The Last Spell

by J. A. White

  Just when it seemed as though they had left civilization behind and come to the very tip of the world, they arrived at their destination.

  The changes that had taken place since Kara’s previous visit brought a smile to her face: Even in the harshest of climes, life still finds a way. The red shell that covered the area around the castle had cracked in countless places, freeing desert flowers with spiky fronds and narrow geysers of pressurized water. Armored creatures violently slurped from the resultant puddles, while tiny birds with diamond-hard beaks pecked at the shell, digging for food.

  They all scattered at Rattle’s approach. The rustle-foot landed carefully, not wanting to slip, and Kara slid off her back.

  Dolrose Castle loomed before her.

  It was still standing, but just barely—the magic that had kept it from crumbling into pieces was finally beginning to fade. The northernmost tower had collapsed into the sand, and errant sandstone clung to dangling strips in the red shell like scabs in need of removal.

  Kara started toward the castle and Rattle nudged her gently back.

  Don’t.

  “What is it?”

  Inside big red house. Smell foul like death.

  “There was a great tragedy here,” Kara said. “Many died. It’s to be expected.”

  No. Not dead death. Living death.

  “The faenix,” Kara muttered.

  She reached out with her wexari senses, listening to the sounds of the hidden world just as Mary Kettle had taught her. At first she caught the thoughts of the armored creatures, bored of water and eager to taste the liquid gushing through the veins of these new arrivals. After building a quick mind-bridge and putting these ambitions to rest, Kara focused on the ruins. Inside the castle she sensed only a single presence, but nestled inside this one mind, like spiders in an egg sac, were thousands of voices, each a slightly different variation on the original. They all shared the same thought, a magically implanted command that was even more important than eating or breathing.

  Protect the chest. Protect the chest. Protect the chest.

  “What do you hear?” Lucas asked, noticing Kara’s bone-white face.

  “There’s only one creature inside the castle, but there’s also enough of it to fill the entire world.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Grace asked. “I’m not judging. Just curious.”

  “I don’t really understand what I’m hearing, to be honest.”

  “It’s a monster,” Grace said, stifling a yawn. “Isn’t that your area of expertise? Just order it to come out here and drop the chest at your feet. Maybe you can give it a treat and a little pat on the head.”

  Taff burst out laughing.

  “What?” he asked in reaction to Kara’s displeased expression. “That was funny.”

  “I can’t just control any creature I want,” Kara told Grace. “Unlike using a grimoire, it requires a certain amount of skill and craft. And whatever is inside that castle might be too powerful for me. I’m not sure how we should proceed.”

  “Distract it,” Grace said. “You use magic. Lucas uses his bow. And while the faenix is busy with you two, the whelp steals the grim.”

  “That’s actually a pretty good plan,” Taff said.

  Grace curtsied.

  Kara didn’t savor the idea of sending Taff anywhere near the faenix, but she didn’t like the idea of being apart from him, either. Since Taff had carved his name into the Lower Door, Kara hadn’t let him out of her sight. For all she knew, Querin could be watching them right now, waiting for her to leave Taff alone.

  If Querin comes for Taff while I’m inside the castle I won’t be able to protect him. At least if we go with Grace’s plan we’ll stay together.

  As was often the case, Kara’s decision came down to figuring out which was the lesser of two evils.

  “All right,” Kara said. “Let’s try it.”

  “What about you, Grace?” Lucas asked. “What’s your contribution to this brilliant plan?”

  “I’m going to stay behind and watch Rattle,” Grace said. “Imagine if something terrible happened to her! We’d be stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no way to get home!”

  The logic seemed reasonable enough, but the words sounded vaguely threatening coming from Grace’s mouth, as though she were the one planning to hurt Rattle. That wouldn’t make any sense, though, Kara thought. Then she’d be stuck here too. Still, Grace’s motives were as difficult to discern as a black cat at night, and Kara was suddenly nervous leaving the rustle-foot alone.

  Lucas was right. It would have been safer to leave Grace behind.

