Aurora Abroad

by Aron Lewes

  “Oh my God,” she whispered. “That tree stump over there... look! Do you see it?”

  Lyric leaned closer to Aurora in an attempt to gaze out the window. He was so close, his chin was touching her shoulder. “That knotty thing over there?”

  “Yeah!” she exclaimed, trying to ignore the flood of electricity that rippled through her body when Lyric touched her. “I know exactly where we are! We’re here. We’re home!”

  “You’re home,” Lyric corrected her.

  “Well, yeah... oh, look!” She tried to direct Lyric’s gaze to the small cottage that was coming into view. “That’s my house!”

  Her excitement suddenly changed to sadness; it was impossible not to notice the change in her disposition. “Are you alright?” Lyric asked.

  “Yeah.” But the crackle in her voice was evidence to the contrary. When the carriage slowed to a stop in front of the cottage, her heart suddenly sank. “I guess I’m okay. It’s just that I haven’t really thought about how... how empty it is right now.”

  “Do you want to get out of the carriage and have a look?”

  “I guess so,” Aurora said with a shrug. The realization that she would never see Molly was lashing at her like a fresh wound. The finality of death wasn’t something she took into consideration until she was standing in front of the cottage with memories flooding her mind.

  Lyric hopped out of the carriage and held open the door for her. “Come on. I’ll go with you.”

  “Is that...?” When she was out of the carriage, Aurora pointed to a hump in the ground. Around the hump, a few large stones were haphazardly arranged. “Is that where they buried her?”

  Lyric took her by the hand and led her over to the makeshift grave. Aurora stared at the hump for several moments. Her skin was prickled by a light breeze that rolled across her neck.

  “It’s strange,” she said with a sigh. “I never imagined myself staring at the grave of someone I love. It just seems... it’s just... it’s more horrible than anything I could have ever imagined.”

  Lyric laid a hand on Aurora’s shoulder. “I know.”

  “Have you ever lost someone you cared about?” Aurora asked, surprised that they had never discussed this before.

  “My parents. I lost both of them when I was very young.”

  Aurora wished she could throw her arms around him, but she didn’t want to risk an awkward moment. “I’m sorry to hear that. How old were you?”

  “Eleven. I’ve been an emperor since I was eleven.”

  “Wow. That must’ve been... hard.”

  “Not really. I had a lot of advisers to keep me on track,” Lyric explained. “If there’s anything bad about becoming an emperor at such a young age, it’s the fact that I’m horribly spoiled because of it.”

  In spite of the situation, Aurora chuckled. “You’re not so bad.”

  “Not so bad? Not so bad?!” Lyric exclaimed. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Pretty sure.” She winked at him over her shoulder. “Anyway, where’s Noxor?”

  “He stayed in the carriage. Maybe he didn’t feel welcome?”

  “Well, that’s silly. He should have come.” Aurora kept staring at Molly’s grave. The thought of Molly’s body lying under the dirt sent an odd ripple down her spine. “I’ll miss her.”

  “And I would have liked to meet her,” Lyric added. “I would have liked to meet everyone who had a hand in raising a little hellion like you.”

  “Hey!” Aurora spun around and shook a finger at him. “That’s not nice!”

  Lyric defensively threw up his hands. “Well... you shouldn’t have said I’m not that bad! That means I’ll have to try twice as hard to make a nuisance of myself.”

  Oh, Lyric, her thoughts whispered. You could never be a nuisance.

  Aurora reached into her pocket and pulled out a familiar figurine: the carved wooden bird. She laid it on top of the grave and slowly backed away.

  “What’s that?”

  “It was a gift that Molly gave me on my birthday,” Aurora explained with a sigh. “She said it was a good luck charm. I don’t know if it ever brought me good luck, but...”

  Lyric picked up the bird and held it out to Aurora. “Then you should keep it. I think your aunt would want you to hold onto it.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t know,” Lyric said with a shrug. “It’s just a feeling I get.”

  Another light breeze swept past her, lifting her hair, tickling her neck. Suddenly, Lyric’s notion made sense. If she had such a strong presence in life, why wouldn’t she have a strong presence in death?

