Embremere

by William Kenney

CHAPTER EIGHT

   

   

   

  It took them three hours before they reached the outskirts of Red Rim, Grivvin and Lyrica taking turns at the oars. Grivvin found himself lost in thoughts of her. Even after retrieving the chain and that which it was attached to, he did not want to leave her. He felt whole when he was with her, like he belonged. He wanted to stay and be part of her world, if she would have him. He no longer had a place to call home and although his father had reclaimed Wychanhaeme, it was not home to him. It was a ruined and empty place. At least here, in the Under, there was life in abundance and he would be able to spend every day with her. The thought of leaving her made him sick and he decided, then and there, that he would not leave her side.

  Some time later, he noticed Drowned Souls in the distance, the windows glowing yellow within and loud music reaching them as they passed. They made a stop at Waterwolf's workshop, he running inside to gather things and then returning with several large sacks, smiling and muttering to himself about riches.

  "I left a marker just off of Blackgull Point," Lyrica explained to Waterwolf as they drew closer.

  Grivvin recognized some of the buildings in the area and knew that Lyrica's home was nearby. This is where it all had started on that dark night. This is where his life had changed so dramatically from a life of spoiled luxury to one of survival in a strange, new world.

  Lyrica donned her goggles and scanned the area to the west, the lenses suddenly glowing in their frames.

  "Good thing I marked it. Just as I suspected, the storm shifted the thing far to the north. Row to the end of Blackgull and head due north. We're in luck. The marker is still there and that means it hasn't been disturbed. Our treasure awaits."

  Waterwolf began to pull hard against the oars, unable to contain his excitement. A chain as long as the lake was deep? That much metal could be turned into so many things. He could have it cut up and sell it off in small chunks. He would definitely make an impression on the local ladies.

  After reaching the end of the point, they turned the boat and rowed north. Lyrica cautioned them to slow as they closed in on the marker, her hand in the air to signal them to stop. Finally, she dropped her hand and they halted their forward progress.

  "All right, we're here. First things first. If you think you have the strength, Grivvin, I need help reaching the lake bottom. I want to see what's down there. What's so important that it needs to be held down by that huge chain?"

  "Yes, I can do it," Grivvin stated with a nod. "I think that Aerostaenum is the charm that would suit this situation. It increases the lung's capacity and should enable you to hold your breath much longer than normal."

  "All right. Let's do it," Lyrica said, facing him. "Go ahead, cast the charm."

  "Come closer," he said as he slid on the seat toward her. His cheeks grew slightly red and he became obviously uncomfortable as he began to explain.

  "I...uh...you see, this-"

  "What is it? What's wrong?" she asked.

  "This charm requires that I..."

  "Yes? That you what?"

  "I have to place my hand on your chest to cast Aerostaenum," he said, not meeting her eyes.

  "Yeah? So, go ahead."

  "No, no. You don't understand. It has to be skin on skin for the charm to be effective. The magic must pass from my palm through your chest and into your lungs."

  "That's what you're so worried about? You're blushing, actually," she said, wrinkling her forehead. "Give me your hand."

  She took his hand in hers and pulled him closer. She slid both of their hands up and under her shirt until his palm rested against the warm skin of her chest. He could feel the thudding of her heartbeat and swallowed hard.

  "That's not so bad, now, is it?" she asked, trying to help him relax.

  "I never said it would be bad, Lyrica. It's just..."

  "Don't be silly. It doesn't mean anything. Cast your charm."

  Grivvin closed his eyes and concentrated on Lyrica's breath. He became acutely aware of the air around them and that which she inhaled, then exhaled. He began to chant the Wychan phrase, the heat rising in his palm as the magic began to build.

  Lyrica's eyes flashed panic for a moment as the charm began to take effect. She opened her mouth as if to gasp for air, but found that she could not.

  "It feels strange, Grivvin," she said, her voice a mere whisper.

  "Don't worry, it's natural. Your lungs will remain filled with air until the spell breaks. You don't need to breathe."

  "But...it feels odd not to," she said, placing her hands over his.

