“Whatever for?” “Just do it, will you? I’ll explain later,” he lied.
Shrugging again, Phaedria began muttering a few garbled words that Archimago only half recognized. He wasn’t well skilled in Conjuring. He could summon a flame or two, but not enough to use as a weapon. His specialty was in illusion, one of the lesser arts, yet thereby often the most overlooked.
A figure began to form on the ground in front of them, the figure of a man. First came the skeleton, then muscles and organs formed on top of that, followed by the blood vessels and skin, before finally growing hair.
Phaedria stopped her chanting. “There, are you satisfied? Now what is this about?”
“I needed a decoy,” Archimago said, bending down to inspect the body, and weaving a bit of silent illusory magic himself. With that illusion, he created an impression of himself, convincing Phaedria that he was still bent over the lifeless double, and hiding his real self from her eyes. In a sense, there were now three versions of Archimago. The lifeless copy of his body, the illusion of himself, and the real thing. Slowly, he crept behind Phaedria.
“A decoy?” she said, still staring at the illusion he had created. “Is this to lure the girl or the knight into a trap somehow? I don’t understand you humans at times.”
Behind her now, Archimago swiftly pulled a knife from his belt and thrust it through her heart.
Phaedria gasped, and every one of her muscles began to tighten, to compress. She tried to reach back, but Archimago had a firm grip.
“I find it odd that you address us as ‘humans’ as though we’re any different from you,” said Archimago calmly in her ear. “Did not humans make up a greater part of those banished to the Otherworld? You may have magic, but you are not immortal.”
Phaedria could not utter a word, she merely turned her head backwards, her mouth open, unable to gasp for air as her throat constricted. Then Archimago pushed her forward, and she collapsed with the knife still embedded to the hilt in her back.
That had been far easier than Archimago thought it would be. Apart from the Sins and perhaps a handful of others, it seemed many of their minions were just as weak as any other being on this planet. Archimago would see to it that he was never disrespected again. If he was ever found again, that is.
He spent the next hour dragging Phaedria’s body, and that of the body double she’d constructed, up the hill to the place where Pyrochles and Cymochles lay dead.
Then, carefully observing how the brothers had been slain, he put out the eyes of both Phaedria and his body double, and lit their bodies on fire. He did the same to the two brothers for good measure. No one would know that they were dead before their bodies burned.
When he was finished, he stepped back and observed his handiwork. There were now four bodies where there had been two, and they all appeared to have died of the same ailment.
Once Acrasia, Duessa, or one of the other Sins discovered their bodies, they would assume that Archimago had died with the rest, and no one would come looking for him. It was the perfect setup. All would blame Guyon and the girl, while he would get away free.
He would have to give up his identity of course. No one must see his true face again. He would hide, take on a new identity, perhaps even settle down with someone. If the Sins did take over in the end, he would present himself as a loyal servant, and none would know it was him. He would find new glory for himself. And if they didn’t win, well, then he would be free to resume whatever course of action he wanted to take. All he had to do was keep up the illusion.
And if there was one thing he was good at, it was pretending to be someone else.
The trip back to the Holy Island did not take as long as Guyon feared it would, being without a horse and all. In fact, they made pretty good time, all things considered. They didn’t have to deal with any strange creatures or knights from Annwyn. All in all, the journey was uneventful.
So why did Guyon feel like they were grieving?
Una had said almost nothing since they left. He was used to long stretches of silence, but even he enjoyed occasional good conversation when it was there to be had. He and Una had gotten along well enough up to this point. Yet now, something had driven a wedge between them.
He’d tried several times to get her to talk about what she’d done a week ago. But she would not reply, not even a word in protest or to tell him to stop asking. She simply said nothing.
Nevertheless, he was able to guess quite a lot. She’d used her magic, and that had resulted in the death of both Pyrochles and his brother. And a gruesome death too. Guyon couldn’t help but shiver when he thought of their pale corpses, their hollow cheeks, and their eyes, blackened as though by fire.
He’d known for a long time that Una possessed magic, but he’d never had a clue, not even an inkling of just how strong she was. The magic he’d seen usually allowed the user to confuse the enemy, not outright destroy it. Oh, he’d heard of certain rogues who could do that much, some who could even do the opposite of killing: necromancy. But Una had never received training, at least not as far as Guyon knew. How she had done what she’d done was a complete mystery to him.
There wasn’t much to be done at this point. He wasn’t afraid of her. Clearly she meant him no ill will. If anything, he was more afraid for her. This wasn’t balanced behavior she displayed now. She spent most of her days simply staring at the ground, never looking up.
Something had to be done about it, but she did not know what. He was certainly not in the best position to provide comfort. His best advice would be to practice temperance and mindfulness. Then whatever ailed her would not inflict as much harm to the mind. Yet something told him such advice would not be well received.
So instead, he simply walked with her, never wavering. He had to let her know that he was there for her and always would be.