  “Okay, Molly,” Aurora whispered, wiping a tear from her eye. She took the bird from Lyric’s hand and returned it to her pocket. “You win.”

  Chapter Ten

  I

  WHEN THE CARRIAGE STOPPED at the edge of an impassible swamp, Lyric shook his head. “No way!” he shouted. “No way! We’re supposed to get out and trudge through this?!”

  Noxor and Aurora were already out of the carriage; he was helping her extract her slipper from the muck. “Yes.”

  “No way,” Lyric repeated. “I see a castle in the distance, but it’s far away. I don’t know if I can brave a half-mile of quicksand and leeches and—” Lyric pointed to the body of water on the other side of the castle. “Why can’t we go by sea?”

  “Because our allies are coming by sea. We’re going to attack the castle from both sides.”

  With a sigh, Lyric stepped out of the carriage and landed in the mud. His boots were already stuck. “Okay, and why didn’t I get to sit in when the battle plans were being arranged? Obviously, I wouldn’t have wanted to be part of the swampland team.” He pointed an accusatory finger at Noxor. “You! You can float! This isn’t going to be hard for you then, is it?”

  With a roll of her eyes, Aurora charged forward. She was knee-deep in mud and murky water, but she had a point to prove. “Come on, Lyric!” she tried to encourage him. “It’s not so bad.”

  “I could always carry you, Lyric,” Noxor suggested politely.

  “No way! No way I’m going to let you carry me!” Lyric ran in the direction of the castle, determined to put some distance between them before Noxor could act on his crazy idea.

  The three of them plodded through the swamp, which was every bit as unpleasant as Lyric might have guessed. The water smelled rotten, there were dragonflies everywhere and—

  “Leeches,” Lyric murmured. “There really are leeches.”

  Aurora, who was a few paces ahead of Lyric, turned around. “Huh? How do you know? Do you see one?”

  Lyric caught up to Aurora, lifted her out of the water, and pulled a leech from the back of her neck. He let her get a good look at it before he tossed it away.

  Disgusted, Aurora laid a hand on her neck. “Gross! How did it get there?!”

  “I have no idea. They’re tricky little buggers, that’s for sure.”

  “Quiet,” Noxor suddenly cautioned them. “We’re getting closer to the castle, so we have to be vigilant. I expect them to welcome us at any moment.”

  “Welcome us,” Lyric scoffed. “That’s a funny way to put it. Yeah, I’m sure Medea will invite us in for some tea and biscuits. Do you think she has gingerbread cookies, because that sounds awfully good right now.”

  “Look.” Noxor pointed in the direction of the sky, where three dark figures were sailing upward—and moving toward them. “They’re here. Aurora, get behind us. I won’t let them lay a hand on you.”

  Aurora didn’t need to be told twice. She wasn’t too keen on playing the role of the helpless female, but considering the fact that she was unarmed, she had little choice.

  “This should be interesting,” Lyric croaked as he removed his sword from his sheath. “I’ve never had to do battle in leech-ridden waste water before.” The three hooded figures were closing in on them, swords drawn. “Uhhh, how do you beat one of these things, anyway? Aren’t you guys supposed to be immortal?�
�

  “Dismemberment. That’s the only way to defeat them.”

  “Dismemberment?!” Lyric shrieked. “Are you serious?! I’m supposed to lop off their arms and legs?!”

  He didn’t have time to think about it, because he found himself under attack. One of the wraiths descended on him; brandishing its sword, it sailed forward. Lyric blocked the blow and countered, but the wraith had the advantage of not being stuck in the mud—literally. It let out a wail, drifted over Lyric’s head, and tried to attack him from behind. Lyric ducked the underhanded assault and swiped at the wraith as it passed overhead.

  Meanwhile, Noxor was attempting to take on two opponents at once. At a safe distance, Aurora nibbled on her nails and watched the fray. Noxor was blocking strike after strike, slash after slash; he even managed to deliver his own blow every now and then. He was so skilled that she was sure he could take them on by himself, but that didn’t stop her from picking up a nearby log and lobbing it at one of his opponents. At least, she hoped it was one of his opponents and not Noxor himself. They were all dressed the same, so it was impossible to tell.

