by Dyan Chick
Charles lowered his head in a simple bow. "Thank you, your highness."
The men followed behind me as we walked back into the castle. It felt strange to have them following me, knowing that they'd be doing that every day unless I specifically sent them away.
We sat around a long oval table. Gaius sat in the middle of the table and I was sitting next to him with a document between the two of us. We went through the pages, one at a time. Each page was written in both Illarian and Gallic. The treaty outlined our alliance to each other, the promise of troops to secure my ascendency and transition to the throne, and our promise to support each other in a war on Sardinia once my throne was secured. Master Flanders was on my right and I'd occasionally whisper to him to ask about a word or phrase.
My hands were shaky as they handed me the quill to sign the treaty. I took a deep breath. You can do this. Channeling all of my willpower, I focused on stilling my hand. I dipped the quill in the ink and signed my name. Elisabetta Aqualine. It was the first time I'd signed that name on anything. It made everything seem so real. I handed the quill to my uncle. He dipped it in the ink and signed his name next to mine.
His council members who were present clapped and several of them reached hands across the table to shake my hand. Their smiles were kind and I couldn't help but smile back at them. Inside I was full of doubt. I hope I did the right thing. Of course, you did. Flinching at the voice of the Darkness, I tried to push it away. This wasn't the time for me to act out or let it take the better of me. Stop fighting it. You deserve everything that's coming your way. I took a deep breath. For the first time, I agreed with the voice.
After the treaty was signed, Master Flanders and I walked back to my rooms. It was time to pack up and head home.
"You did well, today," he said.
"Thank you." I let out a sigh. It had been a long journey and I was ready to return to the Raven camp. This time, we wouldn't have to wait for a ship. Since Master Flanders was able to create teleportation coins to the Raven camp, crossing the sea wouldn't be a danger. I was already imagining what it would be like to sleep in my own quarters. The bedroll might not be as comfortable as the plush beds in the Gallic palace, but it was mine.
31
Ashton
The grounds around the castle were nothing but black ashes. Crumbling trees lined the overgrown stone path that led to the front gates. Ashton gripped the sword tighter and took careful steps. His feet sunk into the ashes as he walked, muting the sound. It was eerily quiet. No birdsong, no wind. All he could hear was his heart beat and his shallow breathing.
Celeste walked next to him. Her eyes forward, jaw set in focused concentration. Her hands were extended as they walked, prepared to call on her magic if needed. Ashton wondered if he should be focusing on his magic instead of the heavy sword, but figured it would be easier to drop the sword to call on magic than try to pull the sword from its sheath on his back if he needed it.
The castle was on the smaller side. More of a large house than a proper castle. Though Ashton could see why people called it a castle. It was entirely made of large, gray stones. It was only two stories high but had a tall turret on one side. The front door was the large enough for a rider on horseback to cross through and was constructed of wood and iron.
Despite the damage surrounding the castle, the door and the building itself were untouched. Ashton wondered if that was because Max had left it be or if it was somehow protected by magic. That's when he realized he was getting no sense of magic in the area.
"Celeste," he whispered, even though they were alone. "Do you feel any magic?"
She stopped walking and knitted her brow, frozen for a moment. "No, none at all."
A chill ran down Ashton's spine. Why weren't they feeling any magic? This whole building should be teeming with it. Were they in the wrong place?
"I don't understand," Celeste said. "This feels very wrong. It's like time has stopped."
Ashton knew what she meant. The lack of wind made him feel like they were the only living things for miles. "Stay on guard. We don't know what kind of magic we're up against."
She nodded.
Ashton approached the door and touched the doorknob quickly then pulled his hand away. Nothing. It appeared to be safe. He reached out again, this time turning it. He didn't expect it to open and jumped back when it did.
He glanced at Celeste. She shrugged.
Here goes nothing. He used his foot to push the door all the way open and stared into the entryway. The inside was dark and empty. Looking back at the castle, he realized he couldn't see any windows except for one on the top of the turret. It was going to be dark and cold inside.
"Here," Ashton handed the sword to Celeste. "You take this, I'll make us some fire."
"I don't know how to use a sword," Celeste said, but took it anyway.
"Me neither," Ashton said. "We're making this up as we go."
She gripped the sword with both hands and poked it through the door. Nothing happened.
"We've got to go in," Ashton said. He called to his fire, producing a glowing orb in his hands. "Let's go." Holding his breath, he stepped inside and walked to the center of the foyer. He held up the fireball to look around the room. It was an empty, dark space. The floor and walls were made of the same gray stone as the exterior of the building. On either side of the room was an archway that led away from the room. There were no carpets, tapestries, paintings, no decorations of any kind. It was the most uncomfortable room he had ever stood in. It had the feeling of a dungeon.
"Guess nobody lives here," Celeste whispered.
"Looks that way," Ashton agreed. "Right or left?" He held the fire to each archway.
"Left, maybe? The turret was that direction. Seems as good a place to start as any," Celeste said.
Ashton released the fire ball so it hung suspended in the middle of the room, then made a new one in his hands. He extended his arms, fire in front of him, and walked toward the archway. "Stay focused," he said. "We don't know what he has hiding here."
