by Nick McNeil
“You’re really going to have to catch me up here.” Bertly had typically dozed off in his history classes, but surely he would have remembered learning about this, and would be even more certain if he possessed the shield.
“Three thousand years ago I made it my obligation to defeat Bishop. But I could never do it.” Cordelia was straightforward. It was a refreshing change from most of the folks in Pangea. “It was not from a lack of effort. For years I tried; however, I was never able to beat him, so I took a desperate measure. Since he is technically a creature, I soul-bonded with him. As I presume you know, the fate of the bonder is the fate of the bonded. Meaning if I died, he died. I wasn’t strong enough to kill him, so I had to let him kill me.”
“Incredible. But I still don’t understand.” Bertly pinched the bridge of his nose. “Then how are you here now?”
Cordelia walked toward Bishop’s dragon. “I thought I could cheat death by merging parts of my spirit into my warblade, shield, and cloak. In the hopes that one day, a powerful wizard would come along and reawaken me using the items I left behind.” She grabbed one of the boney beast’s teeth, broke it off from its jaw, and quickly examined it. “This will make a fine dagger.”
“But if I don’t have your shield, then who does?” the Winter Wizard asked. “And why has Bishop returned?”
“You aren’t very quick, are you?” Cordelia broke off another tooth and tossed it to Bertly. “Bishop and I are soul-bonded; the only reason he died is because I died.”
“Which means, since you came back, he came back.” It was starting to click together. “Which also means either we need to kill him ourselves…or you need to sacrifice yourself again.”
“That’s correct,” Cordelia replied. “As for my shield, I do not know for certain. But I would not be here unless all three of my items were activated.”
“Any idea where it could be?” Bertly inquired.
Cordelia broke off a few more of the dragon’s teeth and shoved them into her pockets. “Not for certain, but I have a guess as to where we can start looking.”
“And where would that be?” Bertly was perplexed. She did not act as though she had been locked away for so long.
“Bablanca, home of the dwarves,” Cordelia responded. “Whenever something eludes me, I always start there. Dwarves always seem to be involved in these types of situations.”
“A situation is one word for it,” Bertly cracked. “What makes this time any different? Why would you want to come back if you knew Bishop would also return?”
“Because this time I have you,” she replied.
The hardened dome surrounding Polly and Bear cracked. The shield formed from the ground turned into dirt and collapsed around them. Bear stood on all fours with drool dripping from her mouth and blood running down her front shoulder—Polly was sitting on top of Bear, tightening her glove.
“Bertly, you’re okay!” Polly cried. “Once the noises stopped…we assumed the worst.” She slid down the side of Bear and ran into Bertly’s arms, nuzzling her face into his chest—the top of her head didn’t even come up to his chin.
Bertly was overjoyed to see Polly. He felt the sting of tears play behind his eyes, and a sigh of relief escaped his lips. She was safe. A warmth flowed through him as she buried her face in his chest and gripped him with such strength that he wouldn’t have expected even from Bear. Oddly, he wanted to forget the world and continue to embrace his friend, but Polly broke from him the moment she spotted the woman standing with Bertly.
She stepped back and looked at the tall, strong woman. “Who is this?” Polly asked.
“Hello, I’m Cordelia.” Cordelia reached out her hand and kept a straight face. “It is nice to meet you, Polly. Although I have to say, I was not expecting you to be here.”
“Um, hello.” Bertly watched as Polly examined Cordelia’s cloak. “So it really is you. But…how?”
While Polly stared in awe, the wizard took a moment to think before directing his attention to Cordelia again. “Wait a minute, what do you mean, you weren’t expecting her to be here?”
“I just never imagined you and the daughter of Bishop to be working together,” Cordelia commented. She didn’t sound concerned at all with the remark she made.
“What?” Bertly blinked.
“That’s a lie,” Polly cried. Bertly wrapped his arm around her. But why would Cordelia tell them anything but the truth?
