by Raymond Cain
Chapter Twelve
The interaction between Lycia and Kylara was something Flynn couldn’t ignore. After Kylara refused to elaborate on her comments about the Clutchfeather family, he made an excuse to leave Kylara to finish her shopping alone. He went after Lycia. Leaving someone as volatile as Kylara wandering alone in an unfamiliar city—especially the way she was dressed—did not sit well with him, but he wanted answers and she wasn’t giving him any.
Flynn pushed his way through a throng of people and it was some time before he sighted Lycia. The girl hurried through Lowercity, frequently checking over her shoulder as she went. He lowered his head to avoid being recognized, but he suspected that Kylara was the one she was watching for.
After leaving the Marketplace and crossing the Waterway, Lycia entered the Old Quarter, the oldest part of Seahaven. It was a residential area on the west side of the city and many of the stone structures were inhabited by the same families for over a dozen generations. The houses were simple, but elegantly carved from gray stone. The faces of Seahaven’s earliest inhabitants were sculpted into the walls, columns, and fenceposts. Some of the families’ front yards were littered with statues of distant ancestors.
Built into the cliffs stood a three-story dwelling surrounded by a tall fence crafted from blue steel. Thorny bushes with beautiful flowers grew on both sides of the fence, and the front yard was covered in bright green seagrass. Lycia passed her family ring in front of the fence and a gate swung open.
Judging from the appearance of the home, Flynn suspected the Clutchfeathers were once a large and proud family. The dwelling was larger than any other house in the Old Quarter. The faces of distant ancestors were carved into the walls and columns of the three-story structure, as well as in the cliffs behind them. A score of statues littered the front lawn, many of which were chipped and worn with time. He wondered how many family members lived there currently.
After the gate closed behind Lycia, she walked along a cobblestone path and entered the house through an ornately-carved stone door. Flynn approached the main gate and inspected the lock. It appeared even more sturdy and intricate than the one Tasker built for their own fence.
“Damn,” Flynn said, looking up at the fence dejectedly. It towered over him, nearly doubling his height.
“I could just wait for her to come out again,” he said to himself in a conversational tone, as though there was a chance he might consider that option. After searching for weaknesses in the fence, he noticed significant damage done to the home’s walls and columns, more than what would be expected from the ravages of time. The damaged sections were sealed and filled with stone and mortar. It appeared the house had been attacked at some point in its past.
“But now I’m curious,” he finished, pleased with his excuse to take a closer look.
Flynn spat in his hands and rubbed them on the bars for traction, and he started climbing. The bars were just wide enough to slip his feet through and he managed to push himself up with his legs as he climbed. After a few moments of effort, he pulled himself over the top of the gate and slid down the other side.
The stone path leading up to the front door led between many statues and a tremor passed down Flynn’s spine as he walked past them. He felt as though they were staring at him disapprovingly for trespassing. For a moment, he even thought he heard the scrape of stone against stone, as though one of them turned its head to look at him.
The sounds of people speaking emanated from a nearby window and Flynn crept over to hear them better. He glanced inside and saw a room filled with books. Lycia removed a book from one of the shelves and headed to a stone table. She pushed what appeared to be her sorcery books aside to flip through the one from the bookshelf.
Flynn ducked under the window when Lycia’s grandmother entered the room. The woman was dressed in a purple robe, emblazoned with a picture of the Sorcery Academy on the breast, and her gray hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a red crystal ring, identical to the one Lycia wore, and her posture seemed less stooped than before.
“I see you brought your homework home with you, again,” Ms. Clutchfeather said, gruffly.
“And this discovery is shocking, is it?”
“Don’t you take that tone with me, Lycia. I’ve half a mind to tell the academy you cheated your way in!”
The news was only half-surprising to Flynn. He had his suspicions ever since the unusual behavior of the Altar of Arcane Sight during Lycia’s test on Selection Day. That day, he suspected it was Ms. Clutchfeather that did the spellcasting due to Lycia’s young age. It was illegal to practice magic in Seahaven until you were old enough to attend college, and it hadn’t occurred to him that Lycia was already trained in the magical arts.
