Reign of Darkness

by Michaela Riley Karr

  Rachel yelled after him, but it was no use. Sam trotted and slid down the deck toward the nearest lifeboat, starting to bellow something to the extent of getting off the lifeboats, his Kidek bandana clearly visible even in the night. Even though he never used the word “Rounan,” it was obvious who was and who wasn’t. Those who weren’t gawked at him like he was insane from their perches in their lifeboat, while those who were began to begrudgingly obey. Rachel took off after him after a quick look to Jaspen.

  I was in the middle of wondering how on Nerahdis we would get these people out of here without the lifeboats even if we somehow did manage to fight Rhydin off when the clouds above suddenly began to churn angrily and glow purple. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as my senses overpowered me with Rhydin’s darkness.

  I screamed, “Sam!”

  Amethyst lightning cracked open the sky with both light and the sound of a hundred trees exploding. My ears rang too loud to hear the subsequent groan of the ship beneath our feet as it snapped in half. The back end of the ship, which had been slowly rising out of the ocean due to the sinking front, suddenly fell backwards back into the ocean as its innards crumbled and burned.

  Luke leapt toward me as the gaping holes of every floor beneath us rapidly filled with water, which sent the deck tilting in the opposite direction. I tried to turn my head to find Sam or Rachel, but it was no use. What was left of the ship blocked my vision. Soon, the angle was so drastic that our feet slipped out from under us, and Luke and I were sent sliding feet first along what was left of the deck straight into the dark, watery depths below.

  I started kicking fiercely as the warm, tropical water enveloped us, trying to keep mine and my children’s two heads above water without the use of my arms, and Luke began to wail, his head disappearing several times before I realized why he’d been so nervous. He couldn’t swim at all.

  Luke panickily thrust himself out of the water with an appearance from his beautiful, shard wings, but their glow rippled off the water around us like a beacon. We only had seconds before the rest of the ship, which was currently hiding us from sight, sank beneath the surface of the water. My legs burned like fire trying to keep us afloat. My children screamed. I couldn’t reach for anything. For the first time, the possibility of my drowning crossed my mind.

  My flailing Ranguvariian companion used his flying spell for the briefest of moments longer to push himself toward a large scrap of wood from the wreckage, which looked to be the remains of part of the roof of the captain’s quarters judging by the mildew-stained shingles. His wings disappeared just as the rest of the ship went under, and he managed to kick the wood back toward me even as he clung to it for dear life.

  I rapidly pushed Kylar and Rayna out of the water and on top of the shingles, which in turn shoved my own head under the water. I surfaced and gasped for breath as I threw my arms over the wood, allowing my exhausted legs to go limp as I tucked each of my arms around my crying children, urging them to settle so we wouldn’t be found.

  Luke seemed to be even more terrified now, even though he wasn’t actively drowning anymore. His eyes darted back and forth along the water’s edge, the color of a lemon. He stuttered over and over, “In the water, in the water… We are going to be killed! They’ll kill us from below!”

  I breathed slowly now, trying to steady my anxious nerves, and hushed him, “Luke, everything’s fine. There’s nothing in the water but us and some fish. Just relax. As soon as Rhydin leaves, you can fly us to Caark just like planned.”

  Luke shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut. Despite my speech, I couldn’t help but glance to the warm water again myself. Were there sharks in the eastern ocean? Or were there other creatures in this world I didn’t know about?

  Rhydin studied the foaming waters several hundred feet below him fiercely. The Einanhi upon which he rode, a strange mix of a black stallion and a majestic eagle, snorted angrily as it hovered in place just beyond the cloud cover. Rhydin had come to stop this ship and its passengers from leaving Nerahdis and his empire, as he had done with quite a few before it. Anyone trying to leave was highly likely to be a Rounan after all, which necessitated swift attention. Although, he certainly hadn’t expected to come across Kidek Samton Greene of all people.

  Rhydin’s pale fingers itched along his black leather reins. He studied every swell and piece of debris, looking for any inkling that a person was hiding there instead of in one of the lifeboats. It was taking all of his willpower to remain where he was, out of sight of people whose support he still required, instead of down among the waves combing the wreckage for a certain pair of Allyen twins. He had no proof they were here of course, but if the Kidek was present, Allyen Linaria couldn’t be too far behind.

  A light broke out upon the water below Rhydin, and he didn’t have to turn to know what it was. It was a much larger ship filled with his imperial forces, arriving just in time to save the day. Of course, only the Gornish on those lifeboats would be allowed to return to Nerahdis. The Rounans on the other hand… Rhydin chuckled. At least the people’s absolute terror of magic still supported the extermination of those troublesome folk.

  Cheers rippled forth from the two lifeboats as the imperial ship reached them and let down a ladder. Rhydin smirked as praises for his name drifted upward to where he flew, but he forcibly moved himself into a position to transport away from the scene of the crime, no matter how much of every fiber of his being urged him downward to find the Allyens.

  All in due time, he thought to himself. If they happened to survive the sinking, he could have forces to Caark in a matter of weeks. The Chancellor of Caark had been left undisturbed for far too long anyway, even if Rhydin didn’t much care to give any attention to Caark in the long run. Once the Allyens were in his grasp, he could rest easy that his reign was ensured for the rest of time.

  “You idiot! You’ve ruined everything!” Rachel yelled as she sputtered water and grasped the remnants of a door with all the strength she had.

  Sam rolled his eyes. Here we go again, he thought as he treaded water. “I couldn’t just let them die! I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

  Rachel groaned loudly, “I know, I know! Trust me, I wish it was different. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t particularly like having to be the bad guy all the time…” She tapered off, staring sadly at her door. “I would have saved them too if I could have. But now, we’re just worse off than we were before.”

