by J. B. North
“Where are they?” asked a man’s voice. I knew that voice, although it was several degrees colder than what I was used to. Roland.
But he was a stranger now, as far as I was concerned. “Tell me where they are!” his voice yelled suddenly, making me jump.
I looked over to see if Kurt was awake to hear this. He was.
Sheena’s voice was panicky. “Roland! I…I didn’t expect you so soon.”
“No, I’ll bet that you didn’t,” he said. “Now tell me where you put them.”
“Yes, sir. Right this way, sir,” she said, worry lining her voice. I hurried to straighten my dress and my hair, and then chastised myself for it. It didn’t matter what he thought about me anymore. He betrayed me.
The door opened, but this time, the dim, gray light of morning filtered in.
Roland took in my appearance, barely even glancing at Kurt. If I looked half as bad as Kurt, I would look horrible.
“Sheena,” he hissed under his breath. “You’re fired.”
Sheena looked at me and then at him. “What? They look fine! They’re still alive, aren’t they?”
Roland glared at her. He glanced back at me one more time and then steered her away a few feet. I still could hear their conversation, despite his efforts.
“I trusted you with her. I told you she was to be presentable when we got to our destination. Since you have failed me on this small task, I will not provide you with a horse, nor your weekly pay. You will fend for yourself from here on out. You knew the mistake that you were making when you didn’t do as I said.”
“You can’t do that,” Sheena said, her voice rising. “The only reason I even consented to being under you was because you employed my brother.”
“I really don’t care,” he said coldly. “Sean!” he yelled. The older man that had given us our food yesterday showed up beside Sheena. “You are given the choice either to stay or go, but your sister is banished. Do as you wish.”
He walked away from the wide-eyed siblings, and back toward our carriage. “Bryson,” he yelled. A young man appeared beside him. “You get Kurt. I’ll help Ivy.”
Bryson nodded. Roland grabbed my hand, and I shrunk back. “Let go of me, traitor,” I growled as menacingly as possible.
“Calling me names won’t do anything for you, Ivy,” he said, pulling me out. Emotion was lacking in his voice.
I nearly fell once my feet were on the ground. It had been so long since the last time that I walked. He swung me up into his arms unexpectedly. “Put me down!” I shrieked. I struggled hard, but to no avail. He was too strong.
I tried to change form, but it still didn’t work.
“Your mind is very strong, Ivy,” Roland said as he walked. “Stronger than most. But you will not be strong enough to break my spell unless you sign under the master.”
“I don’t care about you or your master or your power.” I tried to jerk out of his grip. “I just want to finish the quest!”
He finally put me down, but in the carriage that he had arrived in. He backed away to let Bryson get past him.
Bryson helped Kurt into the carriage, but I ignored him and kept my fiery gaze on Roland. Before Roland shut the door, I said, barely above a whisper, “What would Burton think? What would Matilda think?”
His appeared confused for a few seconds before the door slammed shut. The moment didn't last long, and then he was glaring at me through the window.
I already knew the answer to the questions I'd asked, and so did he. They would be crushed, just like I was.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It didn’t take long for Roland to come back. He actually had the nerve to sit with us in the small space that the carriage provided. It reminded me of the trip to the conservatory with Niko, and I did the exact same thing that I had done before. I ignored him.
He set a damp cloth on both my lap and Kurt’s. “I thought you would want something to wash up a little. It was not my intention for you to be neglected.”
I didn’t answer and I most certainly didn't touch the cloth. Neither did Kurt.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Roland assessing us. Then he pursed his lips.
I deigned to glare at him, before looking back out the window.
“You’re probably wondering about the future,” he started. When we didn't say anything, he continued. “…about where we’re going. But I’m not going to tell you…yet.”
I didn't want to hear his traitorous voice, and before I could hold it back, I was talking to him. “Neither Kurt nor I care one bit about what you have to say.”
He met my fiery gaze with his frosty one. “You do...you just don’t want to admit it.” He knocked on the ceiling of the carriage, and it stopped abruptly. “Enjoy the ride,” he said. “It’ll be a few days longer.”
Then, he shut the door. I watched as he headed to the back. After a few minutes, I heard the clopping of hooves and a white horse galloped by. My head bumped against the headrest of the seat as the carriage lurched forward to resume the journey.
Kurt and I glanced at each other, but we shared no words. It was obvious that the person who was once our friend wasn’t who he had always seemed to be.
The rest of the day was much more comfortable than it had been in the back of the wagon, although I would never admit it to Roland. We stopped once and Bryson let us out to eat with him. I could tell that we were in the middle of nowhere even when I was still in the carriage. The road was overgrown with brush and was full of holes.
I thought it was strange that Roland had left us with only one guard. It was two against one. I assumed that he must have confidence in Bryson to keep us straight. He must have magical abilities like Sheena did.
“So,” said Kurt, eying Bryson. “Do you know where we’re going?”
Bryson nodded. “Yes, but I’m not allowed to tell.”
Kurt sighed. “Surely keeping it a secret is not that important.”