  Safer, yes—but could Kara have really done it? She has no one else in the world. If I abandon her, what kind of person does that make me? On the other hand, was the distant possibility of bringing her enemy back into the light worth endangering the lives of Lucas and her brother? Not everyone wants to be saved, Lucas had said. If that was true—and Kara wasn’t convinced it was—then cutting ties with Grace was the obvious decision, the easy decision.

  That didn’t make it right.

  Allowing Grace to come with us might turn out to be a terrible mistake, Kara thought, but it was still the right choice.

  Nevertheless, she told the sharp-beaked birds to keep an eye on Rattle and make sure that the blue-eyed girl behaved herself. A little caution had never hurt anyone.

  In its prime, Dolrose Castle must have been truly amazing. The arches leading from one massive hall to the next were filigreed with gold. Marble fountains stood in the center of each room. Bejeweled walls refracted the sun’s rays into dazzling mosaics of color on the floor. Now, though, arches and fountains were covered with the same hard shell as the exterior walls, and the sunlight that made its way into the castle was filtered red. It was like seeing the world through the prism of a ruby.

  The shell covering the stone floor had been broken into shards that crunched beneath their feet like crushed ice. Kara’s hopes of taking the faenix by surprise quickly faded.

  “What is this stuff anyway?” Taff asked, picking up a shard. Though it was as thin as a sheet of paper he was unable to break it between his hands. “Tougher than it looks. Like ice, only it’s not cold.”

  “Must have been one of Evangeline’s spells,” Kara said.

  “Guess she didn’t like being a princess,” said Lucas. “Doesn’t make sense to me. If I grew up in a place like this, I’d be pretty happy.”

  “You can’t know that for sure,” said Kara. “You didn’t grow up in a place like this.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “I grew up a slave risking his life every day burning poisonous plants.” Smiling slightly, he indicated their once lavish surroundings. “This seems better.”

  Kara, ready to debate the point, couldn’t help but smile in return. Lucas had a sneaky sense of humor, peeking out at the most serious of moments. She had missed it.

  “No one answered my question,” Taff said, still brandishing the red shard. “What is this made of? Why this specific spell? Evangeline could have just burned the castle down to the ground if she hated it that much.”

  “I don’t know if it was even Evangeline’s choice,” Kara said. “The grimoire must have been controlling her completely at the end.”

  “How could it, though?” Lucas asked. “If what Sordyr said was the truth, and the grimoire was just a harmless plaything—”

  “Sordyr wouldn’t lie,” Kara said, surprised at how defensive she felt on his behalf. “He never meant for any of this to happen.”

  “Fine,” Lucas said. “But there’s no denying that grimoires exert an evil influence. If Sordyr didn’t make them that way, it must have been the princess. Which means she was in control until the very end.”

  “I guess,” Kara said, though she still had trouble believing that it was true. How had Minoth and King Penta described the girl? Cute little thing? The apple of her parents’ eye? She looked around at the ruins of the castle.

  Could she have really done a
ll this?

  “What about Rygoth?” Taff asked. “She was the king’s adviser at the time. I’m sure she was involved somehow.”

  “Maybe she’s the one who destroyed the castle,” Lucas said.

  “Rygoth hated Minoth,” said Taff, nodding his head in agreement. “And the Last Spell transformed Phadeen, his pride and joy, into the Well of Witches. Plus Rygoth is a lot more powerful than some princess. It makes sense.”

  “No,” said Kara. “This was definitely the work of the princess and the Vulkera—Minoth Dravania said as much. Plus Rygoth is vain beyond all measure. If this was her doing she would’ve bragged about it by now.”

  That doesn’t mean she’s not involved, though. Could she have taken over the princess’s mind and forced her to do all these things?

  “Where are all the people?” Taff asked. “The bodies, I mean—or the bones, at this point.”

  “Lord Gareth probably sent them to safety once he knew how dangerous his daughter had become,” Kara said.

  She didn’t think Taff believed her, but it was a nice story.