“That might be unwise, Grandmother,” Lycia replied. “Considering I cheated using skills you taught me for a decade before our laws allow such instruction.”
Flynn’s eyes widened in disbelief. Not only was Lycia already trained, but she was taught magic since childhood? In centuries past, magic was taught to people of all ages until it was deemed that those below the age of eighteen were considered too immature to wield such power. If it was discovered that Lycia was taught magic at such an early age, her grandmother would be imprisoned for the rest of her life. Just the thought of someone learning magic so young made Flynn cringe. All it would take is one temper tantrum and people might get frozen to death.
“If your impertinence continues,” her grandmother said, sternly, “I may just forget that you are our last hope for continuing the family line.”
“Well, Grandmother, I look forward to the day when I can breed my way back into your good graces.” Lycia’s words dripped with sarcasm.
Ms. Clutchfeather scowled. “Why are you looking through that book anyway? I thought you weren’t interested in our old histories.”
“I just wanted to read about Gideon and Kylara again. Those two were fascinating.”
Ms. Clutchfeather sniffed, derisively. “I suppose. If you find a pair of traitors fascinating.”
Flynn jerked his head back in surprise, inadvertently hitting the stone wall behind him. He winced at the sound it caused, and the pain.
“What was that?” Ms. Clutchfeather said.
“I don’t know. I’ll check it out.”
The sound of footsteps approached the window and Flynn crouched down further. Feeling certain he would be seen if he tried to climb over the gate again, he crept around the house and ran for a section of fence next to the cliffs behind the home. He pushed his way through the thorn bushes to reach the bars, shredding his pants and cutting his legs in the process.
With the agility of a lizard, Flynn climbed up and over the bars and landed in thorn bushes on the other side. The front door opened and Flynn ducked down, stifling a groan as thorns stabbed him in the arms and face. He caught a glimpse of Lycia moving quickly for the front gate and Flynn scurried across the street, ducking into an alley.
It seemed like Flynn ran down every alley in Seahaven by the time he reached The Lift. To his relief, there was no sign of Lycia anywhere. He waited many minutes for the stone platform to descend, glancing over his shoulder nervously the entire time. Two middle-aged women in silk robes waited next to him and when The Lift arrived, the liquid railings surrounding it dropped down to allow them to step on.
An angry, female voice spoke threateningly to the robed women. “Back off, ladies, you’ll have to wait for the next ride. This one’s full.”
Flynn turned to see Lycia behind him and her aquazite wand was in her hand, pointed dangerously at the luxuriously dressed women.
“How dare you,” one of the women said. “Do you know who I am?”
“Yes, I do,” Lycia replied in a monotone voice. “You’re someone who will be frozen solid if you try to get on this platform.”
An icy mist swirled around the tip of Lycia’s wand and the two women backed away with horror-stricken looks on their faces. Lycia spun to face Flynn, offering
him a glare that was even colder than her wand.
“You’re a little young to be practicing magic, aren’t you?” Flynn said, his eyes twinkling.
“Just joined the academy,” Lycia replied, evenly. “And I’m a quick study.”
“If you value your privacy so much,” Flynn said, heading for the edge of the platform. “I can step off too.”
“You can try,” Lycia replied, leveling her wand at him.
The liquid railings rose, enclosing the platform, and The Lift rose. Flynn held onto the top railing with one hand and returned Lycia’s stern gaze with a pleasant smile. He studied her face for some sign of what her intentions were, but she was difficult to read. She gripped her wand tightly but lowered it to her side when The Lift rose.
After a few awkward moments, Lycia finally spoke. “Nice pants.”
The thorn bushes surrounding Lycia’s property left his kempcloth trousers bloody and torn in a dozen places. He pulled out a thorn and winced. “I bought them like that. They’re the latest fashion.”
