Cursed Bones (Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book Five)

by David A. Wells

  “Fortunately, I have a contingency,” Zuhl said. “I’m a firm believer in backup plans and redundancies. If I don’t receive the book by the solstice, then I will consume your life force in my yearly rejuvenation sacrifice. Either way, I get something I need.”

  Abigail swallowed hard, trying to calculate how many days remained before the shortest day of the year.

  “You have just over three weeks,” Zuhl said. “That should be more than enough time. Not to worry, I’ve already sent word to your forces. I trust they will relay the message with haste.”

  A thousand questions and concerns vied for attention within her mind but one rose to the top of the list. “What’s so important about this book?”

  “Ah, I’m glad you asked,” Zuhl said. “I must say, Lady Abigail, I’m enjoying our conversation immensely. There’s no one on the entire Isle of Zuhl who would dare to address me so casually, so simply. I find it refreshing … novel even.

  “I am very old, seven hundred and twenty-eight years old, to be precise. Over the centuries, I have collected a great number of very rare works, many unique. I’m especially interested in the journals of wizards. You would be surprised the things you can learn about magic from the musings of long-dead wizards.

  “One in particular has haunted me for centuries. A wizard named Jacinth. He was the lead assistant to Malachi Reishi in his research laboratory. He spoke of a spell that Malachi was developing in his last days, a spell that Jacinth had helped him create, a spell that I simply must have. Jacinth wrote that he watched Malachi pen the spellbook himself and saw him store it away inside his Wizard’s Den. He called it the ‘Lich Book,’ a spell of such potency that Malachi killed all of the researchers who helped him develop it once it was complete, even Jacinth. The last entry tells how Malachi permitted Jacinth to take a poison that would kill him painlessly in honor of his years of loyal service.

  “This book contains a spell that is the key to true immortality, and I must have it.”

  “And you think Alexander is just going to give it to you?”

  “He will if he values your life,” Zuhl said. “If not, then I’ll find a way to take it from him.”

  “I doubt it,” Abigail said. “Just for the sake of argument, how is this immortality spell supposed to work?”

  “Therein lies the genius,” Zuhl said, sitting back comfortably. “The spell transfers one’s life essence into a phylactery, a specially prepared item designed to store a soul, while animating the now dead body with the person’s awareness, will, and power. Through death, eternal life is found. It’s perfect. Since your body is already dead, it can never be killed. Not only would this spell grant immortality, but near invulnerability as well. It is the god-maker spell that I have been searching for all my life.”

  “If Alexander actually has this book, and he has any idea what it does, I guarantee he won’t trade,” Abigail said.

  “Perhaps not,” Zuhl said, standing and placing a vial of slightly blue liquid on the table. “This is dragon draught; it will ward you against the cold.”

  “What cold?” Abigail asked, suddenly wary.

  “We’re leaving Irondale for Whitehall,” Zuhl said. “You’ll ride with me on Izzulft. I assure you, the journey will kill you without the dragon draught.”

  Abigail hesitated, looking at the vial, then at Zuhl.

  “I can have that rather large man who brought you here make you drink it if you prefer.”

  She scowled at him but quaffed the potion with a sigh of resignation. A chill flowed into her, filling her with a coldness that seemed to encompass her entire body, yet without discomfort.

  He led her to a battlement where Izzulft was waiting and shackled her to his saddle before mounting up behind her and launching into the cold grey sky.

  Chapter 10

  “Jack, come quickly,” Chloe said, “he’s starting to wake. I can hear his thoughts again.”

  “Go easy, Alexander,” Jack said. “You’ve been through a lot. There’s no rush.”

  Their voices sounded far away, muffled. He couldn’t open his eyes but he was starting to see things anyway. It didn’t make any sense. Nothing made any sense. Confusion swirled inside his cottony mind. Consciousness slowly started to take hold, thoughts began to form, pushing aside the gauzy feeling in his head.

  He mumbled something unintelligible, then realized his tongue was swollen and dry. Someone drizzled cool water into his mouth. He struggled to swallow, working the muscles of his throat to overcome the scratchy dryness. More water allowed him to swallow, but he choked, coughing weakly until someone helped him sit up.