They walked through the archway and entered another empty stone room. This room had a long, rectangular fireplace that took up a good portion of one wall. There was no wood or ashes or even black marks showing any sign of a fire ever being built in it. "I don't think anybody has ever lived here," Ashton said. His words echoed through the large room and he winced. If something was waiting for them, it knew they were here now.
Ashton released the fireball in his hands to the middle of the room so they could look around. "We should check every room. Just in case it's hidden somewhere."
"Um," Celeste began, "do we even know what the stone looks like?"
"All I know is that they think it's the size of a man's fist and it's yellow. But that could be wrong so be on the look out for anything that looks like it could be magical."
Celeste nodded and walked around the room. After several minutes, they decided the room was just as empty as the entry way and headed through another archway. This took them to a long hallway, just as empty as the other rooms.
"We need to find some stairs," Celeste said. "I think we need to check out that turret."
"Keep your eyes open for anything strange on the way," Ashton said. The lack of magic was making him nervous. He thought he'd have to battle the undead or worse. So far, they'd been completely alone in the empty castle.
After looking through several more empty rooms, they found a door. Ashton's heartbeat quickened and he felt sweat beading on his forehead, despite the cool rooms. So far, all of the rooms had been connected through archways. They stared at the door for a moment, an unspoken tension between them. Ashton let out a long breath then reached for the handle. He pulled it open and stepped back. It was just as quiet as the other rooms had been. Where was the protection from the king? Not that he wanted to be battling the undead or something worse, but the lack of defensive magic on the building was causing his stomach to twist into knots. Every step they took, the fear inside h
im built up.
He floated his fireball inside the doorway to reveal a narrow, twisting staircase. "You wanted to go to the turret?"
Celeste nodded slowly. "Why am I so afraid of those stairs?"
"Probably because the longer we go without meeting a monster, the worse the monsters get inside our heads," Ashton said.
"You first," Celeste gave him a little push.
"You've got the sword," he smirked.
She lifted the sword toward him, hilt first. "You can have it back if it means you'll go first."
He placed his hand on the hilt to lower it. "Have it ready, just in case." Then he turned and headed up the stairs. As he walked, he pulled a new fireball into his hands, leaving the other one floating at the doorway. As soon as Celeste was on the steps, the door swung shut behind them with a slam.
Ashton turned and looked at Celeste, eyes wide. "Did you do that?"
She shook her head.
Ashton looked up the stairs to see a faint glow from above. His breath caught in his chest and he had swallowed. "Be ready."
He took a cautious step up the staircase and had to stop to grip the railing. The tingle of magic filled his whole body at once, overwhelming him. Whatever was up there was powerful. He looked up the stairs to see that the light was growing stronger. He extinguished his flame. It was so bright, he no longer needed the extra light. He reached behind him and Celeste set the sword in his hand. He took a deep breath and continued up the stairs.
The temperature dropped with each step up the winding staircase. Ashton's senses were on overdrive. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest and Celeste's breathing behind him. Every few steps, he paused to listen and stood on his toes to see if he could see the top of the stairs. So far, he had no idea what he was walking toward.
The light got brighter as they climbed and a low buzzing sound filled his ears. He wasn't sure if it was in his head or if it was everywhere. He stopped. "Do you hear that?" he whispered.
"Yes," Celeste's response was barely audible.
Ashton's chest felt tight and his stomach knotted. Something was up there, waiting for them. Whatever it was, it didn't feel the need to attack. It was letting them come to it. He searched his thoughts, trying to figure out what it might be. How should he prepare for what they would find at the top of the stairs? Was it undead soldiers? Was it a monster or some other creature? Maybe it was the Reapers, themselves. A shiver ran through him. What could they do against any of those possibilities?
The end of the stairway was in sight but all they could see was a large door. Ashton looked around, trying to find the source of the light. He couldn't figure out where it was coming from. He clutched the sword tighter and took a deep breath before pushing the door in. The room was dark and at first glance, appeared empty. But as his eyes adjusted he saw the figure standing in the corner. He called on a fireball and lifted it to the center of the room, illuminating the small circular space. A woman stood in the corner, staring at him. She was alone. In front of her was a pedestal with a glowing, yellow rock the size of his fist. The stone of Morare.
Ashton took a step into the room and glanced around as best he could without taking his eyes off of the lone woman. She looked familiar, but he couldn't place her. She smiled at him and he stumbled back, the memories washing over him. He dropped the sword. The woman in front of him was his mother.
32
Ashton
"Ashton," Celeste's voice seemed so far away. Time seemed to have stopped. He stood open-mouthed staring at the woman who used to be his mother. He'd been so young when she was taken from him, her lifeless body being dragged away by Reapers. Her face was burned into his memory. He'd never forget that face. Though he'd never admit it, he often wondered if she was still alive somewhere or if the king had turned her into one of his undead monsters. Ashton could feel the color drain from his face. Despite his musings, he never thought he'd actually see her again.
Ashton's dead mother smiled. "I've missed you."
