of the palace, Reginald following Arkron’s lead.
‘So, what are you going to do about the stones, Your Royal Highness?’
Reginald sighed. ‘The stone will be put under lock and key in the palace vaults. It’ll remain there for ever.’
Arkron nodded approvingly and glanced to the ring. ‘And the ring?’
Reginald frowned. He closed his eyes briefly, praying that the ghostly girl was good, and not evil. And that her suggestion really was for the better. He took Arkron’s hand and closed her fingers round it. ‘Bury it.’
Arkron’s thin eyebrows went up. ‘What?’
Reginald shook his head. ‘I know it sounds crazy, but it’s a feeling I can’t shake. It has to be buried, somewhere here in the city. Somewhere secret.’
Arkron shrugged, pocketing the small trinket. ‘Right, if you’re sure about that. Sounds a bit stupid to me, but you’re the King. At least we won’t have to worry about it for another five hundred years.’
Reginald nodded sadly. ‘I doubt I’ll be around that long.’
Arkron put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll keep an eye on things for you.’
Reginald pulled a long face. He couldn’t shake the hungry sense at the back of his mind. ‘What was that stuff, Arkron? That blackness that you couldn’t stop? The stuff in that ring?’
Arkron sighed. ‘It was something I haven’t seen for a long time. A very, very long time. I thought it was gone. I guess it’s not. We just called it the Darkness.’
‘How did you defeat it last time?’
Arkron shook her head. ‘I didn’t. A man called the Traveller did. Or at least, we thought he did. It looks like it’s back.’
Reginald sucked in a breath. ‘There you go, on about the Traveller again. Will I ever get the chance to meet him?’
Arkron smiled. ‘If you’re lucky. For now, there’s nothing we can do about the Darkness. It entered that ring because it was the nearest thing still giving off dark energy. From what I’ve gathered, the Darkness can’t survive in any given Realm without something to sustain it, like those stones, for example. It will stay in there unless someone draws it out. For now, you’ve got more pressing matters, like how to get this city back into some sort of order.’
Reginald nodded, obediently pushing the nagging fear from his mind. Arkron was right. What good was worrying about something you couldn’t control? ‘Where’s Marus?’ he asked. He wanted to personally thank the gladiator for his bravery. Without him, they wouldn’t have won.
‘He’s gone back down to the lower layers to see how his friends are getting on.’
‘We wouldn’t have done this without him. Or you. Thanks, Arkron. I’d be dead by now. Or drugged—if I’d never met you.’
Arkron pulled him into a hug. ‘Don’t mention it, kid. Now, get out there and give those people something to cheer about!’
Reginald squared his shoulders and walked towards the entrance to the balcony, where Crammell bowed deeply to him. He strode into the rising sun, feeling full of hope seeing the clear blue sky.
Several Months Later
Victoria sat across from Andrew in the drawing room. It was a quiet evening, just the two of them, like so many times before. Yet this time was different. He sat plucking his strange stringed instrument, completely detached from the rest of the world, brain whirling a thousand worlds away. A warm fire crackled in the hearth, lighting his pale skin with a glow that made him appear more alive than normal.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she’d been sitting there. The sun had long ago set and the sky was alight with the red glow of Scrabia. The thought made her sad.
She watched Andrew, who was staring blankly at some fixed point beyond her, eyes unseeing, and felt a miserable rush of emotions wash through her. She was never going to see him again. She told herself that the thought shouldn’t bother her as much as it did. Andrew was not the easiest person to like, she’d be the first to admit, and yet…and yet she cared more for him than anyone. Ever.
It was her last night. The next night Scrabia would rotate into the sky and pull her and Tollin away, back to her dusty red world. The past few months had been a quiet rush, moving much too fast, but had been, for the most part, uneventful. The village was being rebuilt. Thanks to Andrew’s genius, the city was being redesigned in a more logical way. New water systems were put in place along with new plumbing. Streets were now lined with gas lamps and the soggy roads were repaved with the smooth lake stones that abounded in the area. Houses were being built in ways that conserved more heat and, most importantly, a firehouse had been built.
Construction was still underway, but already Victoria could see what Andrew had envisioned. It was something innovating, something wonderful, something she’d never seen the likes of before. The city was just another piece of evidence proving just how beautiful his complicated mind was.
There was a loud knock on the open door, pulling Victoria back
to the present. She turned to see Tollin leaning in the doorframe, arms crossed. Andrew paid him no mind.
