by B. A. Scott
“But come now, your Highness,” Orbibaza continued. “You’re frigid. And soaked. Like a drowned rat.”
The audience roared in delight. Ayden flushed, then glared at the King.
“Fitting, though,” said Maryn. “Is that your most presentable attire? Such rags deserve to be—”
In an act of sheer grit, Ayden removed her drenched gowns and stood proudly, bearing nothing but boots and her revealing undergarments.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” she said, poised and already warmer. “Now, are you finished? Because I’ve come to discuss the matter of Lord Daro.”
For a moment, Maryn and Orbibaza were speechless at Ayden’s audacity.
“You’ve come for our counsel,” said the Sage.
“No,” Ayden told her. “I’ve come to beseech your alliance to our cause. Lord Daro is ravaging our lands. We would unite the nations against him, and rally in Avenalora.”
Again, the Marineans found difficulty with response.
“A—Avenalora?” Maryn asked.
“Lord Daro,” Orbibaza said. “Perhaps the most delusional Erygian of them all,” he spat. “But they’re all the same. Always proclaiming their own greatness, demanding it be recognized. Always believing they hold power and authority, where they do not. Daro thinks we will cower in fear. But he is woefully mistaken.”
“So, you would join us?” Ayden asked.
Orbibaza laughed. “Oh, silly girl,” he said. “You are far too presumptuous. We oppose Lord Daro—we would never condone his crusade. But nor would we be drawn inland, out from this safe hold. If he’s determined to bring war to our shores, he is a fool. No one reaches Marinar unless we let them.”
“You underestimate him,” Ayden said. “His forces have spread throughout the mainland. He’s already destroyed Caleton.”
“Has he?” asked the King. “Your father called his bluff and paid the price.”
“No nation can stand alone against him—not even yours.”
“If this is why you’ve come, then our business is concluded,” said the King.
“Except—” Maryn interjected, “you mentioned Avenalora?”
Ayden found Maryn’s change in tone surprising, as though she was desperate for more information.
“Yes,” Ayden responded. “I’ve been there. It’s the perfect rallying point.”
“And the Fountain of the Avenflame,” Maryn continued. “The Celestial Blaze—”
“Three wielders who accompanied me have already sipped from it.”
The Sage met eyes with Orbibaza, and they shared a thought.
“If the city has been revealed, then the Marineans have a right to its gift,” said Maryn. “Queen Ayden, we will not join your cause. But in our own time, we will journey to the Erygian city, and procure enough of its waters to see our Sages blessed for generations to come.”
“I don’t understand,” said Ayden. “You want to drink from the Avenflame, and what? Bring back a vial of its water?”
Maryn found amusement in the notion. “A vial?” she said. “No. We will bring it by the barrel.”
“If that is why you’d venture there—for your own selfish benefit,” Ayden said, smiling, “then you will never find it. Even if you search for a hundred years.”
“What do you mean?” Orbibaza asked. “Of course we’ll find it. You did.”
“I found Avenalora, because I needed to,” said Ayden. “Not because I wanted to plunder its resources. The city is protected by a veil spell. My intentions allow me to bypass it. Yours would never see you through.”
“Do we not need the Celestial Blaze?” asked Orbibaza. “That we would use it to heal our sick?”
“I wonder how many have sought the city for that very reason, and found nothing,” Ayden retorted. “Surely, Avenalora would have been discovered long before now, were that all it required. Whether you like it or not, if you truly wish to stock up on water from the Avenflame, I’m your only way in.”
“Oh, little one,” said Maryn. “If only your lies weren’t so outrageous, one might actually believe them. But I commend your enthusiasm. You’re far more entertaining than your father ever was.”
Ayden shrugged her shoulders. “Do as you will,” she said flippantly. “Since you won’t help us in the fight against Daro, it really makes no difference to me how long you search in vain. And now, since our business is concluded—as you said—I believe we’re done here. Good luck wandering the mainland. I’m sure you’ll find it perfectly pleasant.”
Maryn and Orbibaza studied her, debating her truthfulness. After a long moment’s deliberation, the Sage spoke.
