by Joshua Khan
“I’m sorry, Sa’if. I tried to save you, but I wasn’t good enough,” said K’leef, his heart breaking as well as his voice.
The ghost of Sa’if shook his head. “No one could have saved me, K’leef. My magic failed me.”
“Why?” blurted Lily. She hadn’t intended to speak, but she couldn’t help herself. “It should have been as natural as breathing.”
The ghost sighed. “That is a puzzle for the living. It matters not to me.”
K’leef’s fingers passed through the ghost. “Where are you, Sa’if? What do you see?”
The ghost smiled. “Don’t worry for me, Brother. I stand at a quiet beach. Waves are lapping against my ankles, and there is a boat not far away. I shall swim to it, and then? I’ll let the current decide.”
K’leef sobbed.
“There is a warm sun, but the breeze is cool. I could linger, but in the wind I hear our father’s voice calling for me. He whispers your name, too, K’leef. We are all proud of you.”
The ghost stepped closer, and his pale, immaterial fingers cupped K’leef’s wet cheeks as the ghost looked deep into his eyes. “You would make a good sultan. Kindness is underrated, yet it is the thing we need most. Be just, be brave, and be loyal to those who love you, Brother. But most of all, follow the counsel of your own heart.”
“No, Sa’if. Stay a while longer. Just a moment.”
The ghost turned to Lily. “There are no lies on this side of the pyre, so I tell you a truth that cannot be questioned, or doubted. My brother has the potential to save our kingdom, with your help.”
“Of course I’ll help him. Any way I can.”
The ghost kissed her forehead. “Bless you, Lady Shadow. For all you have done, for all you will do.”
The coldness of his lips burned her skin. She felt a surge of…joy, freedom, and love so pure, so bright, she thought she might burst.
But now just the wind moved the branches.
Sa’if was gone.
TWELVE
“I thought Jambiya had summoned a demon,” said Thorn, scratching his hand, trying to reach that itch under the bandage. “Never seen anything like it.”
“K’leef said to leave your hand alone,” said Lily, sitting at her dressing table. “Does it still hurt?”
Hurt? The pain had been worse than anything he could have imagined. But K’leef’s physician had worked wonders. Thorn flexed his fingers. “It’s getting better.”
“Then leave it alone.”
He couldn’t. He drew his bow with this hand, and the fingers and thumb were all stiff. He was constantly testing, hoping to feel the old flexibility that meant each arrow would fly true. What if it didn’t come back? What if it healed, but healed wrong?
What if he couldn’t shoot?
A soft knock interrupted them.
“Come in,” said Lily.
It was K’leef. “The funeral’s tomorrow,” he announced somberly.
Lily got up and took K’leef’s hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you, for letting me say good-bye to him.” K’leef sniffed.
Lily had told Thorn about summoning Sa’if’s ghost. It made perfect sense that she would. She was Lilith Shadow, and ghosts were as common to her day as horse manure was to his.
And K’leef looked…better. Less lost and afraid. Lily hadn’t told Thorn what they’d spoken about, and it wasn’t any of his business, but whatever the ghost had said had changed his fiery friend.
Thorn cleared his throat. “K’leef, I’m sorry, too. For Sa’if, and what I called you. You ain’t no coward.”
K’leef nodded, obviously moved.
“You’re still a fool, though,” Thorn went on. “Taking on Jambiya.”
“It’s not like I want to.” K’leef sat down and pulled at the ends of his turban. “What choice did I have? It was either that or watch you go up in smoke.”
Thorn went to the window. The docks were just a few miles down the slope. “I’ve got a brilliant plan for how we can avoid all this.”
“Is it as brilliant as your plan to save those four from the tower?” asked Lily.
“I saved ’em, didn’t I? So the plan worked. Anyways, about this…problem. Face it, Jambiya’s after me, ain’t he? So I’ll just run.”
Lily rubbed her temples. “This I have to hear.”