He set his sights on the road. After arriving back on the mainland, he’d decided their best course of action was to return to the Holy Island. They needed a ship, and that town was as good a place as any to get one. Medina would be there, and she would be more than willing to help, which would save them the time of finding someone willing to donate or barter a vessel big enough to get them to the Bower of Bliss. And he was reasonably sure that the Holy Island was somewhat close to Acrasia’s lair. Amavia, his sister, had apparently been to the Holy Island before stowing away on Acrasia’s boat. That could only mean wherever Acrasia launched from, it was nearby.
Una hadn’t protested his decision to go back the way they’d come. She had merely nodded after Guyon had explained his logic, and she’d done nothing but follow him this far.
He hoped that she was still willing to go with him to Acrasia’s Bower of Bliss. She’d pulled him out of several mishaps up till now, and most of them without the direct use of her magic. Her knowledge, for one, was invaluable. Indeed, she seemed to know more about the Faerie Queen and the spawn of the Otherworld than anyone else.
Well, they would just have to cross that bridge when they came to it. There wasn’t anything Guyon could do about it now.
Ahead, he caught the first sight of the bridge that led from the bulk of Anglesey to the Holy Island. They had finally made it. All it would take was a few hours travel after this, and they would be back.
His heart longed to see Medina. It was a shame that he would have to leave again so soon. But at least he had fulfilled his promise, albeit somewhat differently than he had imagined. He would have to come back again in the future. Perhaps for a very long time.
Una followed him over the bridge and onto the island. This island, though much bigger than the tiny Idle Isle from whence he’d found the Amulet of Odysseus, still wasn't all that large. It wouldn’t take them long to get to their destination.
He took a moment to stare down at the amulet around his neck. He’d nearly died obtaining that amulet, and Una had come out of the Idle Isle with worse scars it seemed. He hoped it was worth it. He didn’t know what kind of power Acrasia held, but
hopefully it wouldn’t be enough to overcome both his balanced will, and the added power of the amulet.
Eventually, they crested a hill and looked out onto the Head, the only major town on the Holy Island, and the center of trade for miles around. In the distance, he could make out the old Roman fort that now made up the governor’s keep.
“I wonder if anyone has claimed the governorship?” he said aloud.
As expected, Una didn’t answer. But she stared in the same direction he did, and there was something about her gaze that looked more...relaxed. Perhaps she was as grateful as he was to see a familiar sight.
“We should hurry,” said Guyon. “We should try and get to the fortress before dusk.”
The sun was already setting, but they were efficient with their travel these days, despite, or perhaps because, of Una’s uncharacteristic silence. She simply walked, and all Guyon had to do was set the pace.
Passing through the town, something strange caused Guyon to take notice. It was midday, but there were hardly any people in the streets. Few tended to the docks, and fewer still could be seen at the local shops.
Suddenly, Una spoke, nearly startling Guyon. “They’re all women.”
As Guyon followed her gaze out towards the street and the docks to the side, he saw that she was right. Those who could be seen on the streets and among the docks were women. Not a single man walked about.
“Acrasia,” he growled, and Una nodded, though she said no more.
“We have to get to Medina,” said Guyon, pushing forward.
30
When they arrived at the fortress, the gate was closed and locked. No sound of fighting came from within, thank the gods. But they caught sight of a servant or someone moving within. Guyon straightened a little, and rang a bell that hung outside of the gate.
They didn’t have to wait long before one of the servants poked her head out from the walls within, and gasped upon seeing them. Then she turned and ran inside.
Several heartbeats later, she returned, and behind her came…
“Medina,” he exclaimed with some relief. He knew it was only the men who were gone, but it was good to get confirmation that Medina was okay.
“Guyon!” she said as she hurried to unlock the gate with a key she carried. “I was so worried for you. I feared you’d come afoul of Acrasia’s power.”
“We never encountered her directly, but we’ve had other close calls,” he replied.
The gate swung open, and Medina led them through. “Well, she came here not two days back, and took all the men with her.
“All of them? Even Kay?”
She nodded. “Elissa said Kay left before the incident, but all other men are gone.”
“Elissa told you? Were you not there?” Una asked. Guyon glanced at her. He’d heard more words from her today than in the entire two-week trip here.
“I was tending to my people in the south. I’m the new governess here.”
Despite the grave situation, Guyon couldn’t help but smile. “It is well deserved.”
She smiled back, but only for a brief moment as she met his eyes. “The people eventually spoke out and said they wanted me. But little good I’ve done since then. Now half the city is gone, and there is nothing more I could do about it.”
“Did anyone try to stop Acrasia?” Una asked.
Medina shook her head. “Unfortunately, when some of them tried, Acrasia killed them right where they stood. Their bodies were gaunt and their eyes burned out. People stopped trying after that.”
Una went slightly pale and stared down at the floor again. Guyon knew what she was thinking. She was remembering the corpses of Pyrochles and Cymochles. They had died in a similar manner.
“Well, we might be able to help,” said Guyon, and he pulled the amulet out from under his armor so that its golden light and aquamarine jewel were clearly visible.
Medina’s eyes went wide. “You found it!”
Guyon nodded, “It took a toll on us,” he glanced over at Una. “But we have it, and we are prepared to use it against Acrasia.”