  "I know. I've performed the charm on myself. Of course, back then, I didn't have the power that I have now. You'd better hurry, Lyrica. I can't be sure how long it will last."

  "She nodded and stood, the boat rocking as she did so. Waterwolf stared at her in anticipation, eager to have his share of the bounty. Her skin gave off a slight blue glow in the dim light of the Under, the magic now saturating every vein and vessel in her body. She turned and glanced at Grivvin for reassurance as she took the eel-globe from Waterwolf. She fastened the globe to her wrist with a thin, leather strap, its light glowing brighter as the container was tousled about, then dove into the lake with hands outstretched.

  Instinctively, she tried to take a gulp of air before she went below the surface, but it was not possible or necessary. Soon her body adjusted to the charm and though the feeling was unusual, it was not uncomfortable in the least. She kicked hard, pulling herself deeper with long strokes of her arms. The water was still quite turbulent, the incessant storm still covering Embremere and the surrounding territories, but she made quick progress.

  Just as she began to relax, a dark shadow caught her eye and she threw her body to the side to avoid it. It was the thick chain that Grivvin had mistaken for a killer serpent days before, still being whipped about by the waves. She headed straight for it and upon reaching it, used its links to pull herself down faster toward the bottom. It seemed to take an eternity, the blackness of the deep swallowing her, the pressure in her ears now becoming painful.

  Suddenly, within the greenish glow of the eel-globe, she could see a large rectangular shape, like a box resting on the lake bottom. She settled next to it, her boots sinking into the soft sediment that covered the bed beneath. The chain had, at one time, been completely wrapped around the thing, sealing it closed, the broken remains of a massive lock still hanging there from an iron hook. Whatever was inside was undoubtedly valuable and it belonged to them.

  It was covered with a layer of muck and she began to wipe it away with her hand, revealing a smooth wooden surface. As she removed the mud from its top, she could feel raised areas like carvings within the wood and she began to work faster, knowing that this could reveal the purpose of the box. Along one side she found metal hinges, still intact and seemingly made from a yellowish metal.

  Gold?

  She went back to the lid of the container and began to sweep both arms across its surface, clearing as much sediment away as possible. She pulled back a bit, extending the eel-globe to illuminate the thing. There upon the lid was an elaborate carving of a Sailfish, the symbol of the royals of Embremere.

  What is this thing? A treasure chest lost by the nobles? Perhaps there was a shipwreck and this container had sunk with the rest of it. The current could have swept it into the Under.

  One heavy lock still secured the lid, holding it firm despite Lyrica’s tugging and twisting of it. She pulled her knife from its sheath and wedged it into the space between the lid and the crate, trying to pry it apart to no avail. Disappointed, she took one last look at the thing and pushed hard off the bottom, rising quickly through the water toward the surface. She came up next to the boat, reaching up to steady herself against it.

  “We’ve got to raise that thing. It’s a royal chest! It’s got all of the marking and its secured with a lock. There’s something important in there, I know it,” she said, her voice still bea
ring an odd quality.

  “Woooo!” Waterwolf called out upon hearing the news. “Let’s go!” He threw his many sacks out on the floor of the boat and began removing items from them. There were several lengths of heavy rope, long thin tubing and four large, leathery bags. From the last sack, he pulled out a round sphere-like object roughly the size of a human head. He began to connect all of these objects into a complex contraption, humming all the while.

  “What is all of that stuff?” Grivvin asked, marveling at the speed at which Waterwolf assembled it.

  “Oh, this? Well, you see, it’s put together from old swim bladders. We take the empty bladders under and tie them to the chest. With this thing here,” he kicked at the sphere. “We can inflate each of the bladders, hopefully causing the chest to rise to the surface.”

  “Wait, you’ve only got four of the bladders?” Lyrica asked.

  “Yeah, why? Isn’t that enough?” said Waterwolf.

  “I don’t know. The chest is big and with the added weight of the chain…”

  “Well, that’s all I have. We don’t have much choice now. We have to try,” Waterwolf explained, handing the assembly to Lyrica. “If it’s not enough, I guess we’ll have to come back.”