“I can sneak off easily. Look, we’re leaving, right? First things first, we’ve gotta get your crates back on board the Shadow’s Blade, and that means we need the zombies.”
“Oh, dear…” said Lily.
Thorn grinned. “All I need is a bag of raw, fresh offal from the local butcher. As smelly as you can get. I’ll shove a handful down my shirt, wrap some runny guts around my neck, then just join Eddie and the rest, moaning and shuffling down the hill. We get on board, and we set sail. Problem solved.”
Lily stared at him. Probably struck speechless by his cleverness. He pointed at the ship. “We could be gone within the hour.”
Lily handed him a jug of sherbert. “Drink this. Your brain’s overheating.”
He should have known she wouldn’t get it. “K’leef?”
“No,” said K’leef. “I’ve challenged Jambiya for the crown. I can’t back out now, whether you’re here or not. It’s—”
Thorn jumped forward, hands out. “Don’t say it!”
“—a matter of honor.”
Thorn groaned. “Your honor’s gonna get you killed. Likely in the next day or two.”
“So it will be a trial by fire?” asked Lily.
“I’m afraid so.” K’leef sighed.
“Do you know what the challenge is?” asked Thorn. “Something suicidal, I bet.”
“They’re about to decide, but that’s why I’m here. The challenger is allowed two companions.”
Thorn stood by his friend. “Seems as I’m the one who got you into this mess, I’d better help get you out of it. You’ll need someone with a bit of sense in this trial by stupid.”
“Trial by fire,” said K’leef.
“Whatever.”
K’leef arched his eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want to take a minute to think about it?”
“Why? If I do that, I might change my mind.” He looked back out the window at the empty blue sky. “Be easier if Hades was here, though.”
“Still not back?” asked Lily.
He shook his head. Hades didn’t know the area. He must have flown over the horizon and gotten himself lost. Though how you could lose sight of a smoking volcano, Thorn had no idea.
Lily volunteered, too. “Of course I’ll help. Whatever you need, K’leef.”
“No women, I’m sorry,” said K’leef.
Lily frowned. “That’s ridiculous. I—”
Before she could go on, K’leef said, “No argument there. But I’ve already got the second companion.”
“Who?” asked Lily.
The door opened.
Thorn’s heart dropped to his toes. “I’ve changed my mind.”
Gabriel walked in. He looked from K’leef to Thorn to Lily, then back to K’leef. “You told them yet?”
THIRTEEN
Thorn picked up the bow and examined it. Instead of a single six-foot length of yew, like the ones back home, this was savagely curved, short, and made of various woods glued together. Composite—that’s what K’leef had called it.
The Djinnic warriors used them on horseback, hence the size. No way could you sit in a saddle and shoot a longbow.
He pulled the string and let it twang.
He collected three arrows.
His draw hand felt stiff, thanks to the blisters and the bandages. It still itched like beetles were crawling under his skin.
Start easy. A hundred paces.
The target, a straw figure hanging from a hook, had a red circle painted on its chest and a smaller one on its face.
He checked to make sure he was alone in the courtyard.
And loosed.
The arrow passed a foot to the
right of the body and thumped into the doorpost.
Thorn stared.
I missed! I missed by miles.
He hadn’t missed a target in…since ever.
His heart was racing, and he felt sweat spread over his palms. No, that was no good. Strange bow, hand injured. What did he expect? That was why he was out here, wasn’t it? To check the damage. And practice and practice and practice.
That’s all it took. Plenty of people at Castle Gloom thought his skill with the bow was magic, a faint green magic inherited from antler-headed Herne, lord of the forest.
Why was it that if you could do something a little special, everyone thought it had to be magic? That all gifts came from the Six Princes? It irritated him. He didn’t owe those ancient sorcerers anything. You aren’t born an archer. You become one by shooting thousands of arrows.
Lily was lucky. Sorcery was her birthright; it couldn’t be taken away.