  When she realized she was more of a help than a hindrance, Aurora picked up whatever she could find—rocks, sticks—and threw it. She held her breath and hoped her makeshift artillery landed on the right mark.

  While Noxor gained the upper hand, Lyric was getting increasingly frustrated with a foe that kept soaring above his head. It came soaring down for an occasional strike, but it never stayed grounded long enough for Lyric to counter. He yelled at his opponent to fight fairly; of course, the wraith didn’t honor that request. Fed up with dirty tactics, Lyric decided to resort to some foul play of his own. He had a plan.

  When the wraith dove down to deliver a strike, Lyric blocked as usual. He had just a few seconds to make his move. Gripping his sword handle as tightly as he could, Lyric leapt onto the back of the wraith. It let out an earsplitting wail as it tried to shake him off, but Lyric held on. The violent shaking wasn’t enough to put a dent in Lyric’s determination. The wraith flew a few feet off the ground, but the weight of the unexpected passenger was more than it could carry, and it fell to the ground. Lyric landed on top if it, raised his sword, and severed one of the wraith’s limbs. With a scream, his opponent turned tail and fled back to the castle.

  Having felled his foe, Lyric turned to assist Noxor, only to find that there was no need. Together with Aurora, Noxor had already managed to disarm and dismember both of his attackers. All three wraiths howled in pain as they made their retreat.

  “Impressive,” Noxor commended Lyric, who was staring at his blood-stained sword with saucer-wide eyes. “You were fighting Adlai. That’s no small feat.”

  “Adlai?” Lyric’s lips were trembling. Though he’d trained for several years, he had never actually been involved in a real battle before. It didn’t occur to him that it was safe to sheath his sword, or that he could even blink. He was too shaken to move a muscle.

  “Yes. Adlai was our leader,” Noxor explained. “The fact that you were able to defeat him speaks strongly of your skill.”

  “Dismemberment.” Lyric shook his head with disbelief. He still couldn’t believe what had transpired, or how casually Noxor spoke about sawing off appendages. “So will they be limbless forever?”

  “No. Medea can use her magic to restore them to their original form, which is why we have to hurry. Look.” Noxor pointed at the body of water behind the castle, where a large ship was dropping anchor. “Our friends are here.”

  “Friends?” Aurora squinted as she stared at the ship. “Lyric, does that...?” She might have finished her sentence if not for the fact that Noxor took her by the arm and forced her to follow him. Lyric, having shaken off his shock, hurried after them as quickly as he could. True to form, he complained about the mud and muck until they were standing at the castle gate. Before anyone could inquire about how they would gain entrance, Noxor gripped the iron doors and pried them apart. Aurora and Lyric watched in awe.

  Noxor took her by the hand and pulled her forward. “Come on, quickly. With any luck, we can rescue your friends and get out of here before Medea finds us.”

  Once inside the castle, Aurora shuddered at the castle’s Gothic ambiance. It certainly wasn’t a homey place—not that she expected it to be. “Where exactly are we going?”

  “To the top of the tallest tower. I’d bet anything that Medea is keeping them there.”

  As they started to ascend the spiral staircase, a dissonance of shouting and clanging swords erupted outside. “What’s that?!” Aurora shrieked.

  “Our allies are engaging Medea’s reserves.”

  “Why... huff huff... haven’t we... wheeez... come across anyone inside the castle?” asked Lyric, panting as they climbed the stairs.

  “I don’t know, but I think it’s a good sign,” Noxor replied. “She must not know we’re inside.”

  “Or it’s a...huff huff... trap,” Lyric suggested darkly. “I mean, what if she’s just trying to lure Aurora inside?”

  “A good point. But if that’s the case, we’ll be ready.” Noxor laid a hand over the handle of his sword.

  “Uuuuuuuhhhh...”

  Aurora turned around. “Lyric, are you alright?”

  “Fine, thanks. But I might have to crawl the rest of the way up.” He wheezed. “Are we almost there?”

  “Incidentally, we are.” When Noxor ascended the top step, he reached down and dragged Lyric the rest of the way up. While Lyric worked on catching his breath, Noxor approached the door—the only door at the top of the tower—and attempted to pull it off its hinges.