“When one of my items, which I now assume is my shield, was activated eighteen years ago, it brought my consciousness back to life, along with Bishop’s. Not physically, but in a spiritual form. Even though we did not yet have our bodies back, that did not stop Bishop from making the first move.” Cordelia pulled out her warblade, the blade only extended a few inches, and she used it to sharpen the dragon’s teeth she had collected. “He passed along his abilities to a pregnant human woman, more specifically, the child she bore. Since humans no longer had the ability to possess magic and were mostly closed off from the rest of Pangea, it was the perfect place for her to go unnoticed.”
“That’s why none of your items work for Polly.” Bertly needed to sit. He was growing overwhelmed.
Polly remained silent.
“So I countered,” Cordelia continued. “I sent along my abilities to a human as well.”
“But why me?” Bertly asked.
“I needed to make an immediate decision. I didn’t have time to think it through, or else Bishop would have had a leg up on me.” Cordelia’s almond-shaped brown eyes looked at Bertly. “I went with the safest decision and chose my newest-born relative. Shortly after passing along my abilities, I once again lost my consciousness.”
“Relative?” Bertly asked, the oxygen sucked from his lungs.
“Surely you must be aware that we descend from the same lineage?” Cordelia broke eye contact and continued to sharpen the rest of the dragon teeth. “Unless something has changed, there are not many humans who come from mammoth blood. We are typically quite easy to spot, considering giants are the only race larger than us.” She looked him up and down. “You aren’t very big for a male. You haven’t gone through the ceremony yet, I presume.”
“Not yet, my father is still the warden of Stonebank,” Bertly replied. Bear rested her head in his lap.
“Interesting, when I was your age, every boy drank mammoth blood, not just the warden. I am, however, glad some things have remained the same.” Cordelia tucked the sharpened dragon teeth into her utility belt. “We are still the protectors of Stonebank, you say?”
“Of course.” Bertly raised his voice proudly. “My…our family has defended those lands since the day you left.”
Cordelia walked back over to Bertly and rested next to Bear. She gave Bear one pat and focused her attention back on the conversation. “Good. It makes me happy to know we still run the rightful capital of Pangea.”
Bertly gasped. “Say what now?”
Cordelia sighed. “A lot has changed in three thousand years. It’s sad to know Noskar fell so much after I left. Maybe after all of this is done, we can return the human country to its former glory.” Cordelia’s voice grew a little higher, letting a slight hint of happiness show. It was revitalizing for Bertly to see a human side to her seemingly callous personality. “But first, we need to track down my shield. We don’t want it to slip into the wrong hands, and if it has, we are going to need to get it back.”
“Wow, Bishop is a lot prettier than I had imagined.” Bertly heard the irritating voice of his young apprentice accompanied by yet another ill-timed comment. He could only assume his apprentice was referring to Cordelia.
The Winter Wizard looked back and saw his father standing, posed for battle, with Ayce by his side, his bow drawn. Roderick was wedged between them, holding up a wooden shield. Bertly assumed he’d grabbed it off a Rotter on their way over to him.
“I can’t say I disagree, Roderick.” Edfrid smacked the head of his war hammer into
his palm. “But I’m the warden of Stonebank, and I will rip the head off anyone who touches my gryphon.”
“There is no need for that.” Cordelia waved her hand vertically. Edfrid’s and Ayce’s weapons were stripped from their hands and pinned to the ground. “I am the furthest thing from Bishop. I am Cordelia.”
“Clia,” Bertly muttered, suddenly remembering.
“Bertly, how could we have forgotten?” Polly stressed, pain and guilt straining her voice.
Edfrid, Ayce, and Roderick stood idly in awe of Cordelia’s presence. They appeared more petrified than if they had seen a ghost. To Bertly’s amazement, his apprentice was still conscious.
“The same way they have been distracted now. By bestowing their eyes on the savior herself.” The Winter Wizard tapped Cordelia on the shoulder. “We need your help. Our friend is in critical danger. Can you please heal her?”
Cordelia didn’t hesitate. “Take me to her.”
Bear plowed through the wreckage on the battlefield, clearing a path for everyone to follow behind. Bertly could not spot Clia amongst all the debris—he relied on Bear’s nose to sniff her out.