  “I really don’t want to leave the chest unattended, now that I know what it is,” she replied with a frown. “Let’s give it a shot.”

  She dove back under, pulling the bladders, ropes and tubing behind her. Eventually, she reached the bottom once more and began to tie each of the bladders to the chain where it fastened to the chest. In short time, she had all of them attached and fished the end of the tubing into the first bladder. She then gave a good tug on the tubing to alert Waterwolf of her readiness.

  In the boat, Waterwolf stood and placed his foot upon the sphere and started stomping on it, forcing air through the tube.

  “I hope this works. What good’s a treasure if you can’t reach it?” he asked.

  Grivvin found himself fascinated at the system that they had developed to raise something from the lake bottom. Below, Lyrica had filled the first bag and had now moved on to the second. She was having her doubts as to whether the bladders would provide enough lift to get the chest off of the ground. The second bag expanded, the bubbles from the end of the tube filling it to its limit. She moved on to the next and quickly had it full as well.

  The chest still showed no signs of movement, regardless of the bladder's buoyancy, resting heavily in the sediment below. Lyrica affixed the last of the bags, pulling the rope tight and shoved the tube in its opening. The bag inflated and rose, pulling at the rope as she peered down at the chest. The water grew murky suddenly as the chest moved slightly, disturbing the lake bed.

  We're almost there! If we only had one more bladder, we could lift it out of the water.

  Cursing inside, she swam quickly to the surface again, spitting as she emerged.

  "It's not enough. The chest moved, but barely. One more bag would do it," she said.

  "Well, I don't have one more bag. These things are not easy to come by, you know? There has to be another way to get more air down there. Are you sure you've got every bladder completely full?" Waterwolf asked.

  "Yes. There's no way to force mo- " She stopped for a moment, her eyes opening wide. "Wait! Grivvin, would your charm work on the air bladders? You made my lungs hold more air than they are physically capable. Why couldn't you do the same for them?"

  Grivvin thought for a moment and could think of no reason why the plan would not work.

  "The charm actually affects the air itself, giving it more energy, if you will. The air becomes more potent and strong. Yes, it should work," he said with a nod.

  "I'll go back down and guide the tube," Lyrica said and was gone in a flash.

  Waterwolf soon felt the familiar tug, alerting them that she was ready and Grivvin began the charm, his hands grasping the tube. It did not take long for the air to change, huge bubbles rising to the surface as if the lake had been set to boil. A few minutes passed and the first of the bladders appeared on top of the water, immediately followed by the others and Lyrica, the black shape of the chest hanging just underneath.

  "Gods..." Waterwolf exclaimed as he saw the shape of the massive chain. "You weren't joking..."

  "Quick, pull it over to the pier," Grivvin urged. "If the charm wears off, it'll drop straight to the bottom again."

  Waterwolf jumped in alongside Lyrica and the two of them towed the chest, pulling on the chain as Grivvin rowed the boat toward the pier. Luckily, they were in a quiet part of Red Rim and there were no bystanders looking on.

  It took perhaps ten minutes, but they managed to pull and push the chest to the pier. Waterwolf tied off one of the ropes, securing it to the wooden supports that rose up out of the water. He climbed out and quickly ran down the pier to a loading area for watercraft and returned with a pulley, which he fastened to the edge of the pier. Boats could be loaded and unloaded at any point along the platforms in the Under and these pulleys were everywhere. Locking it in place, Waterwolf dropped the hooked line down and Lyrica looped one of the ropes around it. Grivvin joined Waterwolf on the pier, having anchored the boat, and together they began turning the crank to lift the chest. Even with the help of the pulley system they had to strain to raise it, but eventually it reached a level where they could maneuver it onto the pier.

  Lyrica climbed up to join them as they sat back, gasping from the exertion.

  "We did it," she said with a huge smile, her hair slicked back against her head. "Look at this thing. I told you it was a royal chest. Look at the markings on it."

