Katrina gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t slow down. No! Don’t listen. Talk to me, instead. Yes?”
Alyra opened her mouth, but her mind was so cluttered, she couldn’t manage to say anything, or think anything else. Now three other chief guards joined their captain.
Stitch whimpered, as his hands trembled so hard, he dropped his bow. Jerin muttered to himself. Katrina’s eyes widened and brow furrowed. She clutched her book and whispered passages she had memorized.
“Your Prince is angry because the centaur. He cannot possibly recover.” Bezoar laughed nastily. “We wounded him too deeply. Not even a creature will survive such wounds. And it’s entirely your fault. You didn’t obey. You worried only about your comfort. Your safety. How selfish. How fitting you are for King Darnel, your master. He misses you. He’ll take you back. He’s proud of your behavior. He holds no grudges. Come back now, and there will be no punishment.”
“He’s not my master anymore!” She replied through clenched teeth. “I’ll never be his prisoner again!”
She’d rather beg Issah and King Shaydon to allow her to be a slave in Aloblase, then return to that stinking, miserable castle. Trying to calm the pounding in her chest, Alyra breathed deep. Fear and guilt stabbed at her heart and worry clouded her thoughts as she wondered if Bezoar was right about how the King would receive her.
Bubbling laughter rose up inside her very being and not knowing how she knew, she realized there were no slaves in Shaydon’s land. Then another thought struck her. Bezoar hadn’t been in that battle. Stitch said he’d taken a unit to a southern town. How did he know anything about Lotari? Even the Logorian warriors didn’t know of her friend’s fate.
Jerin yelled, “Enough!” and hurled a stone at his tormentor. The rock whizzed right past the Baykok causing him to laugh raucously. The soldiers behind the chief guard quickly dodged the white rock, looking quite worried. Jerin covered his ears, not realizing they were speaking into his mind, and not out loud.
Tears flowed from Katrina’s dark eyes, yet she kept her chin up and face forward. “I don’t care,” she kept saying over and over, “I don’t care. All is not lost. He said so. I’m not…”
“Princessss,” Bezoar continued, the insistence in his voice intensified. “Even if Shaydon does accept you, which is unlikely, you’ll be sent out again. You cannot stay in Aloblase forever. He expects service. He expects you to give up all your desires, your wants, and your needs. Give everything up for him and what he wants. You’re much too selfish to do that.” He seemed to grow taller, and to her horror, he moved across the path halting right in front of them.
The travelers stopped, Katrina had tears flowing down her cheeks. Even Stitch whimpered and cowered behind the girl, his hands covering his face. Jerin still muttered to himself, saying that he hadn’t meant for that to happen. He fell to his knees, weeping.
“King Darnel was only trying to keep you safe.” Bezoar continued, slowly pulling his sword from its sheath. “You see, stupid girl, you are the light child the prophecy speaks of. You will be asked to return as an adversary. That cannot be allowed to happen!” He held the sword up over his head. “I’ll give you one more chance to come back home or you’ll die like your mother. Last time she and I spoke, I’d sworn to kill you myself. Just as I killed her.”
He killed Mo? But why? What threat could she have been? Anger surged like water from a busted spout. She threw down her shield and pushed away from the others yelling, “You rank, disgusting maggot!” Her hand seized a stone from the path and as her fingers closed around the white rock, a surge of power coursed through her body.
“Shut up!”
The glowing rock sailed from her hand and hit Bezoar right in the forehead knocking him back like a feather caught in an updraft. Alyra realized he wasn’t actually on the path, but hovering inches above.
Pointing, she shouted, “You’ll regret the day you ever messed with me or my family!”
Radiance burst from her outstretched arm like an explosion, wrapping tendrils of light over the distraught travelers. The howl from the soldiers was deafening. Bezoar, reeling from the blow to his head, was hit full force by the glow. He landed backwards on the white rocks and with a sizzling pop burst into flames. The chief guards screeched and vanished in a puff of black sulfurous smoke. Such brilliance shone about her and the others that the dark soldiers dove in all directions to get away. Alyra turned toward her friends to see an intricately woven cap of light, like ice crystals on a glass, covering them as well as her.
