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by Zari Reede


  The night of the release, I made meself really small and entered the catacombs beneath Nastere, Liotte’s birth home and estate. The living dead were ominous guards of the crumbling castle. Once it had been a grand fortress, home to the throne of the King of Datters Isle and all provinces known to our people. Before the current king’s great, great grandfather championed the day and freed the people, Liotte’s family ruled. During their reign, the land, tarnished by evil sorcery, was cloaked in darkness. Fear suppressed the inhabitants, but when the crops wilted and famine ensued, the starving people had no choice but to fight for their very lives.

  The princesses came from a long line of power. Their many-great-grandda was an unknown farm boy. You see, any man, who stood up to fight something so dreadful, must be blessed with the powers of our great maker.

  When the great battle ended, the elaborate stone fortress of Nastere was stripped of its glory and wealth, and Liotte’s grandda and much of the royal family were beheaded. Liotte’s own father died in battle. The former farmer, who inherited the kingdom decided Liotte’s family had suffered enough. As a gesture of kindness, Liotte, who was just a babe at the time, was left to live out his life with his mother and grandmother. A bad decision, ’twas. Himself was poisoned by their sorcery and words of hatred for the new king of Rhineguard. Liotte lived beyond most people’s normal life spans. People forgot battles of such significance over time and most importantly, about the former kingdom’s heir.

  When he came for the princess, he spun a glossy that covered his deteriorating flesh, and presented himself as Liotte, a grand master of good incantations and enlightenment for royal youth, born with powers. No one knew of his real identity. Not even me, I’m afraid. By the time we knew, it was too late to save her sanity.

  “You!” Himself brutally poked the back of my neck. His fingernail sliced my skin. As a drop of blood oozed then trickled down my nape, I saw the dead slow, sniff the air, and turn toward us. Himself snapped his fingers and spurred his horse. He spoke over its injured neigh. “Enough! I am your master. I say when and if you dine on flesh!”

  Most of the fiends moved as one, but some seemed more independent, spitting on the ground with insult, when unseen by Himself. Grudgingly, they still obeyed. He poked me again only using his bony knuckles.

  “What lies beyond here?”

  Affecting a querulous voice, I said, “The jostling’s turn me stomach. I can nae tell any which way, topsy-turvy that I am.”

  Himself flipped me upright so quickly that I near did spew. “Don’t think I believe you. Trying to trick me? Don’t fool yourself into thinking you can master me. I underestimated you once. I shall not make that error again. I asked you a question, Brownie.”

  Looking hither and yon, I took me time, though I ken our destination anon. “If we keep the course, at the Cyclops fortress we will arrive.”

  One of the creatures approached Himself and, to my amazement, spoke. “Several journeyed this way--some on horse and some on wagon, but the signs of Rapunzel’s journey are clear. She must have gone in this direction.”

  “How is this possible?” The question popped out before I could stop meself.

  “I have made great strides in my experiments. No longer must I settle on controlling mindless carrion. I strove to trap the soul in a dead body that I could control, but have not achieved that goal yet. I have, however, discovered the ability to entrap demons into flesh.” He gestured to several of the dead, including one who ranged in front of us like a bloodhound. “This one tracks well.”

  “You control demons?” I asked in a small voice.

  Himself threw his head back and cackled. “No one controls demons. But I control the dead and, as long as the demons are trapped there, they do my bidding.”

  I quickly crossed myself thrice and said a small obtestation for Ortharos, my friends on Earth, and Saint William of Shakespeare who taught us of Catholic customs.

  “It is curious that you know not of Rapunzel’s whereabouts. You kept so close all the years I mentored her.” I twitched with discomfort. “Oh yes. I knew of your visits and decided to allow it. As bespelled as the girl was, I knew she would only pass positive words to you.”

  “I ken to look beyond words.”

  “Yes, now I see I should have casted a transformation spell to hide the necessary physical depletions. Rapunzel suffered greatly balancing the tides of energy that surged between our worlds.”

  Himself deserved more than a tongue lashing for his atrocities to my princess and, alas, I could nae dare even that. He was resurrecting demons, the fool.