  "You're right. There's no doubt where it came from. Now, what's inside?" Grivvin asked as he stood and walked over to it. Much of the mud had been washed away as the chest had risen through the water and the royal crest and other symbols were readily visible.

  "Let's find out," Waterwolf said, jamming the tip of a sword behind the metal lock. He leaned on it with all of his body weight, then pulled to one side. The iron plate that held the chest closed bent and pulled away from the wooden face.

  "Again, it's working," Lyrica said.

  Waterwolf repeated the process and finally the plate broke free, the lock clattering to the pier. The three of them looked at each other, their eyes lit with excitement, then, together they put their fingertips under the edge of the lid.

  "These hinges are gold, Lyrica. Did you see that?" Waterwolf asked.

  She nodded with a broad grin.

  "Ready?" she asked of them. Together, they began to slide the heavy lid back with anticipation. As soon as the chest was open, they knew something was wrong, for a horrible stench reached their nostrils, causing each of them to stand and back away.

  "Ugh, what is in that thing?" Waterwolf asked, his arm across his nose. Grivvin moved forward, holding his breath and placed the heel of his boot against the edge of the lid. With one hard shove, the lid slid off and fell, leaning against the back side of the chest. He leaned down to look inside, for it was still very dim in the Under, his eyes nearly watering from the smell. Suddenly, to his shock, he thought he could see the shape of a body inside, wrapped in a cloth.

  "Lyrica, bring your light over here," he asked of her. She reluctantly came closer, extending her arm where the eel-globe was still fastened. Grivvin pulled away slightly to allow the green light to reach the contents of the chest.

  "It's a body," he announced, standing up and stepping away.

  "No, Grivvin. It's two bodies," Lyrica said as she bent down to study the interior of the box. She reached inside and took the fabric of the cloth between her fingers, pulling it down and away from where the corpses heads should be. "Two girls," she said as their faces were revealed. They were in perfect condition, their skin flawless and pale. There were no signs of decomposition or decay that she could see. She pulled the burial cloth away and tossed it on the pier, exposing their bodies, dressed in bright blue satin, jewels about their necks.

  One of the
m seemed to have something in her hand and Lyrica, fighting the urge to gag, reached out and opened the girl's stiff fingers. She jumped up with a gasp.

  "Grivvin!" she called out.

  "What is it?" he asked as he moved to join her. She could stand it no longer and walked away. He knelt there and looked inside.

  His heart sank as he recognized them.

  The bodies of his sisters lie dead before him.

  No.

  The youngest, her hand now upturned, displayed the Wychan symbol upon her palm. Grivvin felt his throat tighten, the tears beginning to well in his eyes.

  Gods, no.

  Raya.

  Jynn.

  No!

  Finally, he found his voice and let out a horrible scream, the sound cracking with utmost grief. His cry echoed throughout the Under, reverberating from the platform above until he broke down into heavy sobs.

  It can't be.

  It just cannot be. Please, dear gods.

  It's not them. They're supposed to be in Aesen!

  He let his head fall forward into the casket and grabbed their hands in his, crying into their dresses. Lyrica and Waterwolf stood by, their moist eyes cast downward, their hearts reaching out to Grivvin, feeling the torturous grief that he must be experiencing.

  Lyrica saw Grivvin's head raise up suddenly as his sobbing came to an abrupt halt.

  "No," he stated. "They will not get away with this. They have all but destroyed my family. Now they will pay!"

  She could see Grivvin's hands begin to glow with Wychan flame where they touched the chest. Something terrible was building inside of him. She could hear him mumbling as he knelt there on the pier and feel an electricity crackling in the air around them.

  "Grivvin?" What are you doing?" she asked.

  "Back away!" he shouted in a voice not entirely his. Just then, the whole chest became illuminated, the bright fire engulfing the bodies and Grivvin as well. He stood, his hands outstretched and his head thrown back as his voice grew louder.

  "Come sisters. There is one last thing to do. I have the power now. Father has unlocked the secret that kept us weak. It is time to repay those that have so wronged us," he said.