“Yes, they look great,” she replied in a conversational tone. “Where did your friend go?”
“Kylara? She’s shopping.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen her before. From another city, is she?”
“She sure is,” Flynn replied. He was grinning but Lycia clearly did not appreciate the irony. Her tone and body language put her somewhere between neutral and hostile. He presumed the latter was closer to the truth.
“A city that she helped destroy, perhaps?”
Flynn looked at her, his eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “I don’t. . .”
“Don’t lie to me, Flynn,” Lycia said, raising her wand and pointing it at his nose. A flicker of blue light traveled along the shaft and its tip was enshrouded in cold mist. At the same time, the red crystal ring she wore flickered.
“Your ‘worthless old heirloom’ is glowing,” Flynn said, gaining some leverage in the conversation. He recalled what Theoric told him about crimsonite and he guessed her ring was crafted from the same substance. Perhaps that knowledge would make Lycia back off. “I wonder what it’s made from. Crimsonite, perhaps?”
The ring flared brighter, reflecting Lycia’s anger. “Don’t try to turn this back around at me! I’m not the one who hangs around with traitors.”
“Wait a minute. You’re mad at me because I was with Kylara, not because. . .” he paused, unsure whether Lycia knew he was eavesdropping at her window.
“Not because you were eavesdropping at my window? No. Heck, if I were you, I probably would have done the same thing.”
“Okay then, if she’s a traitor, what did she do?”
Lycia dropped her wand back to her side. “You really don’t know?” she asked, staring at him incredulously. “You really don’t, do you?”
Flynn held out his hands bewilderedly and shook his head no.
“She let the azurans into Deepstone so they could kill our people.”
Chapter Thirteen
It was Flynn’s turn to look incredulous. “Kylara let the azurans into Deepstone? Why?”
“It’s my turn to ask,” Lycia replied. “Why is she still alive?”
Flynn considered holding back information but Lycia seemed to know more about what was going on than he did, and he’d have to be forthcoming to get information out of her. “She’s not still alive, exactly. It’s more like she’s alive again. We found her frozen and Tasker set her free.”
“Oh, that makes sense,” Lycia replied, looking thoughtfully at her feet.
“That explanation makes sense to you?” Flynn asked. “Seriously?”
“I read that an engineer set a trap intended to freeze Gideon and Kylara, and the two of them were caught in it the day Deepstone was overrun. The old histories don’t go into a lot of detail about Kylara, but there is a picture of her and Gideon in there and she looks just like the picture. That’s why I recognized her in the Marketplace. The book says a lot more about Gideon and the way he was loyal to the azurans. He killed some guards and raised a portcullis so the azurans could come in and take over the city. Kylara, his loyal protégé, helped him do it.”
“I don’t like Kylara, but even I can’t see her doing that.”
Lycia looked at him with one raised eyebrow. “How long have you known her?”
Flynn nodded, conceding the point. “Okay but I will still listen to her side of the story before I form an opinion.”
Lycia clenched her jaw but, after a moment of reflection, she nodded in agreement. “I suppose that’s fair. May I join you?”
The suggestion made Flynn cringe. He suspected that putting those two women in the same room would be like bringing a darkcat and an ogre together. Nothing good would come of it. Then again, he did like a good show. “That sounds like a great idea!” he said, smiling. His enthusiasm elicited a skeptical look from Lycia.
When The Lift reached Uppercity, the pair crossed a water bridge and headed up the white stone streets toward the Arcturus home. The vegetation between the buildings and along the cliffs gave the air a sweeter, fruitier smell than the comparatively stale air in Lowercity.
When the path took them by a waterfall, Lycia reached over to drag her fingers through the water. “I haven’t been up here before. It’s nice.”
Flynn nodded and before long, they were outside the Arcturus property. His fence was similar to the one surrounding Lycia’s home, and the memory of the damage done to her property returned to his thoughts. He considered asking her about it, but thought better of it.