  Images of his surroundings were becoming clearer. He was in a room. It looked familiar. Jack and Chloe were there with him. A small dragon sat at the foot of his bed, resting her chin on the footboard and looking at him with big, golden eyes.

  Someone put a cup to his lips. He grabbed it and tried to tip it back, but the hand holding it resisted.

  “Slowly,” Jack said. “Drink a little at a time.”

  The voice sounded familiar. A small swallow sent him into a coughing fit. As soon as he regained his composure, he reached for the cup again. His vision was sharper now, even though his eyes were still closed.

  “All right, Alexander, lie back and try to get some rest,” Jack said. “Now that your fever has broken, you need to sleep.”

  He wanted to protest, tried to resist, but the hand gently pushing him back into the bed was too strong for him, and he couldn’t seem to form words. Moments later, he was asleep.

  ***

  Alexander woke feeling groggy and thirsty and hungry. He tried to open his eyes but they were crusted over with dried tears. Carefully, gingerly, he started to rub them clean, but before he could get them open, the room around him came into clear focus. Jack was there, sleeping in a chair next to his bed. Chloe was there as well, sitting on the back of another chair, watching him intently. The dragon was there too, sleeping at the foot of his bed.

  He cleared his throat and worked up enough saliva to swallow. Chloe buzzed into a ball of light and floated down in front of his face.

  “Can you hear me, My Love?” she asked out loud.

  “Chloe, what happened? Where are we?” he mumbled.

  “You were stabbed through the leg,” Chloe said.

  Jack woke and sat forward.

  “My head’s so fuzzy,” Alexander said.

  “You’ve been in a delirium for over a week,” Jack said. “Lady Bragador said your wound became infected, causing a fever that nearly killed you.”

  “Bragador?” he mumbled. “Dragons … We’re on Tyr.”

  “Yes,” Jack said.

  “Where’s Isabel?” Alexander asked.

  “We’ll talk about that later,” Jack said, after an uncharacteristic hesitation.

  Reality slammed back into Alexander. His mind focused as the events leading up to his current predicament played out in his memory. He sat up, ignoring the stab of pain in his leg, and his vision sharpened. He could see more clearly than he’d been able to see since Shivini blinded him. His all around sight was more detailed and vibrant than he remembered it.

  “Jack, tell me where Isabel is,” Alexander said.

  Jack sighed. “She left. We’re not sure where she went.”

  “What?! Why would she leave? How did she leave? We’re on an island!”

  “She took the ship,” Jack said, answering the easiest of his questions.

  “I don’t understand,” Alexander said. “Isabel wouldn’t leave me like this.”

  “She left to protect you, My Love,” Chloe said. “The darkness within her was becoming a danger to you. So she left.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Chloe buzzed into a ball of light and started flying in a circle in front of him.

  “Tell me, Little One.”

  She stopped and hovered in front of him. “The night you were wounded, you slipped into a fitful and feverish sleep. I woke to find Is
abel standing over you with a knife in her hand, poised to strike. Her eyes were vacant and empty, like she wasn’t really there, wasn’t in control of herself. I cried out for her to stop and she came to her senses. When she realized what she was about to do, she became distraught, frantic. She looked so afraid, My Love. She left that night, saying she couldn’t be trusted anymore by those she loved.”

  “Why didn’t you stop her?!” Alexander demanded.

  “How? I’m three inches tall,” Chloe shot back. “Besides, I didn’t want to stop her. She’d become a threat to your life, and I knew you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to admit it. We both love you, Alexander. And we both did what we must to protect you. She left and I let her go. What’s more, I’m proud of her for what she did. Leaving you hurt her, but she did it anyway because staying would have hurt you.”

  Alexander started to get up, but the stabbing pain in his leg stopped him cold. He gasped at the sudden intensity of it, breathing in short, quick breaths for a moment while he regained his senses. The wound was bad. He wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

  “Take it easy, Alexander,” Jack said. “You’ll tear your wound open.”

