by J. B. North
Not a second after he touched me, there was a click, a whistle, and a thud. The bandit landed heavily beside me, his face buried in the leaves and mud, one eye staring blankly.
“Ivy!” said Prince Matthias' voice, rushing toward me and brushing the hair out of my eyes. I stared at his blurry figure, unable to breath.
“Lochlan, come here!”
Another figure appeared from the other side and rolled me over. I winced and tried to suck in a breath of air, but was only met with a stabbing pain.
“She's badly wounded. See the way the blood foams? Punctured lung, I think,” said Sir Lochlan.
“What do we need to do?” Matthias asked.
Sir Lochlan hesitated. “Hold on. Look.” He pulled off the glove that had been cut through with a sword. Slowly, my vision started to clear. The prince and Sir Lochlan both stared at my hand as the flesh grew back over it.
At the same time, my broken nose snapped back into place, bringing tears to my eyes.
Sir Lochlan narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “Hold her down tight,” he said to Prince Matthias.
He grabbed the knife in my back and yanked it out. I jerked violently and sent the prince sprawling.
I rolled onto my hands and knees as I coughed up blood. It became easier to breathe as my lung healed itself. My broken and bruised ribs slowly began to mend. I wiped my face on my glove and tried to stand. Sir Lochlan helped me up while the prince stood and watched in fascination as the fresh, blue bruises that lined my arms and face faded.
“What is this?” he asked in a hushed voice.
“It's the plant,” I replied weakly.
“It healed her,” Sir Lochlan said.
My entire body shook with fatigue as I took a step forward. “We should get back to camp.”
“This way,” said the prince, taking me by the arm and turning us to the right. The few times that I accidentally tripped, he made sure that I didn't fall.
Sir Lochlan watched for any other threats, not even bothering to sheath his bloodied sword. Every now and then he would make us stop to listen, but there was nothing.
The sky lightened as dawn crested over the horizon. When we could finally see the glow from the dying campfires, enough of my strength had returned that I managed to walk by myself. The guards were busying themselves around the site, patrolling, packing up, and cooking breakfast. As we neared, the ones who noticed us eyed my shredded clothing and Lochlan's sword. “Everything all right?” the closest guard called.
“Bandits,” Sir Lochlan said darkly. “It's settled now.”
The flap of a nearby tent opened and Grix peered out, a pillow mark still lined on his face. “Bandits? Did they hurt anyone?”
“Do any of us look hurt?” Sir Lochlan barked as he sulked away.
I raised my eyebrows at Lochlan’s tone, and Grix, looking affronted, ducked back inside without answering.
The prince placed his hand on my elbow and led me to my tent. “See if you can get some rest. We'll be leaving within the hour.”
I nodded and slipped inside, dropping onto the mat. Even though I was exhausted, I could only listen to the activity of the camp. It felt like only a few minutes had passed before Alyss shook my shoulder.
The guards deconstructed my tent quickly. Once it was packed with the other things on the top of the carriage, the prince climbed inside. Sir Lochlan turned back to me, his hand held out to help me inside, but was greeted with a gust of wind in the face as I took off into the sky in phoenix form. I circled over them, ready to get going.
Lochlan raised his hand to the sky and shouted, “Seriously?”
The prince poked his head out and looked up. He muttered something, and Sir Lochlan gave up on me and pulled himself into the carriage, shutting the door behind him.
Relieved that I would be allowed to stay this way, I looked forward. At my height, the ocean was already visible, a blue line that stretched across the horizon as far as the eye could see. Below, the trees and grass gave way to rocks and sand. I closed my eyes as the cold wind rippled through my feathers. My thoughts were clearer in the sky.
The moment of peace couldn’t last long. Before I knew it, Kurt's words about our father rushed back into my mind. He's the painter. He was the person that smeared the blood of prisoners over the walls of the torture chamber. His own son's blood.