  They entered the throne room.

  It was surprisingly simple. The thrones, if indeed they could be called that, were little more than fancy wooden chairs. Stools had been set out so that those who requested an audience with Lord Gareth could sit comfortably. Kara was left with the impression of a leader who exerted his authority by the quality of his rule, not force or wealth.

  “Where are these scratches from?” Lucas asked, running his finger along deep grooves in the stone floor. “I saw a bunch of them outside too.”

  “It looks like someone was dragging something,” Taff said.

  On the far side of the room, a large shape darted between two wooden posts and vanished into the shadows.

  Kara didn’t ask if the two boys had seen it. Lucas already had an arrow notched to his bow. Taff’s slingshot was pulled back.

  They had seen it.

  “Hello,” Kara said, reaching out with her powers. To build a mind-bridge, she first needed to learn what the creature wanted; she could then build a link with it using corresponding memories from her own experience. All of the faenix’s thoughts, however, were buried beneath the one command magically grafted into its mind: Protect the chest.

  “We don’t want to hurt you,” Kara said, slowly making her way closer to the shadowy corner where the faenix had vanished.

  Deep with the darkness, something moved.

  “Kara,” Lucas whispered.

  She put one finger to her lips while indicating, with her other hand, that he and Taff should stay put. Kara sent the faenix images of water rippling along a peaceful pond, hoping to calm it.

  I know your job is guarding the chest, she told the creature. And you’ve done it faithfully for a long, long time now. But your responsibility was to keep what’s inside the chest from bad people, not from us. We’re here to—

  The faenix leaped out of the shadows.

  Its entire body was covered with black-and-red scales save three chicken legs that ended in razor-sharp talons. Kara fell backward in surprise and enormous yellow eyes tracked her, blinking rapidly with two pairs of eyelids—from top to bottom, left to right.

  Lucas whispered, “I don’t think this one is listening to you.”

  “Just give me a little more—”

  The faenix threw back its head and screeched. A sound like metal scraping against metal reverberated throughout the throne room as the creature rushed her, red claws extended.

  Kara heard a thwack and Lucas’s glorb-powered arrow passed through the creature’s chest, clacking against the wall behind it.

  The faenix fell to the ground and stopped moving.

  “You hurt?” Lucas asked Kara, helping her to her feet.

  She shook her head. “Nice shot.”

  “I’ve been practicing,” Lucas replied. “Still, after everything you said I thought it would be harder than that.”

  “Me too,” Kara admitted. “But I’m not complaining. Now all we have to do is find the grim. If this thing was guarding it, you figure it has to be close.”

  “Found it!” Taff exclaimed.

  He pointed directly at the fallen faenix. For a moment Kara didn’t understand what he meant. But then, looking closer, she saw the red corner of the chest, seemingly poking out of the creature itself.

  “It has a pouch in its stomach,” Taff said. “I’ve heard of animals who carry their young around like that so they can protect them. Only this one carries around a red chest. So weird!”

  Lucas stepped closer to the faenix.

  “Wait,” Kara said. She still heard a chorus of thoughts emanating from the motionless body before her. But how could that be? The arrow had passed right through its heart.

  “It’s dead,” Lucas said. “Right?”

  “Yes,” Kara said. “No. I’m not sure.”

  “Thanks for clearing that up,” Lucas replied, smiling nervously. “Okay, then. I guess there’s only one way to—”

  The faenix shuddered violently.

  “Not dead!” Taff shouted, pulling Lucas back. “Not dead!”

  The beast’s yellow eyes sank into its body with a sucking sound and its chicken legs shriveled into dust. The seams between its scales vanished as the separate plates joined together, covering every inch of the body. Within moments, the faenix had vanished completely, leaving behind a speckled red egg.

  It hatched.

  This wasn’t a slow process—the steady pecking away of an unsure beak trying to find its mother—but an eruption of life, shell fragments exploding everywhere as a new, fully grown creature sprang forth into the world. It was twice the size of its predecessor, with the same black and red scales but a fiercer demeanor.