  “I’m sorry, Little One,” Alexander said, through the pain. “I didn’t mean to blame you.”

  “I know, My Love,” Chloe said. “Isabel will come back to you. I know it in my heart.”

  “I hope you’re right, Little One.”

  Anja sat up and put her head on the footboard, her tail flicking about excitedly.

  Alexander looked at the baby dragon, so gangly and uncoordinated, yet beautiful, a promise of power to come.

  “Anja? Is that you?” he asked.

  She nodded enthusiastically, her tail flicking back and forth.

  “She hasn’t left your side, except to feed,” Jack said, “and then only at her mother’s insistence.”

  His senses finally intact, Alexander surveyed his surroundings. He was lying in a bed in his Wizard’s Den. Hector and Horace were both there, silently watching over him, one guarding the door, the other sitting at the table. Outside the door was the cavern where he’d fought the pirates, recovered the Tyr Thinblade, saved Anja, and been stabbed through the leg by a wraithkin’s dagger.

  “How long have I been out?” he asked.

  “Ten days,” Jack said.

  “I need to get to my magic circle.”

  “You’ll tear your wound and set your recovery back by weeks,” Jack said. “Bragador made me promise to keep you from getting up. She spent hours applying heat to your wound to kill the infection. Without her, you’d be dead. Just stay in bed and heal.”

  “I need to find out where Isabel went,” Alexander said, choking back a lump in his throat.

  “What if we put a circle around your bed?” Jack asked. “Would that work?”

  Alexander thought about it for a moment. He’d seen magic circles of all different sizes—the only constants were the seven symbols carved between the dual circles.

  “I don’t see why not,” Alexander said.

  “Good,” Jack said. “You lie back and relax. Hector, Horace, and I will make a magic circle in the middle of the floor, then move your bed inside it.”

  The three men worked, while Anja nosed about, trying to figure out what they were doing, but mostly just getting in the way. Alexander carefully inspected each symbol as they drew it on the floor, using the symbols inlaid in gold on his meditation table as guides. Once the circle was complete, they carefully carried Alexander’s bed into the center of it.

  Before he could begin his meditation, he had an odd sensation … a knowing came over him. Bragador was coming. Moments later, she entered the room in human form.

  “Anja, it’s time to feed,” she said as she entered. “Ah, Alexander you’ve woken. You had us all worried for a time there.”

  “They tell me you saved my life,” Alexander said. “I’m in your debt.”

  “Careful, Alexander,” Bragador said. “Dragons take debts very seriously.”

  “As do I,” he said. “Thank you. For helping me and for sheltering us.”

  “Perhaps we’re even,” Bragador said. “After all, you did save my troublesome daughter.” Anja frowned until she saw the genuine smile Bragador gave her. “It seems she’s been spending all of her time here when she should be feeding and learning how to fly.”

  “Anja, I’ll be fine,” Alexander said, gently stroking the baby dragon’s brow. “And I’m not going anywhere. You can come see me later.”

  She nuzzled his foot and then followed her mother out of the Wizard’s Den.

  “I’ll be back in a while, Alexander,” Bragador said. “We have much to discuss.”

  “I look forward to it,” he said as she disappeared around the corner of the door. Then he turned to Jack and asked, “Has anything else happened that I need to know about?”

  “Not really,” Jack said. “Since Isabel left, everything’s been pretty quiet around here. We’re a good distance from the dragons’ main chambers so they haven’t come around much, except for Bragador and Anja. Mostly we’ve been watching over you and hoping you’d wake up.”

  Alexander nodded, then turned his thoughts to the state of the world when he’d arrived at the Spires. Battles were raging all around the Seven Isles. There were so many things he needed to do and so much he didn’t know. And he’d failed in his quest to recover the keystone. From the pain in his leg, he knew it would be weeks, maybe even months, before he would be strong enough to travel. He decided to use the time wisely.

  “I’m going to look in on Isabel,” he said, “maybe have a look around the Seven Isles while I’m at it. I’ll probably be a while.”