  “I hate stairs,” Lyric moaned. “How’s that door coming along, Necksore?”

  With a mighty tug, Noxor extracted the door from its frame and set it aside. “I’ve got it.”

  “Well, that’s obvious.”

  “Lyric, stop messing around. Let’s go.” Aurora grabbed Noxor’s arm and hurried through the doorway. Lyric scraped himself off the ground and begrudgingly followed. The room was dark, so Noxor murmured a quick magic spell to light up the area. As soon as he did, Aurora gasped.

  “Meg!” Aurora’s eyes were pulled to the other side of the room, where a second woman was chained. “Mary!”

  The old women opened their eyes and let out a simultaneous wail of happiness. Aurora didn’t know who to run to first, so she waited for Noxor to break their chains, which he yanked from the wall as if they were mere threads. As soon as they were freed, Mary and Meg fumbled toward Aurora, and the three of them embraced. Aurora sobbed while they stroked her hair.

  “I-I’m so glad...” Aurora was wracked with tears, and her words were barely audible. “I’m so glad you’re both alright.”

  Mary buried her face against Aurora’s shoulder. “Are you alright? Have you been eating well? Are you hurt?”

  While it wasn’t his intention to interrupt their happy reunion, Noxor had to remind them that they weren’t quite in the clear. “We should get going.”

  But his warning came too late. Before they had a chance to mobilize, Medea stepped through the door. And she wasn’t alone.

  Bound, gagged, and paralyzed by Medea’s magic, Greta and Rachelle floated into the room. Their arms were suspended eerily above their heads, like marionettes.

  “Good afternoon, everyone.” Medea pulled out her wand and held it against Rachelle’s ivory neck. “Were you thinking about going somewhere?”

  II

  “I THOUGHT YOU LIKED me!” Rachelle shrieked. Though she had no control over her body, it seemed her mouth was working fine. “I thought you were my friend!”

  Medea laughed as the flames leapt from her wand, licking Rachelle’s neck. “My dear, that’s what I thought as well... until you escaped from the castle and joined my enemies.”

  “I just wanted to go home!” Rachelle cried. The flames were singeing her neck, burning. “I just want to go home!”

  Aurora exchanged glances with Lyric, who looked every bit as
worried as she did. Then she looked to Noxor for answers, but he was powerless to move. With hostages at her side, Medea knew they couldn’t act against her.

  “You’re an evil woman, Medea!” Meg shouted.

  “Oh, do you think so? Thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” Medea smiled at her recently freed captives. “Isn’t it tragic, ladies? You reunite with Aurora, and then you get to watch me kill her right in front of you! What could be better?” Medea turned to Aurora. “That is, I’m hoping Aurora is the one who dies. Princess Rachelle could be your substitute, if that’s what you want.”

  Aurora raked her hands through her hair. “No, Medea, don’t. Don’t hurt her! Please... let’s just... let’s just think about this...”

  “Oh, I’ve already given it plenty of thought!” Medea exclaimed. “If you step forward and submit yourself to me, I’ll let go of Rachelle.”

  “Submit myself to you?”

  “Walk toward me. Tell your friends to stay where they are. It’ll be your life in exchange for Rachelle and the child. You’re the only one who has to die, Aurora. Anything else would be a waste of life.”

  Aurora looked to Lyric again, but he didn’t say anything. He simply shook his head. Then she looked at Noxor, Meg, Mary—no one had an solution. There was only one thing she could do.

  “Alright, Medea,” Aurora conceded. “Alright. You can have me.”

  “Don’t,” Lyric whispered. “Don’t do this.”

  “You can have me,” Aurora repeated. She walked across the room and stood in front of Medea. “Just let them go.”

  “Actually...” Medea moved her wand from Rachelle’s neck and pointed it at Aurora. “I don’t think I’ll let them go. I think I’ll kill you first, and then I’ll decide what to do with them.”

  “But you—”

  Medea laughed. “Does the fact that I’m not letting them go really surprise you that much, Aurora? After I kill you, your friends are going to turn their swords on me. I’ll still need my bargaining chip. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Your problem is... you don’t think these things through. You’re too impulsive, and you’re way to trusting. Now that trust is going to get you killed.”