“To ensure the prosperity of this great nation, I will accompany you to Avenalora,” she said.
The crowd stirred, uneasy with the Sage’s decision.
“After all your courtesies here, why would I allow you such a privilege?” Ayden asked.
“Just a moment ago, you would have welcomed my company, had our armies been at your disposal,” said the Sage.
“But they’re not,” Ayden said. “And you clearly need lessons in hospitality. I shall not forget this day for some time. In fact, I’m not inclined to have you so much as accompany me back to my ship, much less the lost city.”
“We could hold you here, until you change your mind,” Orbibaza threatened.
“Keep me prisoner, until I agree to lead you there?” Ayden scoffed.
“If you wish to leave Marinar any time soon, it would be wise to accept these terms,” said the King.
“Well, in your wisdom,” Ayden spoke, “clearly you can see that kidnapping the Human Queen is a declaration of war. I’m sure you’ve enjoyed your centuries of isolation here. Regardless of how well you think Marinar is protected, how wonderful it will be when this island paradise falls under attack by my people and my allies.” She paused, then continued. “But threats do not become us. We are royalty. Let us not resort to extremes. I’m sure we can come to an agreement that would be mutually beneficial.”
It looked to Ayden as though Maryn was frantically searching her mind for another solution.
“Perhaps a trade, then,” spoke the Marinean Sage. “By the King’s consent,” she regarded Orbibaza, “your next Sage may drink of our waters.”
Through the muffled watery walls, Ayden discerned gasps from the crowd. The King nodded, approving of Maryn’s terms.
“But your next hundred will have water from the Avenflame,” Ayden said. “This is not an even trade.”
“The Avenflame is not your Fountain to govern, Queen Mercer,” said Maryn.
“Nor is it yours,” Ayden said. “The next ten Human Sages will be allowed to drink. “Or, you will provide me with a vial of your waters.”
“The next three,” Orbibaza spoke.
Ayden paused, then nodded. “And when they come, you will show them the same respect you would for one of your own. Not—not this.”
The King gestured his agreement. But the Queen knew he and Maryn would never let her have the last word.
“You will accommodate myself, as well as my escorts,” said the Sage.
“As you have accommodated me?” Ayden snarled.
“All will be housed, fed and tended to as you would any dignitary,” Maryn pressed.
Ayden picked up her soaked clothes, and spoke, “Agreed. I’ll be returning to my ship now, and leaving with the tide.”
There were no bows or displays of respect. Maryn shared a quick word with the King, then took Ayden from the room, and led her back to her ship.
“Now that thousands of your people aren’t watching,” Ayden told her, once they were alone, “will you dry my sodding gowns?!”
Maryn stopped in her tracks, and regarded the Queen.
“You know, if you weren’t so Human,” she said, taking all the water from Ayden’s clothing with a wave of her hand, “I just might like you.”
Ayden dressed, and they continued toward the ship. When they arrived, Ayden boarded, to the crew’s relief.<
br />
“You were gone much longer than we anticipated,” said the Captain.
“I’m fine, Captain. Thank you,” she told him.
“Was your meeting fruitful?”
“I got what I could,” said Ayden. “I got the Sage. We’ll be returning with guests—Maryn and her escorts.” She looked back to Maryn, who remained on the dock. “Are you coming?” she asked.
“I’ll take my own vessel, thank you,” said the Sage.
“And what the hell is that?” the Captain asked, pointing to what looked like a regiment of three hundred fully armed Marinean soldiers, approaching the dock. Several other Marineans carried numerous trunks of what Ayden could only presume to be Maryn’s traveling effects.
“Maryn, who are they?” asked Ayden.
The Sage smiled and spoke, “My escort.”
* * * * *
“The Port of Skaelwood approaches,” Xado told the others.
Relief filled Dareic as he watched the mainland draw ever nearer. Farther down the deck, Vexen showed Vega a trick she’d mastered with a shield spell. Like a tiny bowl of golden light above her palm, she swirled seawater to the Aerolus’s delight.