Bezoar had been the one who killed her mother. That thought tightened around her like a noose. Was her death a mere coincidence? Or had she been victim of some kind of trap? Maybe that’s why Issah had been coming for her after the burial, to take her somewhere safe? What could a small girl like herself do to cause all this trouble? Her knees buckled and she wobbled on her feet. Maybe the prophecy really was about her.
Stitch whooped. “Excuse the pun, Miss, but that was brilliant! They really fear your light.”
Alyra’s head swam, the lights spinning then suddenly going out. All her strength left her, and she collapsed into blackness.
Chapter 38
Mesmerized, Alyra stood beneath the entrance gate. The city gently sloped up the hillside in a series of twisting streets, made from the same glittering rocks she’d followed throughout her journey. Colorful, grand buildings rose up on each side, adorned with wisteria and sweet scented jasmine pouring down from the balconies and open windows.
Bezoar’s words still taunted her. “How do you expect them to take you back now, Princessss? After you willingly left? After all you’ve done for the Dark Lord?” What would the King think of her returning with nothing except two scratched and dented medallions? One of them belonging to his messenger who’d been killed because of her.
Alyra hung her head. Why bother?
Gwynedd stood beside her, arms wrapped around Alyra’s trembling shoulders. “Welcome back.”
“What if—”
“Come child, King Shaydon is waiting.” Gwynedd tugged at her.
Gardens lined the walkways, budding with every kind of plant imaginable. Large tropical flowers and plants grew that smelled so sweet and tangy she wanted to taste them. Morning glories and honeysuckle spread over archways and brushed against her cheek as she passed. The city was filled with various manners of people and creatures.
“Do they all live here?” Alyra asked.
“Most. Mainly those who attend the Academy. Others are visiting, or have an audience with King Shaydon.”
“It’s even more beautiful than my most vivid dreams.”
After the encounter with Bezoar, she’d awakened in a healer’s house on the border of Aloblase. Jerin had remained by her side, while Katrina and Stitch continued into the city. A Logorian messenger showed up insisting he also proceed to the city and meet with the King. Once Alyra regained full consciousness, and Jerin knew she’d be all right, he agreed to leave with his own escort, making her promise she’d come as soon as her strength returned. The healer’s fruit tea soon had her back on her feet and by the next morning, Gwynedd arrived to bring Alyra to Shaydon’s throne room.
They crossed a bridge. Her escort’s yellow curls blew in the soft breeze as she stopped and peered into the crystal clear water rushing past. Gwynedd wore a flowing emerald green dress that offset the gold in her almond shaped eyes. A circlet of silver sat on her forehead, adorned with dangling emeralds and other jewels.
“Alyra dear, this is the source of the rivers you often stopped at for a drink or rest. It flows all through the kingdom of Alburnium, bringing nourishment to the lands and people.”
Alyra remembered the day she and Jerin had drunk from the Dark Lord’s bitter waters. After that fiasco, she’d learned to be more careful.
“Gwynedd, where are my friends?”
“You’ll see them again soon.”
“What about Lotari? Is he alive?”
Gwynedd stoppe
d between two pillars of green jade. “All your questions will be answered soon, my dear. One thing at a time. Are you ready to go in?”
Alyra looked around, wondering where “in” was. Between the many columns, a variety of trees, shrubs and flowers grew, full of assorted bird songs. The sky was as bright as a midsummer’s day. The river flowed from nowhere. She peeked between the pillars and found its source was a rather large pond, or perhaps a lake since the water continued on beyond view.
The dream where she’d chased Issah right up to these pillars came back to her. A memory, not a dream, after all.
Taking her hand, Gwynedd led her along the path that stopped at the water’s edge. The lake circled around an island of sorts where two white trees grew, their branches interwove into a canopy. They were the same as she’d seen in the Kingdom towns and carved into the meeting hall doorways. The yellow star-shaped flowers and strange red fruit filled the boughs.
“Where is the king?” Alyra asked in a stunned whisper.