I hoped that Kurt was wrong, that the painter just looked like our father. Better to have a dead father who lived an honest life than a living father who abandoned his children to work for King Ciaran.
We traveled for about two hours before I was forced to land. The carriage and horses had stopped at the docks, just past a small village.
The ship was a good size, big enough to hold all of us and our horses. Almost everyone, including Alyss and Grix, went below decks for rest after the early start they’d had. I wanted to sleep, wanted to let it take my troubles away for even the smallest moment, but my mind was still reeling from this morning’s events. Instead, I sat on a barrel and watched the land fade in the distance. It was just a small, dark hill on the horizon when a shadow fell over me. I looked up at Sir Lochlan.
“Can I ask you something?” His eyes dared me to say no.
“Of course,” I answered.
“When you went on the quest for the plant, did anyone...go with you?” He clenched his jaw as he waited for me to reply.
I looked away. “Yes.”
“Where are they now?” he asked.
I glanced up at him, confused as to why he was interested in asking. “One of them, my brother, is in King Ciaran’s dungeon, and the other—” I couldn’t meet his gaze. “The other one died. An allergic reaction to the natives' sleeping draft.”
Sir Lochlan's voice was barely above a whisper when he asked, “What was his name?”
“Roland,” I answered quietly.
There was no reply, but Sir Lochlan's shadow stayed where it was. I looked up at him, and was utterly surprised to see that his eyes were red and watery. He dashed the tears away with the back of his hand, and turned to the ocean so that I wouldn’t be able to see his emotion.
“Roland…Roland was my brother,” he choked out.
-Chapter Seven-
I got to my feet and backed away, struggling to find words.
Sir Lochlan continued. “He wrote me a letter, telling me that he was going on a quest to the Isle of Ginsey. I already knew of his condition, of course.”
“His condition?” I rasped.
“The dark magic that had been planted in his mind by King Ciaran.”
I stared at his ashen face. “You knew about that?”
“I was the only one he ever told. And luckily, I'd heard of a way to cure him. At least, I thought it was luck at the time. I didn't know that the natives would kill him.” After a few seconds, he turned back to me, his normally emotionless eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We’ll be passing through my hometown. My parents and siblings deserve to know what happened.”
I looked up at the white sails, finding it hard to meet his eyes. “Before Roland died, he asked me to pass a message on to his family—that he’d seen what was to come after life and that he's in a place without pain or fear.”
Sir Lochlan formed his lips into a hard line. “He was wrong. There is no afterlife.”
I studied him. “Where do you think we go when we die?”
“We just...end. There is nothing more. There is no after.”
I shook my head. “I can’t believe that. Not after all that I’ve seen.”
“What have you seen?”
I sat back on my hands. “When I went to retrieve the plant, there were four trials that I had to undergo,” I recalled. “In the last, I was in a spiritual realm where angels were fighting demons. When a demon tried to attack me, the most powerful angel protected me and tested my heart to see if I was worthy to continue to the plant.”
“Which you obviously were,” Sir Lochlan said. “But that doesn’t prove anything. It was proba
bly an illusion, like the trials we go through for our second forms or the survival tests that Roland talked about.”
“No, this was different,” I said. “I was able to take the plant, and you can’t take anything out of an illusion.”
He crossed his arms. “You can’t persuade me, and Roland couldn’t either. He’s already tried.”
I pressed my lips closed, irritation choking out my thoughts like dark vines. I slid down from the barrel, but before I turned, Sir Lochlan spoke up. “You can still tell my family what Roland wanted you to say when we reach Redrune tomorrow. You should just know that they probably won’t take it too well, either.”
Tomorrow? So soon? I struggled to keep the bitterness out of my voice as I replied, “Thanks for the warning.”
I walked to the hatch and stepped down the ladder into the darkness below, mind spinning.
All the cots were occupied by guards, most of whom were snoring loudly. Alyss and Grix sat across the room on crates, talking quietly. They looked up as I came down the steps.