  “Takes much power, I ken, to contact the spirits let alone draw one and ensorcer it,” I dared say.

  “I had a ready power source from another place, Earth, I believe they call it. I channeled the power through the princess. She bore the pain and controlled the influx to the desired level. I have been curious, I confess, to see what happened since she no longer does. My spell is still active, despite my slumber. Power, I have no lack of.” He cackled wickedly.

  The Blinks! The increases and sporadic nature lay at Himself’s feet--and mine.

  Chapter 37

  The Witch

  I grasped Max’s hand and tossed the lavender-colored clay transport ball to the flagstone floor in my chamber, hoping for success. I had never transported a full-sized being with me before Max hijacked a ride to the council meeting. He was twice my weight and much taller. I hoped the potion was potent enough to make it beyond the walls of the Cyclops outer fortress. Only once before, had I journeyed by spell-imbued transport to visit the queen. Smoke was a side effect of the extra components needed for a longer than normal journey, so when the clay broke open, a great fog filled the chamber. A doorway appeared, and, though blinded by the dark vapors that caused my eyes to squint shut, we crept through it.

  Opening my eyes, I searched for something familiar, but I knew not our location. The dense trees and foliage at the edge of the forest sheltered us. The hem of my cape tangled in brambles. The clinging thorns annoyed me. I lost my footing and Max steadied me against his form. I scowled up at him. We didn’t have time to muck around, and my own emotions were out of proportion with his close proximity. His weight had been too much to make the entire jump and I now gathered we arrived somewhere in between.

  Max made a funny face and stuck out his tongue at me. This I didn’t understand, but moved away from him to explore the terrain farther in the distance.

  “Where are we?” he asked, and I ignored him for a time. I recognized the twin towers in the distance as the stronghold of the Cyclops queen. While my cloak was laden with many potions vital for my defense and attack, our success combating the necromancer hinged on who was best-armed. I couldn’t risk using any potion to complete our journey. We would have to walk.

  “We are a good distance from the castle and will be vulnerable traveling out in the open across that valley, so we will have to walk through the Carpathian forest and brave the Rhonderdacks. It will be a far less brutal death, if we are attacked, than what the necromancer has in store.”

  Max’s eyebrows shot up in question. “What’s a Rhonderdack?”

  “Why do you ask so many questions?” I grumbled. It wasn’t fair that I dump my ill temper on him, but he was dragging me down. I hadn’t intended on piggybacking him on all my transports. “A Rhonderdack is a large, horned beast with grizzly teeth that moves as quick as a potter mouse. It can whip its spike-lined tail to and fro with great strength. The sheer force of one stroke would level a stone wall. Our only defense against it is water. Rhonderdacks can’t swim, hence the moat around the castle,” I explained as I traipsed through the brush. “As I have said, your grand girth has left us miles short of the towers, so we need to get a move on. Stay close behind and don’t dally. I won’t hesitate to leave you,” I warned.

  “Girth! Are you calling me fat?” Max complained.

  I couldn’t quite muffle my chortle. The man’s vanity was injured. He was as hands
ome as an Ortharian god, and most women would give their right hand to bed him, but he was worried I thought him fat.

  I rolled my eyes. “Of all the questions to ask right now, and you wonder if I think you have consumed too many cocoa cakes?”

  “Well, I know what a dinosaur is, so no need to ask about that. I admit the prospect of seeing one is somewhere between thrilling, once-in-a-lifetime, oh-my-God, and I-may-soil-my-pants.” He winked. “We don’t have dinosaurs on Earth anymore, so you see my point?”

  I did not. If I never saw another Rhonderdack, I would be thrilled. Ignoring him, I wound down the path between the rope trees, their barkless, white skin glowing in the early shadows of night. My skin blended to the deep forest foliage along the earthen floor, and Max’s black garb hid his muscular form. For a moment, I pondered the ground beneath me that we Ortharians call earth--Earth, I pondered. Though we shared a similar language, I knew the words were not of our world. It belonged to Shakespeare, who had taught it to Ortharians so long ago. It belonged to Max, Jim, Sammy. It suddenly occurred to me that the language and words used to describe Ortharos were theirs. I decided when things were calm once more, I would meet with the council. The ground I stood on now, in the future, must hereafter be referred to as Ortharos. It needed further pondering at a less distracting time. As we neared the stream that cut through the Carpathian forest, I took note of a few steeds in the distance. There were five riders on massive war horses of whom I could not make out their identity.