“Sir, do you think she is going to be okay?” Roderick asked, a quiver in his voice.
“Yes, Roderick.” Bertly did not want to consider the alternative.
Bear pressed her claws into the dirt and dragged her back legs across the ground, coming to an abrupt stop. Bertly sprinted past his spirit animal.
He stopped when he saw Clia lying motionless across a heap of dead Rotters. Her eyes were shut and her body ceased to rise and fall with the breaths she took, if she took any at all. He examined the puncture wound in her chest. The hole was too deep to see where it stopped.
“Clia!” Edfrid cried. The warden threw his war hammer to the side, rushed to the gryphon, and placed her head in his lap. Tears ran down his cheeks as he softly brushed her beak and whispered to her, “You’re going to be fine, girl.”
Ayce watched from a distance as Roderick and Polly surrounded their friend. Polly draped her arms around Clia’s neck and burrowed her face within the gryphon’s feathers.
Cordelia sighed and fumbled with her hands, looking at them as though they were useless tools. “I am so sorry.” Cordelia knelt down next to Bertly and looked at him, her eyes compassionate, yet stern. “But my magic only works on humans. I didn’t know…”
A silence enveloped the group. A thick silence filled with grief and rage, memories and their own failures. Edfrid let out a low groan. “No, no, no. No. She’s my best…no.” Edfrid gulped, petting the gryphon. He looked back up at Cordelia. “You’re Cordelia. If anyone can help her, you can,” Edfrid asked, but in such a way that it sounded more like a demand.
Cordelia opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She shook her head as though she didn’t want to speak. “It won’t work. I-I’m so sorry.” She placed a hand on the gryphon, waited a moment, and shook her head once more.
“I thought you were supposed to be the savior. The strongest magician in history.” Edfrid’s cheeks reddened, and veins popped from his forehead.
“I’m still only a human,” Cordelia replied. “I wish I were more, but I am not. I see what she means to you, and if I could—”
“Fine. I’ll do it.” Roderick stood and placed his hands on Clia’s lifeless torso. “Teach me how to soul-bond.”
“You will only suffer the same fate if you try to…” Cordelia hesitated before finishing her reply. “If you try to bond with a dying soul.”
“Just tell me how to do it!” Roderick shouted.
Bertly bit his bottom lip as his eyes welled up. He couldn’t look at his father and see the loss in his eyes. He felt it sharply himself as he petted Clia; her feathers still had a slight grip to them, just as they had when they’d flown together. “Roderick, stop!” Once the first tear fell, the rest poured out like a stream. Torment filled Bertly’s soul. It wasn’t anger or sadness, but the sharp ache of truly losing something. He had loved this animal more than almost any living being. He felt suffocated from how far he buried his face into her body—her feathers had lost the grip that had once held him in place, kept him safe and protected. They were simple feathers now, and the wind blew through them, giving them a slight illusion of life. An involuntary hiccup slipped through his lips, and he tasted the salt from the tears that covered his face.
She was the last tether Bertly had to his master. Alestar was dead, dead and gone, but at least his master had lived on, in a small way, through Clia. There was something missing from Bertly already. Each loss created a hole somewhere deep within. How could humans, or others, walk with so much loss each day with their souls still intact? He’d learned long ago that those wounds of loss heal, but never fully. They open again and again all through life.
Cordelia approached Clia and plucked a feather from her body. The gryphon’s feathers then faded from their bright white to gray and finally to black. Her textured body felt like loose soil. Clia slowly turned into a frail, ashen frame, and with the first gust of wind, she drifted away.
Cordelia placed Clia’s last feather in Bertly’s hand.
Polly sat next to Bertly and wrapped Clia’s whistle around his neck. Bertly rose up and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “How do we kill him?” Bertly asked. Bear growled in agreement.
“First, we need to get my shield,” Cordelia replied. “I cannot reach my full strength until I have it.”
“Son, wait. Don’t act on anger,” Edfrid urged, his own voice still cracking, his eyes damp.