Sweet-smelling grass grew between sparkling rocks. An irresistible urge took hold to remove her shoes and allow her toes to feel the soft earth. Her feet slipped from her boots. She gasped, enjoying a most delicious sensation.
With each step, her perspective changed. The plush, green land seemed to stretch out for miles. Impossible!
An elephant rumbled past, trumpeting. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, only to open them and see wild horses running over a plain on her left. A screech caused her to look up at an eagle soaring overhead. Then she gasped. The bird soared not against a blue, cloud-dotted sky, but the universe. Stars by the billions, and bright round planets, some with glimmering rings, filled the vastness above. Her neck craned back as a meteor shot past. What kind of wonderment had she stepped into?
A voice boomed, “Why are you here, Alyra?” It came from everywhere all at once. A brilliant light burst from between the trees, burning her eyes and blocking out her surroundings. “What are you seeking, child?”
She ducked her head, allowing the backpack to slip to the ground. She felt exposed. She felt shabby and dirty. She felt completely unworthy to be standing there. Her legs buckled and she fell to her knees.
“I shouldn’t be here. I don’t deserve to be here.” Her shoulders shook with sobs as she said over and over, “I am sorry. I came back as soon as I…realized. I finally woke up to the truth.” The day Dean showed up was like a light illuminating all the darkness she’d been trapped inside.
A rushing wind swept past, stinging her skin and whipping her tangled hair. Her arms blocked her face from the tempest. The urge to run pulled at her, but she couldn’t move. Did he plan to destroy her? She peeked from between her wrists. A roaring fire streamed around her, consuming her clothing, and the marvelous pack, but surprisingly not harming her flesh. When the flames passed, rain poured down, washing the remaining residue from her body. Water drenched her hair, washed down her face, and over her back.
Then the downpour ceased and everything grew quiet.
Her breath caught in her aching chest. She was afraid all the beauty had been burned away. What would he do next? This was not what she had expected.
A voice called across the waters and pierced her to the core. “Arise, daughter!”
Her whole body trembled. Slowly, she raised her head. The fire had touched nothing. Water, from the rain, glistened over the deep green grass. She began to stand, but realized she was unclothed, and remained crouched, hiding herself, not knowing what to do. When she glanced at her arms and legs, she found her scars were gone. Darnel’s moon and stars insignia on her shoulder was gone as well! Her skin glowed pale and pure like a newborn. The only thing remaining were the two medallions hanging around her neck.
She was alive. He hadn’t destroyed her. He’d healed her!
A satiny cloth slid across her back. Gwynedd helped her to stand, and secured the midnight blue gown with a golden belt.
Her escort kissed both of her cheeks. “Go, he calls for you.”
Alyra started toward the smooth lake. The dazzling light broke apart and danced over the misty surface like dust in a sunbeam. The luminous balls moved faster and faster until all the particles joined once again a short distance from where Alyra stood on the shore. She blinked, shielding her eyes. From within the radiance, a figure of a man stepped out and strolled toward her on the water. As he neared, Alyra couldn’t help but smile.
Issah stopped right before her, now appearing in all his finery and majesty. His white satiny coat reached to his knees and was tied at the waist with a red sash. A golden crown rested upon his head and a necklace of diamond stars hung about his neck. His eyes blazed like fire as he stretched forth his hand.
This time, she accepted his gesture without hesitation.
“Well done, Alyra.” His grip left her no choice but to follow as he led her across the waters. Cool wetness seeped between her bare toes as if she walked on wet silk. Amazed, she peered down to make sure her feet really tread on water. There were no fish or plants below the wavy surface, but rather a bird’s eye-view of forest, towns and valleys of the kingdom. With a startled gasp, she stumbled.
Issah steadied her. “Do you trust me to keep you safe, child?”
“Yes. Yes, I trust you.”
They continued on toward the small island rise where the trees intertwined over the ball of light. Behind the trees, a gossamer curtain hung that shone with all the colors in continuous movement. She remembered now how the curtains created the border to Shaydon’s everlasting Kingdom. Mo and Dean the messenger dwelt in those lands.