  Max scratched at a mosquito bite. “Why don’t we catch up to those dudes and hitch a ride?”

  I slapped at his hand. “Don’t do that, it makes it worse,” I said absentmindedly. “We don’t because those are war horses moving on the Cyclops fortress. Not mine, obviously. The Cyclops tend to use boars, so not a Cyclops party returning home. This leaves the necromancer.” I paced as I went over my options. To attack him on my own was suicide. Events had moved much faster than I thought they would. I had hoped for some breathing room--time to plan before the necromancer attacked.

  My sister must be very important to him, but why? By keeping her in the tower, I had hoped the spell of adoration the necromancer cast would break, either due to time or due to his entrapment and lack of control and power. The spell should have worn off by now. No potion lasted years and with the necromancer trapped and unable to power his spell, her attraction and obedience should have ceased--unless something else powered the spell. The spell held, which meant it was powered by something else other than Liotte.

  The only individual who Rapunzel listened to was Winnalea. I thought my twin’s exposure to that one individual might aid in regaining some of her sanity. Either the rest would return or at least we would be able to free her and have her live amongst us. Alone and trapped, she could neither hurt herself or others, nor return to the necromancer’s domain.

  “If the necromancer is here with an army, then his stronghold is mostly empty. He would not expect such a bold move as an attack.”

  “I don’t like the direction this is going.” Max interjected into my thoughts with weary consternation.

  “We will make a wide circle around and travel to the necromancer’s domain. It will be safer.”

  We hadn’t ventured far when a voice called out, “Stop and leave your valuables or die.” My potion-enhanced eyes picked out not one, not two, but at least five bowmen with notched arrows targeting us. I am fast on my own and I might dare it, except there was Max. I could not transport us both before an arrow pierced one or both of us.

  “He is my vassal and has no gold.” I slowly lifted a pouch tied to my waist. “What I have here should grant us passage.”

  “What’s a vassal?” Max whispered.

  “Hush and we may make it out alive.”

  Brigands often attacked on the borders between the Cyclops and our land. Generally, I would travel as a horse or with an armed entourage, but today I was stuck with the Earth detective.

  “There are few your shade on the island. Methinks I shall gather more gold than that which is in your pouch.”

  The men rushed us and, before I could use a spell or speak, they forced my hands behind my back and divested me of my cloak, spells, and gold. A man with a scarred, pitted face paced before me. Though his body had nary fat, his bicep bulged as he shoved a blade in its sheath. His dark braids swung as he paced, and he wore what I assumed were the spoils of other robberies--a mix of armor, leather, and cloth.

  His mouth curved into a roguish smile. “Very careless of Rhineguard. Letting their princess venture forth attended by only this.” He waved a hand at Max who was equally trussed but red-faced and struggling. “Ransom shall be high, your highness, but I am sure the council will pay.”

  Chapter 38

  Mindy

  When we all gathered our senses and began cleaning the mess in Harry’s kitchen, I sent the prince to the garage to look for a box. It would give him something to do. I planned on taking the bones to the meeting with ISMAT. I needed to warn them guns wouldn’t extinguish demons, but a minimal amount of steady fire would. All agents must carry combustible cartridges at all times. When I helped Harry move the table, I noticed the skeleton’s absence. Drat! Of course it was gone. Its energy source no longer existed, hence something else was back. Unable to contain my excitement, I dropped the table and looked at Harry.

  “Mom, ’Punzel!” I called out. They were somewhere in the house. “Bones are gone which means something or someone is back!” I called out to the others, but my eyes held Harry’s. “Mom, can you check on the prince? He is in the garage.”

  “Oh no.” Harry’s tone rang of dread as he dropped his end of the table.