I must not have hid my emotion very well because Grix asked, “What's wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. Just a discussion with Sir Lochlan,” I said, trying to keep my voice nonchalant.
“Seems more like you had an argument,” said Grix.
I shrugged. “You can hardly talk to Sir Lochlan without a fight. Anyway, how has your journey been?” I asked, changing the subject.
Alyss glanced up. “I'm not really used to riding horseback.”
“That's an understatement,” Grix added, stretching out his legs slowly, his face scrunched in pain. “We can barely move.”
I blushed, embarrassed that I hadn’t thought of their comfort before now. “I'll ask the prince if you can ride in the carriage next time.”
“Please don't,” said Alyss. “I don't want to be a burden.”
I almost laughed. “You aren’t a burden. And it might give me more chances to fly.”
She looked away, a crease forming between her brows. “I hope you’re right.”
Grix slid his legs back and shifted forward on the crate, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “By the sound of it, you didn’t get too much sleep last night. What did the bandits do to you?”
“Well, they were trying to steal my pendant and my sword. I couldn’t leave without my things…so I took a beating.”
“You had to fight them?” Alyss squeaked. She studied my arms and legs. “I don’t see any marks.”
“They healed before I got to camp. Without the plant, I would’ve died.”
“The plant?” Alyss said, her head tilting to the side.
My mouth hung open wordlessly. I’d forgotten that I hadn’t told them how the plant had affected me.
Grix sat up straight, eyes wide. “The plant of eternal life? You told me you’d burned it in front of the headmaster.”
There was no turning back now. “I-I consumed it by accident on the way here…but not all of it. So I don’t think I’m completely immortal.”
“How did it happen?” Alyss questioned.
Reluctantly, I dove into the story, explaining how the serum had gotten into my system and made its mark on my shoulder, and how it affected me physically in the fight afterward. I left out the part about killing the man. It wasn’t something I was proud of.
Alyss and Grix listened without interrupting, and when I’d finished, they sat for a while longer, speechless. At last, Grix shook his head. “To think I thought I could beat you on your first day at the conservatory. And now you’re the most powerful creature in the world.”
I snorted. “I’m not the most powerful.”
“Then who is?” Alyss asked, thin eyebrows raised. “Who else has a trace of immortality in their blood?”
“There are sorcerers out there who can do some pretty powerful things. Healing themselves could be one of them,” I said.
Grix let out a long whistle. “One thing is for sure—those bandits chose the wrong girl to mess with.”
“To tell the truth, I don’t know what would’ve happened if the prince and Sir Lochlan hadn’t shown up when they did,” I confessed.
I looked toward the cots when a guard snored loudly, then decided to change the subject. “How long do you think it’ll be before the guards let one of us sleep?”
“Some of them have shifts coming up above decks. We’re close to pirate waters, after all,” Grix said.
Alyss whipped her head toward him. “We are?”
Grix gave her a reassuring half smile. “I don’t think they’ll attack us. When they notice the royal crest, they’ll know that they’re no match for our trained fighters.”
“Or they’ll just think we have more valuables,” she mumbled.
Grix’s smile slipped. “Or that.”
“Do you know how long it will be before we reach the shore?” I asked.
“I think I heard someone say it would take six hours,” Grix said.
I sighed in relief. “Good. I’m starting to feel the effects of a sleepless night.”
Luckily, only an hour passed before some of the guards started to pry themselves from the cots and armor back up. I’d begun to doze off, so when Alyss and Grix insisted that I take the first cot available, I was grateful.
How will I tell Roland’s family what happened? I thought as I drifted off. What can I say that would soften the blow?