A look of determination entered Medina’s eyes. “Yes, we must send you on your way. There are plenty of ships now that there are no men to use them. I can give you one that will get you there.”
“Do you have any idea where to find this mysterious island Acrasia has taken up residence in?”
“My people carefully watched their trajectory when Acrasia left with all the men. One woman even followed from a distance. We know the general direction, but my friend had to turn around before she went very far. There was a great tempest that came out of nowhere.”
“No doubt part of Acrasia’s protection.” Guyon looked down at the amulet around his neck. “This should give us the strength we need to pass through whatever troubles await us there.”
“I just hope you won’t get lost,” said Medina. “Even with what I can tell you about the general heading, it could still be easy to go astray.”
“We won’t get lost,” said Una. Guyon glanced at her to see the woman had a steely look in her eye. Determination like he had never seen in Una before. Well, it was good to know she was planning to come with him.
Guyon turned back to Medina with one last question. “Is the child well?”
Medina smiled, “Yes, he is well, and now the only bachelor left on the Holy Island. He’s sleeping right now.” Though she chuckled at her joke, a look of soberness came over her. “Thank you for coming back.”
“I wish it was under better circumstances,” he said. “Right now, we need haste. Let’s find a boat.”
After taking them to the armory where Guyon was able to reequip himself with a new sword and shield, Medina went with them to the harbor and spoke with many of the women there. Most did not manage the boats themselves, a job previously held by their husbands while they prepped the fish for sale. But Medina eventually found the woman who had tailed Acrasia’s ship for a short distance.
“Guyon, Una, this is Roslyn,” said Medina after talking with the woman for a while. “She’s agreed to take you to the island.”
Roslyn was a stern-looking woman in her late thirties, with hair bleached by the sun, and skin bearing such a deep tan, she almost appeared like one of the moors Guyon had met in his travel. Her face bore the roughness of interacting with salt water on a daily basis, and her eyes sparkled a brilliant light blue.
The woman regarded both of them equally. “Medina tells me you can get us through the storms I encountered.”
“We believe so,” said Guyon.
“I’ll need a bit more than ‘believe’ son. You didn’t see what I saw. If I had not turned around when I did, I would have been sucked into a maelstrom. There’s no chance anyone could sail through without some kind of sorcery like that woman brought to our land.”
“We have what you need,” said Una with an intense gaze.
Roslyn turned to look at Una with a suspicious gaze, but Guyon quickly explained, pulling the amulet out. “We recovered this artifact. It should lead us through the tempests unscathed.”
“Yes,” said Roslyn, observing the trinket. “So Medina has told me, and you’re lucky I trust that one. Well, I will agree to take you as far as I can, but if I see any evidence that this bobble of yours will not work, we will turn around. Understood?”
Guyon nodded.
“Very well,” she said. “Have you any experience with fishing boats?”
Guyon shook his head. “I’ve been on larger vessels before, but nothing this small.”
“Well, you’ll learn fast. I’m understaffed now that the men are gone, and this boat needs at least two people to operate. You’ll do what I tell you to do, yes?”
“Yes...ma’am,” said Guyon. It seemed the appropriate honorific to use.
“Very well, now climb on board.”
It was a modest fishing boat, but still one of the larger ships in the harbor, probably the largest meant for fishing at least. At full capacity, it might have held as
much as twenty large men. It had two sails, and a large rudder at the back. The inside was strewn with fishing equipment, from large nets to harpoons.
Both Guyon and Una worked hard to get the ship ready to launch, neither of them complaining of the work. It seemed both of them were determined to get to the Bower of Bliss at any cost, and now was not the time to delay.
By the time they were ready, night was already here, but Roslyn was prepared to leave regardless. “Medina told me to get you there as fast as we can, and not to delay. It’s a clear sky tonight, so if you’re willing, we’ll set out now.”
Both Una and Guyon agreed, and it wasn’t long before they were out of the harbor and into the open sea.
31
Guyon had to watch his footing as he moved about. Smaller vessels like this one moved quite a lot more than the big ones, and he hadn’t been prepared for that. The up and down, up and down, didn’t take long to cause his stomach a little unease.
Una didn’t look much better. She remained sitting with her gaze fixed forward. Though Guyon wasn’t sure she was having trouble with the constant motion of the boat, or if she was simply brooding as she’d done before.
When he had a moment, he sat beside her, not saying anything at first. Finally, he spoke. “I know what you did traumatized you. Are you worried of what we’ll find at the Bower?”
At first, she did not reply. Guyon looked away, staring at the floor. Well, perhaps she wasn’t going to answer, just as she hadn’t before.
“I’ve been made a monster,” she said at last, and Guyon turned back to look at her. “But at least I can ensure that I can rid the world of other monsters.”
Guyon adjusted himself on the seat so he was facing her. “Listen to me,” he said. “You are not a monster.”
“You saw what I did.”
“That was…” he searched for the right word. “Dramatic, but in the end it may have been necessary. What would those two have done if you hadn’t intervened. They would have killed me and taken the amulet. Then where would we be?”
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