“I think I’ll be more glad to get away from her than our kindly Captain will be to get rid of us,” Dareic said.
“If she hadn’t been here, we’d all be dead,” said Treäbu.
“How do you figure?”
“When the Incinians held us off at the fire gates—don’t you remember? They said they were going to kill us. But they had a change of heart when we attacked them. Imprisonment over death.”
“Yeah, and?” Dareic asked.
“It was Vexen who attacked them, if you recall. We survived because of her. And it wasn’t fancy swimming that saved you from the fire sharks.”
Dareic saw Vega and Vexen approaching, and sought to end the conversation.
“We all played our part, I suppose,” he said. “Even Fahren, don’t you think?”
“Indeed,” said Vega. “I wonder what’s become of our friend, the Incinian Sage.”
“All we know is that he planned to steal the Gauntlet,” Dareic said.
“And what would we do with it, if he succeeded?” Vega asked.
“Well, if it magnifies power,” said Dareic, “Fahren could use it to burn Daro’s entire army to a crisp. Tens of thousands, dead, before they can even reach the wall.”
Vega nodded sorrowfully. “All these furenti. All these terrible things,” he said with a sad smile. “Weapons of death. Things that burn. Things that tear flesh from bone and explode and infect. Is this where our magic goes? Our intelligence? Our gifts? To these things? To see how creatively we can destroy one another? That’s how it started, you know. Many ages ago. This nation made a weapon, so we will make a stronger one.
What gauntlet or amulet or ring is there that fuels the good in our hearts? That doesn’t seek to destroy? Where is the one that isn’t stained with blood, or conjured from hate or tainted with foul intentions? If we seek to use these tools of malice, are we the very same as the monsters that created them? Are we no better than they?”
“Vega, I would use the Gauntlet of Wrath to protect my people in a heartbeat,” Treäbu said. “Our reasons set us apart, don’t you see?”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” said the Aerolus, “but I’m sure their creators validated their use, just as we do now.”
“Look, we don’t even know if Fahren was able to get it,” Dareic said. “We don’t even know if he made it out before—”
“We’re approaching,” Xado called out. “You’re off this ship the second it docks.”
The ship slowed and eased into port. Dareic saw a host of armed Skaelar awaiting their arrival.
Treäbu, Vega and Vexen disembarked the Evader without a word to its Captain, but Dareic, despite Xado’s disposition, didn’t wish to part ways without at least saying farewell. He wanted to thank the Captain for their passage, but knew, for all Xado lost during the journey, thanks was the last thing he wanted.
“I hope your next fare proves less eventful, Captain Anthrabar,” Dareic said. Xado didn’t so much as look his way, much less respond. Dareic started to speak again, then realized it would be best if he simply left.
He set foot on the dock and joined the others, where five armored Skaelar bore faces of the utmost urgency.
“Ambassador,” one of them said, “we must return to Skaelwood at once. There is no time to waste.”
“Let me guess, it’s under attack,” Dareic said.
“It will be. Daro’s army marches for us. We’ve been waiting for your return. Were you successful?”
“If you mean to ask if we got the Incinians to fight with us,” Dareic said, “then, I have no idea. If you’re asking about the other thing, well that’s a long story.”
“What other thing?” the female Skaelar asked, seemingly having no knowledge of Ralian’s request to procure the Gauntlet of Wrath.
“Kokira, is Ralian here?” Treäbu asked. “We need to speak with him.”
“The Sage is in Skaelwood, making preparations,” said the Skaelar, Kokira. “Come, we are ready to travel.” She led them from the dock, into the trees, where an escort of fifty Skael’adar mounted or tended to great lizard-like beasts that Dareic remembered glimpsing on his very first visit to Skaelwood. They bore brown leather saddles and stood upright on their hind legs.
“I remember these,” Dareic said.
“Peletors,” Treäbu told him. “Fastest creatures in Adoran.”
“It’s two days’ journey to Skaelwood on foot,” said Kokira. “These cut that time in half. I hope you can hold on, ambassador.”