“It is if Roland says it is,” Bryson answered without a second thought. He took out his knife and a whetstone, starting the process of sharpening the blade.
Kurt raised his eyebrows. I noticed a glint of mischief in his eyes and wondered what he was up to.
“By what the sun tells me, we’re headed southeast,” Kurt said.
Bryson looked up momentarily and nodded guardedly. “That’s right.”
“And if what Sean said was true—that we’ve been on this journey for about one week—then I think that it’s definitely a possibility that we’re near King’s Crest City.”
Bryson swiped his knife over the stone a little harder than necessary, and ended up slicing his thumb open. “Shoot,” he muttered under his breath. He wrapped his finger in his shirt and stood up.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. Before he started into the trees, I heard the muttered word, “Izere.”
I looked at Kurt. “How did you know where we are?” I asked.
“I know my way to King’s Crest by heart. Actually, I pretty much know anywhere by heart, except for the lands past Ginsey's capital and Pira, of course. Pirans are said to have powerful magic abilities, making them the most threatening of all the kingdoms.”
“So, are we headed in the direction of the Isle?”
He nodded. “Yes. That should work in our favor, if we are able to escape.”
I bit my lip, looking the way that Bryson had gone. “Think we should make a run for it?” I asked.
Kurt’s face screwed up. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“He put a spell on us when he left. Izere. I think it means something like “stay put” in the ancient language. I’ve had it muttered over me before.”
“Then, there really isn’t an escape,” I said with a sigh.
“Not right now. We'll have to be patient.”
Bryson came back a few minutes later with a newly bandaged thumb.
“Where did you get the bandage?” I asked.
He patted the bag that was at his
side. “I always try to keep them handy in case I or one of my comrades gets hurt.”
“Then why did you go off into the forest when you already had it by your side?”
“I knew there was a stream nearby,” he answered.
I looked at him doubtfully.
“Back in the carriage,” Bryson said. “We’re wasting time.”
Kurt went in first and I went in after him. Bryson slammed the door shut and a few minutes later the carriage lurched onward.
I watched the trees go by for hours. At one point, it started to rain, reflecting my mood. There were two things about this journey that made it a little better. The first was Kurt, and the second was the fact that every mile we went took me closer to the Isle of Ginsey.
*****
The next few days were barely notable. It was the same thing over and over. We would spend the night in the carriage, and then, after a small breakfast, the carriage would forge ahead, only pausing when it was lunchtime and stopping for the night when the forest was diminished to shadows. Every meal was just about the same thing. Bread, dried meat, and water.
After the third day, depression started to close in, and I refused to eat anything that Bryson gave me. It was the same the next day...and the next.
Kurt gave me worried glances every time I would turn my nose up at food. “Please eat, Ivy,” he said. “I don’t want you to get sick.”
But I averted his gaze and stared into the woods.
The fifth day was the day that we arrived at King’s Crest City. The gates to the city were large and black and dripping with rain. The wrought iron was curved into shapes of starved animals with sharp rib bones and shriveled plants that were withering away into nothingness. The buildings were gray, the pavement was gray, the people were gray. I thought in the back of my head that it might be my depression causing me to think that, but when I saw the castle, I knew that that wasn’t true. The castle had sandy-brown stones, its flags a vibrant purple and green. Beggars, more than I had ever seen, were crowded around its gate in rags. Gray rags.
I think that was what finally broke me out of my depressed state. Being depressed didn't help the fact that I was being held in captivity or the fact that this vile king was allowed to live in such magnificence while his people starved on the streets.
With that in mind, and the fact that I would have to see Roland soon, my mood turned from gray to red. Anger boiled through my veins, and I had to bite my lip hard to control the sudden rush of emotion. The carriage stopped in front of the castle. The castle of King Ciaran, the enemy of our country and King Giddon. I glared at its sprightly flags. Purple and green. How I hated those colors right then.
I watched through the small window as Roland came out of the castle accompanied by a middle-aged man with stringy gray hair that hung limply around his plump face. His body was the shape of a lumpy potato. A golden crown rested atop his pinched forehead. His people were starving while he feasted every day, perhaps all day by the looks of it.
I glared at the man, and I didn’t stop glaring even as he rested his beady little eyes on me.
Roland watched me also, and he made a slight shake of his head as if to warn me from doing it.
Bryson opened the carriage door, and I stepped out, ignoring his hand and walking to the side to wait for Kurt. Once he was out, Bryson shut the door and led the way up the steps to King Ciaran and Roland.
When we reached them, Roland said, “Thank you, Bryson. You are dismissed.”
Bryson nodded to him and bowed to the king before heading up the remainder of the stairs and into the large double doors.
King Ciaran’s gaze shifted to Kurt, and his meaty face appeared to be concentrating. “I know you!” he said. “You’re the one that caused all that trouble a few years ago.”
Kurt smiled unfeelingly. “The very same,” he answered.
King Ciaran coughed out a laugh. “Old Giddon will be so angry when he hears that I’ve captured his champion once again!”
Kurt didn't reply.
The king looked at Kurt and then at me. “Who’s the girl?” he asked Roland quietly.