Shaking his head, he worked to regain his thoughts. She's dead. This isn't real.
"Ashton, what's happening?" Celeste asked.
Ashton bent down and picked up the sword. He held the point out toward his undead mother. "You're dead."
"Do I look dead to you?" she asked.
Ashton narrowed his eyes. He imagined that the undead wouldn't look as alive as she did. "It's impossible. I watched them kill you and take you away."
She took a step toward him. "Are you sure I was dead when they carried me away?" She looked down at her hands then back up at him. "I don't feel dead."
"Ashton," Celeste rested her hand on his shoulder. "It's a trick. You told me yourself, your mother is dead."
"Who's this?" the undead woman asked. "Your girlfriend? They don't tell me much up in this tower."
"How long have you been here?" Ashton asked.
The woman pursed her lips in concentration. "A few years, I think."
"Locked in a tower for years and you don't think you're dead?" Ashton asked. “Have you even eaten anything while you’ve been here?”
"You should know better than anybody that there is magic that we can't explain in this world. I'm assuming you continued your studies? You showed so much promise as a child."
Ashton narrowed his eyes at the woman. Ashton had been ten years old when he accidentally channeled fire. Before that, he'd never even known if he had the ability to channel magic. In the chaos of the years leading up to the Battle of the Dead, Ashton had never been tested. "I don't know what you are, but you're not my mother."
She took a few more steps toward Ashton.
He backed up and gripped the outstretched sword tighter. "Don't make me use this."
She raised her hands up. "There's no need for that. I'd rather you just get me out of here. We can be a family again." She smiled at him.
"I'm just here for the stone." Ashton nodded toward the pedestal in the center of the room. He took a step toward it.
The woman's eyes flashed red. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that." She moved too fast to be human. Before Ashton could react, she had crossed the room and knocked the sword from his hand. Ashton staggered before regaining his balance.
His nostrils flared and he bared his teeth. He'd hesitated, it was a mistake he shouldn't be making. Calling on his fire, he pulled the heat that was rising inside him to his hands. Flames ignited in his palms.
The body that used to be his mother backed up. "So, you can use magic," her lip curled. "When you came in here with a mere sword, I was worried." She rose her hands, green flames shot out of her palms. Ashton pushed Celeste out of the way, then ducked and rolled across the floor to avoid being hit by the fire.
"That's not possible. The undead can't use magic." Ashton stared at the creature for a moment. "You're not undead. You're something else. Some kind of monster."
"I told you, I'm not dead." The creature lifted her hands, palms facing Ashton and launched another round of green fire toward him.
He rolled away, then pushed himself up to standing. This time, he didn't hesitate, and launched a fireball in the direction the monster had last been. The fire hit the wall, leaving a black scorch mark against the gray stone. He glanced around, trying to find where she'd gone. A burst of green caught his eye a moment too late. He moved, but the strange flames caught his upper arm. He cried out in pain and used his opposite hand to beat out the flames. He could smell the singed fabric and burning flesh. Wincing, he lifted his arm to look at the injury. In just a few seconds, the green fire had done enough damage for his arm to respond in angry blisters.
"Ashton!" Celeste cried.
Ashton spun, heart pounding, toward Celeste's voice. She was in a corner and the creature had trapped her. Celeste kicked the sword between the woman's legs and it slid across the floor.
Ashton's mother turned and hesitated. It was as if she was trying to decide which person to attack. She turned her back on Ashton and ignited her green flames.
> Ashton picked up the sword and charged, fighting through the burning pain in his arm. He pushed the sword through his mother's chest. It took more pressure than he thought it would. He screamed in pain as he used all of his strength to push the sword through bone and flesh.
His mother let out an unearthly howl. She stumbled backward and turned, arms outstretched, toward Ashton. The sword was stuck in her back, the point protruding through her chest. Her fingers clawed at the point of the sword and her eyes locked on Ashton. Her gaze was murderous. The creature shuddered, and started to expand. The sword fell from its body as the form shifted from a small woman to a towering figure with flowing black robes. The face was covered with a hood.
Ashton's blood ran cold. He was staring face to face with the biggest Reaper he'd ever seen.
The Reaper lowered its hood, revealing a face that was more skull than flesh. Two empty holes replaced the eyes. Maggots crawled across his skin, going in and out of the holes where his eyes should be.
Was this how all the Reapers looked under their hoods or was this something different? "What are you?"
"You need to learn your history, boy. I'm the keeper of the stone. I am the one they call Morare and I am neither living nor dead."
Ashton thought back to what Master Flanders had told him about the power stones. He'd heard that if they didn't create the stone successfully, the sorcerer casting the spell could be pulled into the stone. "You made the stone?"
Morare moved toward him. "I did. And my Reapers will help the king to bring the Darkness back to Illaria. When it returns, I will be whole again."
The king was already powerful enough with the Reapers and his undead army. How much harder would it be to defeat him with Morare, strength returned, at his side? That couldn't happen. Ashton backed up, feeling with his feet for the fallen sword. Trying to kill the monster had failed, but that was because the monster wasn't alive. His foot felt something other than floor and he risked a glance down. He found it.