He looked at his hand. The skin was still raw, wrinkled and red, but he could move all his fingers and, most importantly, his thumb, just like always. He shook himself out, from his head down to his toes.
Take your time.
He licked the fletching and, with a slow, strong inhale, drew the bowstring back a second time.
The arrow flew a foot wide to the left and cracked against the bare stone.
Had Jambiya destroyed him? K’leef had said his hand would soon be back to normal, but it wasn’t! He clenched it into a fist, as tight as he could make it. He needed it to work like before. He spat on his palms and rubbed them together. He fidgeted with the bow, feeling for the perfect hold, and took the third arrow.
Okay, pretend you’re back in Herne’s Forest, out on your favorite trail. The one that goes by Dryad’s Pond. There’s the big oak you climbed every day of your tenth summer. Remember the big grain sack you tied to the bough, and the hundreds of arrows you shot that day? Not one of ’em missed.
That’s where you are. This ain’t no different.
He took ten paces closer. Perhaps the new bow didn’t have the range of the longbows back home.
He cursed himself. That’s right, blame the bow. You know there’s nothing wrong with the bow. It’s your aim that’s off.
He loosed.
The arrow sailed over the wall.
“No!” Thorn smashed the bow against the ground. He hit it again and again until there was nothing left but splinters. He stared at his bleeding hands, pierced by the broken wood. He didn’t care now. What good were they if he couldn’t shoot?
“I heard the folk of Herne’s Forest were famed for their archery. Seems I was wrong.”
He whipped around. Someone had seen! “You?”
It was the mango girl from the ship. She sat on the low wall, picking her nails. “Me.”
“What are you doing here?”
She jumped down and casually kicked the broken pieces of bow aside. She looked at the target. “It’s pretty big. How come you missed?”
“What do you know about it? Look, get lost before some guard sees you and gives you a whipping.”
The girl snorted. “I can come and go as I please.”
“You still owe me a crown.”
“You ate the mango. Money’s spent.”
There was something else that wasn’t right. Her two gold caps were missing, revealing perfectly white teeth, and her clothes, while plain, were good quality.
“Who are you?” Thorn asked.
The far door swung open, and Lily appeared. “Thorn! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! They’re gathering in the Fire Hall. They’re about to decide the trial.” She stopped as she saw the mango girl. “What’s going on?”
“This wharf rat robbed me of a crown,” said Thorn. “All I got for it was a mango.”
Lily shook her head. “You must be mistaken. This is Kali, the Djinn executioner.”
“What?” he exclaimed.
The girl, this Kali, smiled at him in a way he didn’t like; there was contempt in her dark eyes. “They said you were someone to be feared, Thorn.”
“You were spying on me, weren’t you? That whole mango thing—that was just so you could get on board and have a sniff around.”
Kali shrugged. “I’d heard you were fond of mangoes.” She bowed to Lily. “M’lady.”
They watched her leave, and then Lily turned to him. “Don’t let her get to you, Thorn. She is a tricky one, I’ll admit, but—”
“I can’t help with K’leef’s trial, Lily!” Thorn cried. “I’m useless. Less than useless.” He kicked the remains of the bow. “I can’t shoot.”
“Of course you can shoot. You’re amazing!”
“I ain’t!”
“Your hand is hurt. It might take a while to heal.”
He shook his head. “And what if it don’t? Then what use am I?”
“You think it’s your archery that matters?” She frowned. “Thorn, that’s never been true. Ever.”
“But it’s all I’m good at.”
She cupped his face in her hands. “I’m counting on you, Thorn.”
“Counting on me? For what?” He still felt hopeless, but he did like her hands on his cheeks.
She stepped back, biting her lip. “I don’t know where to begin. But Sa’if’s death seems…odd.”
“That’s not the word I would have used.”
“Did you get a good look at K’leef’s hands?” she asked.
“Nope. You were holding them.”
Lily smiled to herself. “They’re so soft and gentle, Thorn. And he has the long fingers of an artist….”