When Flynn’s ring came within an arm’s reach of the gate, the steel and aquazite lock popped open. The gate swung open and closed behind them after they stepped through.
A variety of icy weapons were scattered on the lawn and a pair of frozen spears and tridents were nestled in the blue seagrass. Next to the weapons were water golems that appeared to have been smashed apart. The golems were slowly reforming themselves and pulling themselves along the grass, struggling to get back to their fountains.
“You’re in luck,” Flynn said, frowning at the damaged golems. “Kylara is back home already.”
Lycia shook her head in disgust and the pair approached the stone double-doors at the front of the house.
After pushing open one of the doors, Flynn was surprised to find Tasker and Kylara seated in the parlor. The two of them sat together on an inkskin couch, munching away at a tray of snacks on a stone coffee table. The tray contained shrimp, molluscs, and mushrooms, all deep-fried and covered in sweetleaf. A bowl of sea urchin eggs stood off to the side. Kylara’s magekiller armor hung over the back of the couch and her black staves laid on the table next to the food tray.
“Oh good,” Kylara said, leaning back and showing off her figure in the new dress. She sucked bits of food off her fingertips in a way that Flynn found appealing. “You brought the Clutchfeather girl.”
“Oh good,” Lycia replied. “The traitor is here.”
Kylara’s nostrils flared and she glared at Lycia with cold green eyes. She spoke in a deep and dangerous tone, emphasizing each syllable. “Ex-cuse me?”
Flynn placed himself between the two of them. “Okay, ladies, there’s no need. . .”
“You heard me,” Lycia continued, cutting Flynn off in mid-sentence. “I read about you. You and Gideon. And all the people you killed.”
“The ones our city council hired us to kill? Which included the azuran king, by the way. And let’s not forget all the monsters we slew in the tunnels to protect our people.”
“By ‘our people’ I presume you mean the ones that you and Gideon betrayed.”
Kylara scooped up her staves and leapt to her feet. “I DID NOT BETRAY OUR PEOPLE!”
“Okay, okay,” Flynn said, his arms outstretched between the two. He regretted his decision to let the two ladies meet again. “Let’s just calm down.”
The two women glared at each for some time before Lycia sat down on a couch across from the one that Tasker was on. Kyla
ra laid her staves on the table and sat down next to Tasker, who was busily gobbling down shrimp and trying to stay out of the line of fire. Flynn sat next to Lycia.
“If you didn’t betray our people,” Lycia continued, “then why were you frozen?”
“Kurgan and I planned it that way,” Kylara replied. When the others looked at her with confused expressions, she added, “Kurgan Rumbleton, the most gifted engineer in Deepstone.”
Tasker raised an eyebrow when he heard the engineer’s name, then went back to gobbling shrimp.
Lycia snorted. “You planned on getting yourself frozen?”
“Not exactly. Gideon already killed the people manning the portcullis and he raised it as the azuran army approached. The human women and children left through an exit at the back of the city and closed a massive stone door behind them. The azurans wouldn’t be able to open it, but Gideon could. When I told Kurgan this, he prepared a trap for Gideon in case he tried to open the door. It was a hidden, elevated pool of water that would drop and freeze the moment someone stepped under it. I had hoped to lure Gideon into it without getting caught in it myself, but he didn’t fall for it. We fought and I backed up to the right spot, trapping us both in ice.”
“What a convenient story of self-sacrifice you had prepared for us today,” Lycia replied, applauding mockingly. “The more likely explanation is the two of you were working together and you both blundered into the trap unaware.”
Kylara clenched her fists and her face turned red with rage. “And why, exactly, would I betray my own people?”
“Because your master convinced you to, obviously.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Flynn said, interjecting partly out of curiosity and partly because the more the two women talked to each other, the angrier they became. “Why did Gideon betray his own people?”
“You don’t know?” Kylara asked, staring accusingly in Lycia’s direction. “It seems a certain family has been concealing our histories. I wonder why that is.”
“Perhaps it’s because that family wrote those books and they can do what they choose with them.”