Roland gave him a strange look. “She’s the phoenix.”
King Ciaran’s face displayed a look of surprise, but he quickly turned to glare at Kurt. “Then what is he doing here?”
“He was traveling with us,” Roland said.
King Ciaran huffed, and then nodded. “Well, let’s go inside, shall we?”
Roland motioned for him to lead the way with a bow, and then waited for Kurt and me to go first before tagging along behind us. I hurried to be shoulder to shoulder with Kurt, not wanting to give Roland the chance to talk to me.
“Kurt, do you have any idea about what’s going to happen to us?” I asked him quietly,
He shook his head. “I’ve been here before, but I don’t know why Roland would betray us for this. Especially you.”
I simmered. “This whole time, his friendship has been a ruse,” I said.
“I had a bad feeling about him, and I should’ve made it known to you.”
“I’d noticed that you weren't keen on being friends, but I never knew why,” I mumbled.
“No one could have known,” he reassured.
“And we can’t go back now,” I added.
King Ciaran led us down into the dungeons. He walked down the steps, breathing hard and wiping the sweat off his brow with a handkerchief embroidered with the letters CAG in purple and green. The letters were his name, Ciaran A. Gregson.
It seemed like we were walking at the pace of a crawl. The king walked past rows upon rows of prisoners, all shouting his name, pleading for another trial. There were some that were quiet. Ominously quiet and beginning to stink. King Ciaran turned his nose up in disgust for them and continued to walk. Surely Roland could see his fault in allying himself with this unmerciful king? Who would be so blind to choose evil over good?
King Ciaran came to the end of the cells where there was a large black door, studded with faces of various phantoms, ghouls, and skeletons.
“They’re to ward off anyone curious enough to check behind the door,” Roland whispered to me.
I shrunk away from his voice.
King Ciaran opened the door and stood aside with a glint in his eye. He motioned for me to go ahead into the adjoining room. I inched forward cautiously with Kurt at my back. The next room was lit with torches and candles. The warmth felt much better than the coldness in the dungeon, but I didn't take comfort in it. Comfort would not help me here.
“Follow me,” Ciaran said as he closed the door, locking it with a bolt. He went past us, lifted the flap of an old tapestry above his head, and disappeared. Kurt and I did as he said even though I was frightened of what might be beyond this room.
The tapestry made way for another lit up room. This one had one window near the ceiling, making it brighter in here than in the other room. Waiting in the room were three other people, but I didn’t know who they were or even whether they were male or female. They all wore black robes that concealed their faces.
They were chanting something that I didn’t understand. I looked back at Roland. “What is this?” I asked. The robed figures frightened me.
“You’ll see,” he said. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” I doubted that, especially when each of the figures pulled a knife out from underneath their their cloaks in unison.
I backed away, and Kurt went in front of me, as if to protect me. Instead of advancing on us, though, they pulled out their other hand and ran the blade across their palms. Sorcery.
They dripped the blood into a bowl and stepped back. Their chanting stopped immediately.
King Ciaran gestured for me to come forward.
I stayed where I was, immobilized with fear.
He huffed impatiently. “For goodness sake, girl, come when I tell you to come!”
“No,” I answered firmly. “I will not.”
He looked at Roland for help. Roland glanced between h
im and me, and finally took me by the wrist to pull me forward. “Come on,” he said gruffly.
Lord help me, I prayed secretly. Get Kurt and me away from this evil.
Heat began to burn through my skin. Roland blinked once, his face contorting into confusion before he jerked his hand away with a howl of pain.
“Never,” I whispered fiercely.
Then, the whole room erupted into light as I transformed into the phoenix. I had broken the spell holding Kurt and me captive. I was hardly conscious of what I was doing as I spun through the air, crashing through the window with all my might. It was painful, but it was entirely worth it. Kurt changed form, too. I felt it, although I don’t know how. There was another crash as he widened the hole that I had left. Something surprised me, though.
When I looked back, I noticed that Kurt had Roland on his back. My heart tightened in rage, but I kept going, trusting Kurt to be able to deal with him until we got a little farther away.
“Come back! It’s not finished! Come back!” King Ciaran shrieked.
One of the robed figures climbed out of the window, and raised his hands toward the sky. The clouds swirled down and condensed into a dark ball between his palms before he hurled it at us. It sailed past Kurt and nearly hit me, but I dove out of the way just in time.
As if it had a mind of its own, it circled back to Kurt and Roland. Roland saw it coming toward them and he yelled something to Kurt. Kurt dove, but he just wasn’t quick enough. The ball formed into a net and enveloped him. It would have enveloped Roland too, but when Kurt dived, it had caused Roland to fall off his back.
In what seemed like a second, I was at Roland’s side, catching him before he hit the ground.
I don’t know why I did it....Perhaps it was the fact that we had once been good friends. Too late, I realized that what I should have done was catch Kurt. He would've been too heavy for me, but I might've been able to lessen his momentum.
Time slowed. I watched powerlessly as Kurt struggled in the net, his teeth tearing through the strands, his claws ripping at it. Then he hit the ground, causing dust to billow in the air around him.