“I get it. He has soft hands.” Did girls really care about that sort of thing? His were as rough as bark.
“But they weren’t burned after he handled the lava crown. He’s a sorcerer, and his magic automatically kicked in to protect him.”
“So?”
“Sa’if was a sorcerer, too. Then why didn’t his magic save him?”
“I don’t know….”
“Me, neither. It’s a mystery.”
“Uh-oh. You have that look, Lily.”
“I don’t have any ‘look.’”
“Yes, you do.” He raised his nose, pretending to be aloof. “A mystery. Strange magic at work. Secrets. You’re a princess of darkness, but you can’t stand things staying in the dark. You’ve got to shine that big brain of yours onto it. No matter what it exposes.”
“As if you’re any different.”
“Me?” Thorn prodded his chest. “I mind my own business!”
“Ha! It’s a miracle your nose hasn’t been snapped off, the way you stick it into other people’s affairs! Remember how your hand got burned?”
“All I’m saying is, don’t turn the world on its head while I’m away,” said Thorn. “Just leave things as you found them. K’leef won’t thank you for it if he comes back from the trial all glorious and stuff and finds the city a smoking ruin.”
“Is this your clumsy way of saying good-bye? By having us argue?”
“I wasn’t arguing.”
“I think you—All right. No one here is arguing about anything. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Thorn looked back toward the palace. “So, you’ll be staying put, then?”
“Yes. Waiting patiently for you to return, the triumphant hero. Perhaps I’ll take up embroidery again. And do some…reading.”
“Lily…”
She grinned. “K’leef has some books about magic. You should see them, Thorn. All engraved on bronze pages, so thin, but very beautiful.”
“Bronze?”
“We’re in the kingdom of fire, Thorn. Paper spell books don’t last long here. The library has burned down four times. Anyway, there’s some research I want to do, old legends I want to look into.”
“And you read Djinnic, don’t you?” He shook his head. “You’re so sharp, be careful you don’t cut yourself.”
Lily took his hand. “Let’s go. It’s time for the challenge to be announced.”
FOU
RTEEN
Lily wished she were home. Now more than ever. She wasn’t made for traveling. With the passage of time her homesickness got worse, not better.
Thorn, on the other hand, was at home wherever he planted his boots. He made friends just by turning up. How did he do that?
This felt very different from the coronation. The air lay heavy in the corridors, and many of the windows were veiled, adding to the somber mood. Lily slowed down as they neared the throne room, where everyone else was gathered.
“I want you to reconsider our arrangement,” said Lily.
Thorn grimaced. “We ain’t got an arrangement.”
“That’s why I want you to reconsider it. Now, Thorn.”
“Forget it. No way are you turning me into a zombie.”
Lily stood over him, which was easy, since she now had four inches on him. She had sprouted up since her fourteenth birthday. “I never said zombie, and you know it! Why end up dead when there are…other options?”
“Name one.”
“A ghost? Then you’d have Custard to play with.”
“Nope.”
“A vampire, then? You’d love being a vampire! You could turn into a bat and go out flying with Hades!”
“And spend my evenings chasing insects? Forget it.”
“But vampires are fashionable!”
“A bunch of stuck-up snobs if you ask me.”
Why did he always make life so difficult? “Fine. What about a liche?”
“What’s a liche?”
“A zombie with brains.”
“Do they still rot?”
“Everything rots, Thorn.” Then Lily brightened. “But you’ve got Dr. Byle. He’d keep you all patched up and limber. He’s made this ointment that he rubs on the zombies to stop rigor mortis from setting in. It’s brilliant for stiff joints. And squeaky doors.”
Thorn scratched his hand. “Listen, Lily, I know you mean well, in your weird Gehennish way, but I don’t need a ‘graveyard get-out clause,’ ’cause I ain’t planning on dying. Not today, not tomorrow, not here, not in the trials, neither. Got it?”
“Okay. Fine. Just make sure you don’t.”