“Why couldn’t we take them when we came here in the first place?” Dareic asked.
“Their breeding season ended while you were away,” Kokira told him. “It would not have been safe before.”
“Safe?” Dareic asked.
“The females can be rather aggressive, shall we say. And the males, dangerously territorial over their claim. Here.” She handed Dareic the reigns to a towering peletor. “Her name is Per’al. Get on.”
Treäbu mounted his ride with ease, and Dareic took note of his method. He, Vexen and Vega, having never ridden one of the beasts before, mounted their own with far less agility.
“We ride!” Kokira called out, leading the pack westward toward Skaelwood.
Dareic’s peletor reared back, then jerked into a mad dash. Dareic expected the ride to be unbearably shaky, but the creature moved with such fluidity and grace, he never wanted to ride a horse again.
Daro’s army is marching, he thought as the forest blurred around him. Caleton didn’t stand a chance. And what have I accomplished? How is anything I’ve done going to help sway the battle? I don’t know what tricks Ralian has up his sleeve, but if that old Sage can’t conjure up a miracle, Skaelwood is most certainly doomed.
Chapter 24: The Wind Rider
Kade awoke to gentle rocking and the smell of salt water. Her senses came to her, and she looked to her side. The disheveled bed was empty, but she remembered Kaven sleeping next to her when she laid down to rest.
Oh buggar, she thought to herself, plopping her head back on the pillow. All he wanted was space from me, and I couldn’t even give him that.
She composed herself and left the cabin, emerging onto the deck, where Kaven was surrounded by a slew of hovering planks and two teardrop-shaped Borean shields. His appearance was unkempt, but his eyes were alive with discovery.
Kade walked slowly toward him, ready to apologize for sharing his bed.
“I had a dream,” Kaven told her, sensing her approach. “It was about Gabrel.”
“Ahem, yes?” Kade said, appreciating Kaven’s dismissal of the obvious topic.
“It was blurry, though. He was going through these silver valleys.”
“He probably tried to speak with you while you were asleep,” Kade said.
“I checked on him when I woke up,” said Kav
en. “I read his memories. You’ll never believe what he did, Kade. He used Fury and the Celestial Blaze together. He healed a lot of his soldiers all at once.”
“Are you serious?” Kade asked.
“He used what you taught us. He saved those men because of you.”
“Then I am very proud of him,” said Kade.
“I never thought he was that clever. I mean, that was pretty ingenious.”
“It just takes some longer than others to grasp the talent,” Kade said. “Speaking of, I see you’ve been hard at work again,” she motioned to Kaven’s assortment of floating objects.
“Yeah, I woke up with a few ideas,” said Kaven. “And the funny thing was, when I woke, I looked over and—”
“I am so sorry,” Kade interjected. “I healed you, and Faelia put me down to rest. I don’t even remember—”
“Good lord, it’s alright,” Kaven laughed. “It took me a while to piece together what happened. But if I didn’t tell you before, thanks for catching me.”
“You did. You’ve really got a thing for injury, you know that?”
“Hello, Kade,” Faelia said, entering the conversation. “How’d you sleep?”
Kade scowled at the Borean’s mischievous tone.
“Just fine,” Kade said.
“You’ve got pillow-head,” Faelia pointed out, nodding to Kade’s hair. Kade instantly reached up and felt its untidiness. “You must’ve had a good dream.”
“I see you’ve leant Kaven some of your shields now,” Kade said, changing the subject.
“Oh yeah,” Faelia rolled her eyes. “He’s been at it all day,” Faelia said. “Swears he’ll remove the enchantments, so we get them back the way they came. You know, Kaven, I have some mops and broomsticks you could practice on instead.”
“I think those would be wildly uncomfortable to ride,” Kaven responded.
“I told him to wait for you,” continued Faelia, “so you could make sure he survives his little experiments, but he insisted we let you rest. Isn’t that sweet?”
“A simple courtesy,” Kaven said, as if it were no matter. “Besides, I think this one’s gonna be a lot less dicey. I’ve just finished the last enchantment.”