‘Hullo,’ he said, smiling gently. ‘Just a reminder, tomorrow is going to be a long day. Might not want to stay up too late tonight.’
‘Thanks, Tollin,’ she muttered.
He nodded and gave her a sad smile, then he ducked out of the room, off on his own mission. Tollin had spent most of his time out in the forest working with the Druids, gathering stoneflower samples and floating podplants. Preparing for his rescue of Scrabia.
‘Can’t believe this is my last night,’ she sighed at last.
Andrew blinked and turned to look at her, reminding her a bit of an owl, seeming rather surprised to see her sitting across from him. ‘Sorry?’
When she’d finally told Andrew of her plans to leave and not stay he hadn’t had much to say on the matter. He’d been almost disappointingly okay with it. But he’d grown distant, cold. Somewhere inside of his tight shell, Victoria could have sworn she’d hurt him. She didn’t blame him. After she’d argued so hard to stay, she almost immediately turned around and told him she had to go. She knew it wasn’t fair.
Victoria began to wonder if Andrew’s original aversion to her staying had been an attempt to keep himself from being hurt emotionally. And he’d been hurt anyway. He made up for it by being more detached than ever. Victoria wished it were otherwise but didn’t know how to mend the wound. She supposed the damage had already been done. Andrew had been alone till she’d come along. She’d fought to stay with him, knowing full-well that he would die, and now, after gaining his trust and perhaps, hope, she was leaving. She felt incredibly guilty over the matter, but how could there be anything she could say that Andrew would accept.
She forced a miserable smile. ‘It’s my last night. I’m leaving tomorrow, remember?’
‘Oh, yes.’ He went back to plucking the instrument.
Victoria let out a deep breath. ‘Guess I should stop getting my hopes up around you.’
Andrew frowned, looking genuinely confused. ‘What?’
She studied him. ‘I just thought that maybe my last night with you would be a little more…significant.’
Andrew cocked his head to one side slightly, further bringing the image of an owl to mind. ‘I don’t understand.’
Victoria nodded. ‘I know,’ she sighed again. ‘Forget I said anything.’
He nodded, unconcerned, and returned his attention to his instrument.
‘Not like I should be thinking that way, anyway,’ Victoria continued. ‘I’m getting married when I return.’ She laughed bitterly and snuck a glance towards Andrew, seeing if the remark would draw any emotion out of him. Not surprisingly, it didn’t, though she thought she saw his brow lower ever so slightly. She scowled, disappointed.
‘Hope he’s up to the challenge,’ Andrew said in a low voice after a moment. More to himself than her.
Victoria glowered. ‘What?’
‘I hope your cousin is up for the task of dealing with you.’ He struck the wooden part of the instrument pointedly and gave her a look.
‘Well, I’m sure he’ll do a better job than you would!’ She stood up, ignoring the surprised frown on Andrew’s face. ‘I have to go to bed,’ she snapped.
Victoria lay in bed for several hours in the dark, fuming. She had her curtains pulled closed so she wouldn’t have to look at Scrabia. She’d be seeing plenty of it soon enough.
She decided that she hated him. Her last night and all he could think to say was cutting words? Why did he have to be such a horrible person all of the time? She clenched her teeth in irritation.
Honestly, what did she expect? It was just the way Andrew was. She understood why no-one loved him, but still, in some strange way, Victoria felt her anger draining away even as she fumed over it. Perhaps it was because she was tired or perhaps it was reluctant understanding. He was trying to push her away because she was leaving soon. In his mind perhaps having a rift between them when she left was the only way he’d be able to handle it. Perhaps it was the only way she could…
She knew Andrew was the way he was, horrible and unfeeling, because he was simply wired that way, as Tollin had warned her months ago. Despite that, he’d stayed with her, included her, more than anyone else. The others around them had been mystified by Andrew’s befriending of her. She was as well. Sure, he made her grind her teeth, but he was still her friend, her closest friend she’d had since she’d gotten here—no, the closest friend she’d ever had. Victoria mulled that over for a moment. Was this how they were going to part ways? With her angry at him? She didn’t want that to be her last memory of him. She doubted he felt offended at her anger—he probably had forgotten it by now—but it would haunt her for ever, she knew it. In all her life, Victoria knew she’d never meet another man like him, and she’d probably never have another friend like him. She couldn’t leave him the way she had.