  Waterwolf looked on in horror as he began to slowly make his way toward the nearest alleyway. He witnessed, a lump growing in his throat, the transparent specters of the girls gradually rise up and stand before their brother. Their forms were shifting, their wavering outlines dancing in the air as they regarded Grivvin with unnatural eyes. There was very little wind at that moment, but their dark hair undulated around their heads as if acted upon by an unseen current.

  "Go now, my sisters. You know who they are. Find them. Tonight, vengeance is yours. Tonight ends their reign. Tonight...the Wychan return to Embremere!"

  The shimmering apparitions gazed up at the platform that supported the whole of Embremere and rose, floating up from the pier and passing through into the city above.

   

   

   

   

   

  Many of the residents of the city were out that evening, the rain having lessened to a light mist. They passed to and fro, on their way to dinner or home for the night after work. No one expected that which was about to occur.

  The Frazett family strolled casually along Cinderfin Avenue, heading for Magin's Ladle, a wonderful new restaurant specializing in sweet rosecrab. As they passed Munberry Street, an odd light caught their eyes, turning the entire group to the west.

  The two ghostly forms moved toward them, hovering just above the surface of the street, their eyes wide and colorless. Their mouths opened then, impossibly wide and most horrendous of screams issued forth, causing the Frazett's to cover their ears and drop to their knees. A sudden blast of icy air passed through them, chilling them to the bone as the spirits passed into their bodies and out the other side, on their way to the castle.

   

   

   

   

   

  Truggan stood alone on night watch, leaning against the high wall of court building number three, oil lantern clutched in his hand. He had always hated working the evening shift and tonight was no exception. He pondered sneaking off to grab and hour's nap on the docks just a few minute's walk to the south. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall.

  Then, the sound reached him, an ungodly wail that began to build in the distance. His eyes popped open and he stepped away from the building to get a good look down the street.

  "What in the name of-" he started, but the scream silenced him as it grew much louder. He then became aware of the glow that moved closer and the sudden appearance of the ghostly figures that floated toward him at an alarming rate.

  "Oh, gods!" he muttered and turned on his heel, running for the door of the court building. He threw himself against it, grabbing the handle and pulling with all of his might. His heart was pounding with fear for he recognized the spirits and knew that they had come for him.

  The door would not open, somehow frozen in place and immovable. He spun then to face them, his breath coming in quick gasps.

  And they were there, just in front of his face, the two girls that he had taken to the cathedral by order of the prince.

  "It wasn't me! I just took you there, I didn't kill you! Why? Why have you come for me?" he begged, dropping to his knees on the door stoop. He could feel the intense cold that emanated from them, as if it reached out to draw him in.

  "I know, I know. I shouldn't have gone along with it, but what choice did I have? I knew what they were going to do...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what happened to you. Please, have mercy."

  The specter of Raya extended her arms as if to embrace him, smiling. Truggan managed a slight smile as well, a ray of hope filling him. Perhaps he had convinced them to spare him? They realized he was innocent.

  Suddenly, Raya's smile became a disturbing and horrible thing, her mouth stretching open past its limits and her fang-like teeth protruding from her jaws. She rushed forward and engulfed him, enveloping him in her arms, dress wrapping around his body.

  Truggan could feel the life being sapped from his body as she paralyzed him. It felt as though his very soul was being torn out from inside as weakness overtook him. He tried to scream for help, but only a pitiful moan could be heard as he dropped face-first onto the street, dead, the lantern shattering and spreading flaming oil along the street.

   

   

   

   

   

  Thax and Morigen sat together in the barracks, tankards of ale upon the table, a game of Rune-tiles spread out before them. They had stopped playing some time ago, falling into a lengthy conversation about the shipping docks and the thieves that they had recently apprehended there.

  "They're becoming too brave, these criminals," Morigen said. "We guards are too few to keep them under control and after seeing those from the Under in Embremere, who knows how many more may come to loot our city?"