The Prince bowed before a pulsating light. “Father, the Sovereign-Strong! True are your ways, O King!”
Alyra could not make out King Shaydon’s features. Yet it wasn’t what she beheld, but rather what she experienced. Compassion. A complete understanding of who she was and all she’d done. Such a love emanated from within, she bowed at Issah’s feet.
The voice of the King rang out again. “Behold, my daughter returns! She was lost, but now she is found. This is a blessed day! Bring forth the celebration.”
Alyra sat up. He wanted to celebrate her return? She’d run away from him. She’d lived in the dark lands as Lord Darnel’s servant. She’d been disobedient to Issah and often downright rude as well. And they wanted to celebrate?
Issah pulled her back up to her feet. “My daughter, all is forgiven and will never be brought up again.”
Fiery words appeared in the branches of the trees, spelling out the deeds she’d done. Even all the deeds she’d helped Darnel accomplish. They did know. Suddenly, the words dissipated like ash caught in a wind.
“As far away as the east is from the west. Your love for others and your desire for what is right has carried you through many trials. And now you have made it back home. Well done, Alyra.” He leaned closer, and whispered into her ear, “You have some who are dear to you. They’ve eagerly awaited your arrival.”
A cheer went up all around her from a crowd of Logorians, creature and people alike lined along the shore. They clapped and cheered, holding their cups in salute.
Still grasping her hand, Issah led her into the throng of the celebration. Her lungs filled with the fragrant smorgasbord of flowers and shrubs growing everywhere. Fountain’s spewed frothy water, pouring down rocks and flowing into the streams. White linen tables were laden with every food imaginable. Soft music played in the background. People laughed, danced, and talked. Many came to congratulate her for standing up to Bezoar and not losing heart on the journey.
Katrina, wearing a glimmering gown of gold fabric, found her first, bounding into her arms and hugging her tight. Issah laughed as she dragged Alyra off to find Jerin and Stitch. She couldn’t bring herself to ask about Lotari, fearing the worst since none had mentioned him yet.
Jerin, dressed in fine military gear, sat with a group of warriors trading stories. Katrina tapped him on the back. He swept Alyra in a bear hug, spinning around in a circle.
“You’re here.” Jerin sat her down and excitedly told her about how he would begin his training soon. “See?” He held the warrior’s medallion. “It slightly different from some of the others, but I really am a warrior.”
Alyra noticed Katrina’s medallion had an open book on it. “What does yours mean, Kat?”
“It means I am one of the Wisdom keepers. It means I will one day return to the Halls of Knowledge and teach.”
“But—”
“Someday. When the time is right. Yes? For now, I will stay here and study at the Academy.”
Jerin put an arm around both girls. “Stitch is waiting for you as well. He’s right over there.”
The young palomino sat with a group of Logorians playing a violin. She had no idea he could play such a beautiful instrument. His eyes were closed and he appeared lost in the song. He looked happy, content, and so clean and well groomed. She hesitated to interrupt.
Katrina leaned closer. “Stitch finds what he hoped. He found a big welcome from the King. He say Shaydon was everything he hoped and more. Yes?”
“Yes, me, too.”
“Go over and speak to him.” A sly smile crossed Jerin’s face. “Go on.”
She headed over to the group and stood just behind Stitch. The bow flew across the strings as he swayed to the harmony. Then as if answering, someone played a sweet melody on the pipes. Tears filled her eyes as she thought it sounded so like Lotari’s favorite instrument. Noticing his servant’s mark was also gone, she gently reached up and touched Stitch’s shoulder as his part ended.
He turned to her with a brilliant toothy smile. “We’ve been waiting for you forever.”
“We who?” She laughed at his exaggeration as he also swept her up in a hug. “I’ve already seen Kat and Jerin.”
“Well, what about him?” He nodded to the one playing the panpipes.
Nearly hidden between the other musicians sat Lotari. Bandages covered his chest, shoulder, and legs where he’d been shot by the many arrows. He looked quite pale, but when he saw her, his eyes brightened and he held out his arms.
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