  Lucas fired an arrow. It bounced ineffectually off the faenix’s chest.

  Its scales have changed, Kara thought. They’re as hard as armor now.

  The faenix opened its beak, revealing rows of new fangs, and charged. Kara dove out of the way as it swung its talon at her. Taff screamed “Over here!” while firing with his slingshot. Ping, ping, ping! The invisible projectiles didn’t seem to hurt the faenix, but they got its attention. Leaving Kara behind for now, it galloped in a lurching quickstep toward Taff.

  Lucas took careful aim and shot an arrow through its eye. The faenix collapsed.

  Kara wondered how long its death would last this time.

  “Get the chest!” she shouted. “Quick!”

  Lucas was closest, but by the time he reached the faenix its shell had begun to harden into an egg again. He tried to pierce it with arrows but the shell was impenetrable.

  It hatched even quicker than the first one.

  The faenix that emerged took some time to unfold itself. This version towered over the children—though it retained the same chicken legs, looking somewhat ridiculous supporting its now-monstrous frame—and had grown steel plates for eyes. The creature tottered unsteadily, still groggy with birth, and the children used this opportunity to sprint out of the throne room and into the main hall.

  “This way!” Taff exclaimed, leading them through a smaller archway on their right. “It’s too big to fit through here.”

  There were no windows in this part of the castle. Although a little light slipped through the cracks in the edifice, the passageway that stretched before them vanished into darkness. She could hear the faenix in the main hall, shards cracking beneath its newfound weight. It was looking for them. From this angle, Kara could see only its disproportionately thin legs and the curl of a new, snakelike tail.

  The children backed away, keeping their eyes on the beast. They spoke in whispers.

  “I saw some pretty strange monsters when I was a Clearer,” Lucas said, inadvertently touching the stumps of his two fingers. “But I’ve never seen anything like that before. Can someone explain—”

  “Each time it dies, it’s born again as a better version,” Kara said. “It learns from its mistakes. Adapts. You can’t
kill it the same way twice.”

  “That’s hardly fair,” Taff said.

  “Then how do you kill it?” Lucas asked.

  Kara shrugged. “I don’t know if you can.”

  An undefeatable foe, the perfect guardian for the grim, Kara thought. That’s why I heard so many voices when I tried to build a mind-bridge. Within this strange creature are thousands of possible lives, ready to be called into existence when needed.

  The corridor crooked to the right into even deeper darkness. They followed it, holding their hands outward to protect themselves from walking face-first into an unseen obstacle.

  It was colder in this area of the castle. Kara’s teeth began to chatter involuntarily.

  “Hold on,” said Lucas, digging in his rucksack as they backed cautiously away from the doorway. He pulled out a glass lantern filled with water, unscrewed a tiny knob in its lid, and dropped what looked like a tiny tapioca pearl through the hole. As the glorb dissolved the water began to swirl light, casting the corridor in an eerie blue glow that revealed hundreds of deep gouges in the floor, identical to the ones that Lucas had found in the throne room.

  “I think I liked it better when we couldn’t see,” Taff said.

  As Kara bent down to examine the gouges more closely she heard a mad hiss of frustration and the crash of a large body against the stone archway. Again. And again. The walls of the corridor shook with each impact.

  “We need to keep moving,” Lucas said. “We’re trapped if that thing finds a way through.”

  They ran down the corridor, the sounds growing more distant and then suddenly stopping altogether, plunging the castle into an eerie silence. The floor sloped downward and emptied into a ballroom with a domed glass ceiling. The sand that had collected on the exterior of the glass blocked much of the sunlight, but the ballroom was still bright enough to reveal hundreds of red blocks standing upright on the floor like giant dominoes.

  “What are they?” Taff asked nervously.

  The blocks varied in height. Some were shorter than Taff, others rose taller than Kara. All were semitransparent, with shadowy shapes within them.

  “Stay here,” Kara told Taff. “Let me see what this is first.”