* * * * *
I slept as much as I could before we had to get off the ship at around noon. When we docked, I made sure that Alyss and Grix got their turn in the carriage and promptly took off into the air afterward. We camped in a field that night, and though I wanted to put the pendant back on to check in on Kurt, there wasn’t one moment that the prince didn’t have someone watching me, whether it be Sir Lochlan, Grix, Alyss, or one of the other guards. I decided it would have to wait for the next day, perhaps after Sir Lochlan and I visited his family.
The next day was much the same, although the trees grew fewer, replaced by rocks and cliffs and the greenest of grass. The sight was spectacular from my vantage point in the clouds.
And then my eyes clapped upon Redrune and my flight faltered.
Statues that were carved into the mountain surrounded the city. Each one, dressed in heavy battle armor, stretched high up into the clouds, their heads barely visible through the mist. I swooped downward to get a closer look when I noticed that the road snaked up a hill to go right through the mouth of one beheaded statue. I shivered.
A shrill whistle sounded from below. The carriage had stopped and Sir Lochlan was waving me down. I dove and shifted form after landing.
Before I was fully restored to first form, Sir Lochlan was already lecturing me. “We're going through the tunnel, and the prince and I agree that you will be a lot safer in the carriage than in the sky. There could be spies in the big city.”
“Okay,” I said. “But I could just ride one of the spare horses.” I strode to a chestnut mare and patted her shoulder.
Sir Lochlan stopped me from swinging myself up with the warning in his tone. “The prince thinks it safer for you to be in the carriage. The tunnels of Redrune are plagued with bandits and beggars. Sometimes they're desperate enough to threaten a large party, like ours.”
I sighed as I stroked the horse's velvety nose. “What about Alyss and Grix?”
“Alyss will stay in the carriage with you and the prince. Grix is going to ride up front with me and half the guard.”
I looked back at the carriage to see Grix already stepping out and walking toward us. Sir Lochlan led the mare away by the halter and passed the reins to Grix, who clambered up, obviously still sore from the last time he rode.
“Are you okay with this?” I asked as the chestnut horse danced a little, testing the experience of her rider.
“Of course,” he said, jaw set. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect the prince and you girls.”
Another guard led a blue roan to Sir Lochlan, who swung up easily in the saddle after gra
bbing the reins.
I watched for a moment as they guided their horses forward toward the tunnel. Only then did I realize that people were streaming out of it, dressed in rags. Desperate people.
And desperate people were dangerous people.
I hurried toward the carriage, where Alyss leaned out the door, her long black hair flowing in the wind as she stared after Grix. I watched her suspiciously. It seemed like the two had grown awfully close. When she heard me approach she ducked back inside, a rosy pink tint blooming on her cheeks.
I climbed up beside her and shut the door, finding myself face to face with Prince Matthias. “I was worried you wouldn't come down,” he said. “Sir Lochlan whistled at least five times before you heard him.”
“I'm sorry,” I said as the carriage jumped forward. “I can fly lower next time.”
The prince waved his hand idly. “It doesn't matter, as long as you make sure to keep an eye on us. Perhaps on cloudy days like this one, you should ride in the carriage.”
I tensed, but nodded anyway. He hadn't taken away my privilege, only limited it.
Prince Matthias turned to Alyss. “What were we talking about before the carriage stopped?”
“The inn in Redrune,” she answered.
I tuned out their conversation as I glanced out the window. It was only seconds before the scenic view of the misty mountains gave way to rocks, and then darkness as we entered the tunnel. The people streamed by the window, dozens of gaunt faces molding into a shadowy blur. I could hear the echo of the rattling carriage and the clopping horse hooves against the hard rock. My heart raced as the echoes gave way to shouting voices up ahead. The carriage slowed. Alyss clutched my hand with her small, cold one, worry creasing her forehead.
I glanced back out the window, straining to see what was ahead, but all I saw were the men, women, and children. Most of them were watching the commotion up ahead with dead, unfeeling expressions. But one little girl, her hair framing her face in greasy brown spirals, stared right at me with pleading blue eyes, a small wooden bowl clutched in hand.