A noise drifted through the air then. A quiet, musical noise, growing steadily louder and more confident with each passing note. Victoria sat up in bed and listened, frowning. It was the harpsichord, and the only person playing it at this hour could be Andrew. She listened to the music. It was a new song, one she’d never heard before. The melody was gentle and soft and somewhat sad. On and on it played and Victoria couldn’t help but feel that it was being played for her. She listened for a long moment and then finally slid out of bed, wrapped her robe round herself and went to the drawing room.
Andrew was seated at the instrument, deeply enthralled in his music. His eyes were closed yet his fingers moved over the keys with expert ease. Victoria sat down next to him on the bench, receiving a glance from him, and watched him play. A little while later he ended the song with a flourish and sat still.
Victoria smiled. ‘That was beautiful.’
‘I wasn’t sure if you’d come.’
She leant back to look at him. ‘I didn’t want to at first.’ She folded her arms across her chest. ‘But for some reason I just can’t seem to manage to stay cross with you.’
He smirked a little too cheekily for her liking. She gave him a gently shove.
‘So now what?’
Andrew stood from the bench and inclined his head, asking her to follow. ‘I want to show you something.’
They both walked out through the darkened town in silence, through the sand on the beach. The sound of gentle waves lapping at the shoreline was the only sound. Victoria inhaled a deep breath. It was a wonderful wet, cool smell. She closed her eyes, feeling the invisible rain hit her cheeks. When she opened them she saw Andrew standing at the edge of the narrow wooden dock that ran out over the water. It looked rather unstable, and she didn’t think it had been used in some time, but a little sailing boat was tied up at the end, bobbing up and down in the grey water. Andrew started out towards it, the boards rattling under his boots. Victoria stepped to the edge, where the water met the sand, and stopped. She stared down into the water, shallow and clear. Not that long ago she’d ridden across it with a giant dragon chasing her. Her gaze followed the water out to the end of the dock where it was dark and still. How things changed in a few months.
‘Coming?’ Andrew had stopped halfway and was looking back at her quizzically.
Victoria smiled. She glanced back down at her bare feet. Sand meeting water. Like Scrabia meeting Scottorr. The familiar and the alien. And out to Andrew. She stepped off the land and navigated the precarious platform till she stood next to him in the darkness.
In the distance the mournful drone of the lighthouse’s foghorn echoed across the lake. The black water reflected the shining sky alive with Molly’s golden lights and the red glow of Scrabia. Victoria breathed heavily and looked away from it. She watched a duck float by in the gloom, trailed by a string of ducklings. They stood in silence for a moment, Andrew’s hands deep in his coat pockets, Victoria watching the water.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ she told him. ‘I don’t think I’d ever get tired of looking at it
.’
His pale eyes locked with hers. ‘Have you ever been out on the lake at night?’
Victoria directed her gaze to the small sailing boat, which he’d turned to. ‘N—no…’
Andrew hopped aboard. ‘You said something earlier, about making your last night special. I know it isn’t much but this is what came to my mind.’
She smiled. ‘And I thought you weren’t listening.’
‘I trust it’s all right then?’
She nodded. ‘Perfect. It’s not what I had in mind but now that I’m here, I can’t think of anything more perfect.’
Andrew started talking fast, ‘Out on the lake on the eve of every passing, luminescent plankton swarm the surface. It’s a most…interesting phenomenon. I’ve heard people say it’s beautiful. I’ve only witnessed it a time or two myself…’
She walked to the edge of the dock, her eyes immediately drawn to the black water. Suddenly, much to her revulsion, fear leaked into her heart. ‘I don’t know if I can go out there,’ she said weakly.
Andrew almost smiled. ‘You? Afraid?’
Victoria ran a hand through her curly hair. ‘Silly, isn’t it, after all I’ve been through lately. But in all the excitement, I still haven’t learnt to swim. The water, it’s so…dark. I could just sink for ever…’ Victoria stared down at the dock. It was littered with seashells and bird droppings.
Andrew was smiling now. ‘I won’t let that happen, I promise. And it’s impossible, you will not sink for ever. The water is calm tonight, no sea monsters.’
Victoria rolled her eyes. ‘You’re a world of comfort.’
His pale eyes shone with encouraging light. He held out his hand to her. Victoria slowly placed her hand in his, marvelling for the hundredth time just how pale he was, compared to her dark skin.