“I’m not acting out of anger. Bishop isn’t going to run off into hiding. He is going to rebuild and come back stronger. That means we need to be stronger as well.” Bertly picked a sword up off the ground. He waved it around to feel its weight. “This will take some getting used to.” He slid the blade into the sheath that Cordelia’s warblade used to occupy. “Cordelia, you mentioned Bablanca?”
“Bablanca?” Roderick shouted.
“Yes, I did.” Cordelia crossed her arms. “But the dwarves and I didn’t end on very good terms. I doubt they are going to let me into their mountainside kingdom.”
“What happened?” Roderick probed.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Cordelia snapped.
“Well, can’t you just…I don’t know…let yourself in?” Roderick continued to prod. “Is anyone really powerful enough to stop you?”
Edfrid’s laugh sounded raspy. “I am assuming none of you have ever been to Bablanca.” He stood up, carefully avoiding any of Clia’s last remaining ashes. “There is not a single soul who can break through the gates of Bablanca. The barrier protecting the mountain they live in must be made of the strongest magic in all of Pangea.”
“The warden is correct,” Cordelia added. “Not even I can break through the barriers of Bablanca. No one has ever entered Bablanca if they were not allowed inside.”
“Unfortunately, they are also not very welcoming to outsiders,” Edfrid said.
“Sorry if I am speaking out of turn, but what about the Blight?” Ayce stepped into the group circle. “Maybe if we explain to them the severity of the situation, they will be willing to help.”
“Highly unlikely. The dwarves are perfectly happy staying locked away in their mountain until the end of time.” Cordelia grunted. “As a people, they will never take an unnecessary risk.”
“Well…” Bertly looked at Roderick and Polly. “We actually have a couple of friends who may be able to help us out.”
“Is that so?” Cordelia squinted, appearing skeptical.
“Yes,” Polly said. “A set of dwarf twins, in fact.”
Cordelia put out her arms. “Well, where are they?”
“Right.” Bertly’s voice was still sore from crying. “They’re in a slight predicament right now.”
“Predicament?” Cordelia sounded unamused.
“Mother has them held hostage at the Zoo.” Roderick’s voice cracked.
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br /> “They’re at the Zoo?” Cordelia’s eyes widened and her voice rose. “I was hoping never to return there.”
“It didn’t seem so bad when I went there.” Edfrid walked over and picked his war hammer off the ground.
“What kind of deal have you made with Mother?” Cordelia glared at Bertly. “No one ever makes it out of the Zoo.”
“Well, I guess you could say I have a running tab.” Bertly scratched the back of his head. “The twins are being held as leverage to ensure that I return…and finish the one hundred fights I owe her.”
Cordelia crossed her arms. “That sounds more like it.” She sighed.
“A hundred what?” Edfrid hollered.
Bertly shrugged. “Mother has a way with words.”
“And enchantments. She makes everyone fall for her little games,” Cordelia grumbled. “Well, it looks like we are headed to the Zoo.”
“Aren’t we going to tell the queen?” Ayce stressed. “And the Elders?”
“Yes, sure.” Cordelia shooed him away. “Do as you please. But I do not answer to any elf queen or the Elders. Not after they expelled me. I answer only to the ruler of Noskar.” She glanced over to Edfrid. “Which, I suppose, is you.”
Edfrid pointed at himself in shock.
“Wait a minute, back it up,” Bertly interjected. “You were expelled?”
“Yes, but that is a story for another time. We have much more urgent matters to attend to.” Cordelia looked to the sky and pointed at the sun. She turned to the east. “I will need to retrieve Levy before we embark. It will take me at least a fortnight to track him down. Where should I meet you?”
“Levy?” Roderick asked.
“Yes. My dragon,” Cordelia responded. “I left him swimming the depths of the ocean all those years ago. Now that I am alive again, so is he…I can sense it.”
“I suppose we would all like to return home before embarking on…whatever it is we are getting ourselves into.” Bertly observed Polly and Edfrid, who both seemed to be in agreement.