  “If you have a chance, could you see how Abigail’s doing?” Jack asked.

  Alexander nodded with a smile, then laid back and closed his eyes. It took some time to overcome the dull throbbing pain in his leg, but eventually he was adrift on the firmament. It seemed different somehow, more familiar.

  With a thought, he was floating in the cabin of a ship at sea. Isabel was sleeping fitfully in the bunk. For several moments, Alexander just watched her sleep, grateful that she was all right but saddened that she felt it necessary to leave his side. He still didn’t quite understand. They belonged together; she knew that as well as he did.

  He slipped into her dreams and found himself in his Wizard’s Den, watching Isabel stand over his restless body. She was dreaming of the night she’d left. Her eyes were vacant and distant, her hands held a dagger raised over his heart. She brought the dagger a few inches higher, preparing to strike, and then she stabbed down, hard. Just before it plunged into his heart, she woke, ejecting Alexander from her mind.

  He found himself floating in the cabin once again, watching her in the darkness as she cried herself back to sleep. He felt so helpless. She was all alone and Phane’s magic was claiming her free will. He could only imagine how scared she must be, but he was coming to understand her decision to leave. He tried to put himself in her position, asking himself what he would do to protect her under similar circumstances. She’d done the only thing she could have. That left him with the question of where she was headed.

  He rose up through the ship, high into the sky, until he recognized the shape of the island she was sailing toward. The shock of it was so intense that he snapped back to his body and sat up with a gasp. Pain from his wound stabbed into his leg, causing him to gasp again. Then he gently lay back down, focusing on his breathing until the agony subsided.

  Jack was lying on the next bed over, staring at the ceiling. He turned to Alexander but said nothing.

  “She’s going to Karth,” Alexander said quietly. “I wish I knew why.”

  “I can think of two possibilities,” Jack said. “Neither is going to be easy to hear.”

  Alexander turned to Jack, frowning.

  “Either she’s under Phane’s power or she’s going to try to kill him,” Jack said.

  Alexander sighed, noddin
g. “I don’t think he has control of her yet, but I saw her dream—it won’t be long before he does.”

  “I’m sorry, Alexander,” Jack said.

  “Me too.”

  He closed his eyes and focused his mind. He knew where she was and that she was safe, that was enough for now. Several moments later he was floating on the firmament again. This time he thought of Abigail and found himself over a vast army on the march. They were escorting thousands of refugees toward Fellenden City. Abigail looked anxious but well enough. Anatoly was riding next to her.

  With a flick of his mind he was at the ruined shipyards. They’d been totally burned to the ground. Huge burial mounds marked with Reishi, Ruathan, Ithilian, and Fellenden banners gave silent testimony to the losses she’d sustained. The thousands of barbarians scattered haphazardly across the battlefield, left for the scavengers to pick at, gave Alexander some measure of hope that Zuhl’s horde, while formidable, wasn’t invincible.

  Next, he visited Blackstone Keep. He was alarmed to see people carrying lanterns for light. The magic of the Keep was failing, and quickly. Without its protections, it was just stone, easily destroyed by magic.

  Alexander went to his message board and saw two messages. The first confirmed his fears. It read, “Keep’s magic is failing.” The second read, “Stalemate in Buckwold—Phane’s forces growing slowly.”

  Alexander found Kelvin in his workshop. The large room was lit with a number of brightly glowing stones suspended from the ceiling by string. He was busy creating more of the glow stones, presumably for use by others within the Keep.

  With a flick of his mind, Alexander was in Buckwold. His father’s men had built a formidable-looking berm wall that stretched from the ocean to the foothills of the Pinnacles. It looked sufficient to blunt the initial assault of the Lancers, but it probably wouldn’t hold for long once the enemy decided to attack. He thought of Warrenton and the world flickered by for an instant, then he was over the captured city. Lancers were camped all around its walls, and ships flying the Andalian banner were docked in port. Phane was managing to get some of his men through the blockade. A closer look revealed that two wizards stood guard atop towers overlooking the port. Any attack by the Sky Knights would be met with significant resistance.