  "Believe me, Morigen, Adriul will find our beloved Grivvin down there and teach all of the Underdwellers a lesson. He is not one to trifle with. I doubt very much that we will have more visitors from down below," Thax said with a chuckle and a gulp of ale. "Besides, put your worries aside. The prince has been successful at last. So many times, he has tried to create his own Wychan bloodline and so many times, failed. Now that she has been born, the nobles will have magic on their side."

  "Aye, that is true. And when she becomes a woman, she can give birth to more with Wychan blood, yes?" asked Morigen.

  "Indeed. I remember their last failure. It was horrible. I was given the task of destroying the...things. They were monsters, Morigen. I was told to have them taken away by ship to the mainland. They wanted me to burn them in Aesen, in some sacred temple or something. Bah, why waste my time? The creatures were dead. Why bother?"

  "What did you do with them?" asked Morigen, rearranging the Rune-tiles upon the table.
/>
  "I dumped them into the Under!" Thax replied with a laugh.

  "You probably poisoned the lake, you fool," Morigen said with a smile. A high-pitched sound reached his ears and he turned to look at the closed barracks door. "Did you hear-"

  The room was filled with an unearthly glow as Raya and Jynn passed through the door, their long flowing gowns trailing behind them in tatters.

  Morigen did not have a chance to utter another word as Jynn dove into his body, disappearing for a moment.

  "No. Morigen?" Thax said as he backed away across the room. Morigen met his eyes for the span of a heartbeat and then his body was ripped in half as Jynn ripped her way through it. Thax could only stare at the bloody remains there on the floor, completely stunned. He reached for his sword, pulling it swiftly from its sheath.

  "We killed you, Wychan. How is this possible? Your magic was never strong enough for this!" he shouted, his back finally meeting the wall. He held his sword firmly in both hands, aiming the point at the spirits that hovered before him. "You can't come back! Prince Kelt told us you could never come back!"

  He swung his blade like a madman, slicing and stabbing at them with no effect. Their forms simply shifted and gathered together once more as they regarded him with wicked smiles upon their faces.

  "It doesn't matter! Kill me or not, we've won. You've all been destroyed. The only Wychan left in Embremere is the prince's daughter! In the end, she will rule, a Wychan with royal blood. She is not weak like your family was, no. She is like the Wychan of old!" Thax shouted, defying them even at death's door.

  They came at him as one, their unforgiving claws tearing the flesh away from his bones, their power melting the very soul away from his body. He screamed, the sound echoing throughout the barracks until his voice grew hoarse and was no more. He collapsed onto the floor, his skin in crimson ribbons, his mouth stretched wide as his eyes glazed.

   

   

   

   

   

  Prince Kelt sat at his beautiful wooden desk, a tall stack of papers in front of him and a quill in his hand. Signing decrees and granting licenses for businesses within the city had made his eyes tired. He wiped the tip of the quill clean, replacing it in its leather case and pushed himself away from the desk.

  "Isn't there anyone else that can do this mundane work? I grow so tired of these menial tasks," he said as he threw himself onto the plush bed next to his wife.

  "Shhh...you'll wake her," she said, looking up from her reading. "She needs her rest."

  "Very true, darling. Our little girl will one day wield more power than anyone has in thousands of years. We are raising a goddess."

  "I wouldn't go that far," Princess Aliah replied.

  The door to the bedchamber burst open, a portly guard in a leather waistcoat rushing in, out of breath.

  "Your grace, your grace! Something is in the castle! Some-" he shouted and fell to the floor in a heap, his heart frozen.

  Through the open doorway, came Raya and Jynn, their bodies extended toward the prince as if they swam through the air. He stood from the bed, palms facing the ghosts, shaking his head.

  "What is this? Is this some cruel joke?" he asked, his hands shaking.

  "Kelt! Get the baby out!" Aliah cried as she jumped toward the cradle. The ghosts moved past her as if she did not exist, heading straight for the prince. She scooped up the child, who had now begun to cry, having been awakened by the shouts of her father.

  "It doesn't matter!" shouted the prince. "It's done! You're all dead and now our precious Nia will rule. She will command the power that eluded you for so long. Your family was useless. You lived among us for too long. Without the magic, what are you but peasants? Just like the peasants, I spit on you!" he said, sticking his chest out.