  “What do you mean, oh no? If the bones are gone, then something else has returned. It could be Jim or Sam!” Though I tried to rein in my optimism, hopeful tears welled in my eyes.

  “It’s just that, when Winnalea disappeared, the bones came in her place. That’s not to say that a human didn’t appear at your place or somewhere else, but with the rapid Blinks taking place, there’s no rhyme or reason to what may appear,” he said in a calm, steady voice, as if lecturing me on quantum physics.

  I nodded that I understood his warning. Hearing a thump, our eyes rounded with surprise, and we rapidly scrutinized our surroundings. I got no farther than the grand ballroom of the old antebellum home, when I noticed a petite man sitting at the baby grand piano. His short, paunchy hands poked at various keys and he smiled in gleeful fascination. His golden-brown hair glistened under the opulent, crystal chandelier. He wore a black velvet smoking robe and nothing else, I surmised by the thatch of brown hair that ran down the center of the gaping V. He swung his gold-slippered feet to and fro at the sound he produced, as he sang the scales.

  “Um, hello,” I called out, using my inside voice. I didn’t want to startle him. In the past, ORBs were known to fly into a frenzy of anger when approached.

  He looked up and smiled. “Oh, well, hello there!” He greeted me with surprise. “Would you be kind enough to tell me where I am? I was in my bedroom, on the divan, reading a fascinating book and enjoying a well-deserved glass of portolus, and...well, here I am.”

  He waved his hands in a flourish. I sighed with relief. He was coherent and petite like Winni.

  “You are in the home of my mom’s friend, Harry Meltzer. New Orleans, Louisiana.” I paused before giving him the shocker. “Planet Earth.” I waited for his surprised reaction. He didn’t flinch.

  “I was afraid of that,” he said, matter-of-factly, looking vexed. “With the increase in Blinks occurring when that crazed princess escaped, I feared there was a connection. No doubt she did this just to spite me.”

  “Who would spite you?” I asked him, tilting my head.

  “Better question is, who are you?” Mom asked from behind me.

  Unbeknownst to me, Mom, Harry, and ’Punzel, ventured forth. The prince, slightly behind them, clung to his box intended for the bones. They crowded the doorway.
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  “He is Sir Reginaldo Fonseca Rolinda of Crap-inth! Excuse me, Corinnth,” ’Punzel finished.

  Aghast, the small, golden-headed man trembled. I wasn’t sure if it was the introduction that set him off or the sheer presence of the fire goddess who insulted him. I assume he knew of the flame-throwing princess.

  “Y--you!” Reginaldo pointed with an accusing finger then stammered and slinked behind the piano.

  Rapunzel laughed throatily. “What’s the matter big, scary councilman? No elders here to back you up? Worried about little ole me?” Her voice rang first with laughter but then turned into a nasty taunt as she neared the baby grand and peered beneath it. I started after her, not needing this Corinnth dude soiling Harry’s floor. We had enough to clean up already.

  “Okay, enough ‘’Punzel. Don’t eat the guest. It’s not polite,” I chided, winking at her to soften the scold. She begrudgingly moved aside and let me pull the shaking man from beneath the piano. “Mom, why don’t you take ’Punzel to the kitchen, and find her something to snack on, while we speak to Reggie.”

  Mom placed her hand on ’Punzel’s elbow and tried to lead her away, but ’Punzel was having none of it.

  “Oh no! I want to hear what this sniveling little liar has to tell you. He is greasy and corrupt! In his land, his family and many others profit from the repression of all gifted Ortharians. He spirits them away from their families to places like Nestere and thinks that they are extinguished! Liotte told me the council funded his school, which has strengthened his power for years. Sir Reginaldo is a distant relative to the realm of power before ours and thinks if he destroys my sister and me, he is next in line for the throne.” ’Punzel paused, glaring at the little man with obvious contempt. “I have news for you, little greedy man of Crap-inth.” Spitting with fury, she squished up her face a hair’s breadth from his. “Liotte has trained me well and when I return to Ortharos, I will take all!” Her index finger poked his hairy chest with each syllable.

 

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