  Raya and Jynn swept him up, by each arm and drove him through the window, glass shattering and slicing his flesh. They were immediately outside, in the sky above Embremere, his body suspended as high as the castle towers. They carried him in this way until they had reached the market square, filled with people on a busy night. The crowd below, noticing the distinct light of the spirits in the air above them, raised their eyes, curiously.

  People began to shout and run for cover. Mothers hid their children. The ghosts held him there for all to see, as he shouted profanities and at once, they pulled in opposite directions, tearing his body apart. They let the pieces fall, to the horror of those in the square and then dropped down, passing through the platform, into the Under once more.

   

   

   

   

   

  Grivvin sat at the edge of the pier, his legs hanging over the water, his mind lost in memories of his family. Lyrica was next to him, her hand rubbing his back as she tried to comfort him.

  “Was I wrong?” he asked, suddenly.

  “About what?” she responded.

  “I brought them back. I passed through the veil and used the power of the Spiral to pull them back across the edge. I forced their ghosts back into this world to exact my vengeance,” he stated, eyes on the waves just below his feet.

  “I would have done the same,” she said. “Your sisters would do the same for you. No, you weren’t wrong to do it. The royal family deserve it, for what they’ve done.”

  Above they could hear the alarms sounding in Embremere as people raced to extinguish the fire that had erupted outside of court building number three. It seemed that the city was in chaos and this gave Grivvin satisfaction, for he found himself despising the entire Over as he sat there. The spirits of his sisters appeared again, floating above the royal chest that they had emerged from. He stood, with Lyrica’s help, and walked to them, a look of extreme sadness upon his face.

  “Raya, Jynn…” he started. “I wish I could change all of this. I wish I could bring you back to life. Together, we could join father in Old Embremere and be a family again. I know that is not possible. Even in their prime, the Wychan could not break the laws of death’s door.”

  “I will rebuild our order, I promise you and the Wychan will once again be respected. Go now, my sisters and be at peace. You may rest easy now. Those that have committed crimes against you are dead.”

  The ghosts extended their hands and placed them on each of his cheeks. For a moment, he felt the chill of death replaced by a comforting warmth as they smiled at him. They, then began to fade, disappearing before his watering eyes. He touched both of his cheeks, wishing that their touch would return, but it was not to be.

  With Lyrica’s assistance, he replaced the heavy lid on the chest and turned to find Waterwolf staring at him in shock.

  “I need you to ready a funeral pyre. Can you do that?” he asked.

  “Sure, of course,” Waterwolf answered.

  “We will set them adrift in the boat, where we found them and burn it all,” Grivvin explained.

  “Wait. Burn my boat as well? You’re gonna cost me another boat?” Waterwolf asked.

  “Wolf,” Lyrica said. “Do as he says.”

   

   

   

   

   

  An hour later, Waterwolf sat grumbling as the boat and everything in it was consumed by flame just off of Blackgull Point.

  “What now, Grivvin?” Lyrica asked, watching the fire reflected in his eyes.

  “I saw it all. When my sisters touched my face, all that occurred in Embremere passed to me. The princess has somehow given birth to a Wychan child and they both still live. They plan to corrupt her, Lyrica. They wish to turn the natural abilities of the Wychan into a force for evil and use it to control the neighboring cities.”

  “You can’t go back. They’ll kill you on sight,” she replied. He nodded.

  “My only hope is to return to Old Embremere, study what my father has uncovered and become stronger. I fear that there is a battle coming. The royals will not be satisfied with one Wychan child. If they’ve somehow
discovered a way to create them, there are more on the way,” Grivvin said with a faraway look.

  “Take me with you,” she said and kissed him on the cheek.

  “I was hoping you would say that,” he said and turned her head to kiss her on the lips.

  “How soon do we leave?” she asked.

  “As soon as possible, Lyrica,” he said, taking her hand and walking toward the nearest street.

  “We have to prepare,” Grivvin said with a last look at the burning pyre.

  “There is a war coming.”

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  THE END