  Sam turned in the water toward something behind him that Rachel had nodded at. Rapidly approaching was an even larger ship than the one they had embarked on, and this one looked like it was made of sheet metal instead of rickety wood. Rhydin’s imperial banners waved from every mast, and hatred bubbled up in Sam’s throat.

  The Rounans who had gotten off the lifeboats had scattered in the wreckage, and Sam wasn’t sure where they all ended up. But if any were still in those lifeboats, their death sentences would be signed as soon as Rhydin’s ship picked them up. And there was really nothing he could do this time as a sitting duck in the water. Sam had to turn away when the people in the lifeboats began to cheer. It hurt too much.

  After a few moments of blocking out any sounds around him, Sam noticed that Rhydin’s presence disappeared from his senses. Rachel announced the same and gracefully sprouted the wings of her flying spell. She linked her arms under Sam’s and around his shoulders, and scooped him out of the water like he weighed half of what he did. She mumbled in his ear, “If I see any Rounans in the water, we’ll pick them up and take them with us.”

  Sam nodded quietly, feeling deflated now. His spirits arose a little at the sight of Lina, Kylar, and Rayna in the arms of Luke, as well as Evan, Cayce, and their child safe and sound with Jaspen and James. The Ranguvariians hovered low, close to the waves, for several minutes as they searched the wreckage for survivors.

  They did ultimately pluck three Rounans from the water, the man Sam had given orders to as well as a young woman with a small boy. Th
ere was no one else. Sam tried to keep the three Rounans calm and answered the fewest required questions of whom the Ranguvariians were and that they were against Rhydin as well, but the weary group of castaways quickly fell silent as the Ranguvariians broke off their search and began flying east toward Caark.

  More so than ever, Sam felt like a failure.

  Hours ticked by as slow as molasses. Numbness had started in my fingers and slowly trickled up my wrists and forearms to the point where I really had no feeling left in my arms at all, which kept my almost-dried-out children safe and warm even as we flew. I was rather sure Luke had lost all feeling in his arms as well, between me and the small, Rounan boy in his other arm. Now I understood why the Ranguvariians had wanted us to get to Caark by ship.

  The five Ranguvariians took turns flying in a formation that reminded me of the geese that soared over our heads to the south every winter. It appeared like the tip of an arrow, where the person at the point was exerting the most effort while those behind him or her could glide more and conserve their energy. They would swap out leaders from one of the back people maybe every thirty minutes. At first, this helped me to keep track of the time, but instead, I quickly lost sense of how many times everyone had served as leader.

  At some point, the eastern horizon began to glow pink as a rose. It burned against my bleary eyes, and I realized how much I’d been walking the line between sleep and wakefulness. I shook my head in a sad attempt to rouse myself, but all around us was still nothing but empty ocean. The black waters sluggishly took on the hues from the sky, a light pink before a soft, golden yellow took its place. It was beginning to feel like the entire world had vanished beneath the rolling swells.

  I looked around at my companions. Evan’s head was bobbing as he struggled to stay awake in Jaspen’s arms, his tiny son curled into him, almost invisible from this distance. Cayce diligently sat as upright as possible in James’s grasp, her lavender curls springing in every direction with the salt and humidity of the ocean just below.

  Sam appeared the most awake of anyone as he stared down at the ocean broodily from his perch with Rachel, and from him, I looked to the other two Rounans we had managed to save in the lanky Bartholomiiu’s grip. They both still looked absolutely terrified, but they were alive and that’s what mattered. While I wished for Sam’s sake we could have saved more, even I knew that our Ranguvariians probably couldn’t have carried any more.

  “There,” I heard Luke breathe in relief, “finally.”

  A dark smudge had appeared on the line that divided the sky and sea, right underneath where the brilliant, white sun was starting its day. The tension in my shoulders suddenly lifted. It could only be Caark. The island republic that was part of Nerahdis, and yet not, due to some weird exception that dated back hundreds of years before my birth.

  As we grew closer, my eyes widened at the sight of tall, thin trees that only had leaves at the very tippy tops and coasts of pristine, gilded sand that put Auklia’s shorelines to shame. My curiosity mounted with every passing minute as more of Caark became visible, and I found myself wondering what the people would be like and how they compared to the Three Kingdoms.

  I also wondered how long we had before Rhydin sent his troops after us now that he had seen Sam.

  Frederick paused on his trek to wipe his brow. Summer was coming along rapidly in Lunaka, a season which was truly defined by its humidity more than anything else, although the thin mountain air did assuage that a mite. The former prince looked over his shoulder at the small cottage nestled into the rocky face of the mountain, almost completely camouflaged now. Cornflower, his teenage sister, was home caring for his son, Dominick, while he did his daily walk.

  It was slightly ironic now. Totally inconvenient at first. Frederick had once written Lina how he didn’t understand her desire to work, and now he had found himself in the very strange position of having to.

  As a Royal, money had never held any meaning for Frederick. It was all the same. If he wanted food, he went downstairs to the dining room and a four-course meal awaited him. If he wanted to go somewhere, he simply took his horse from the royal stables or borrowed his father’s carriage. If he required new clothes, a master tailor would visit him in his chambers, collect his measurements, and send a new wardrobe to him within the week. It didn’t occur to Frederick until he was much older than these things cost money for everyone else on Nerahdis. Yet, someone in the Royal household ensured that the cooks, stable boys, and tailors were paid accordingly from the bountiful Royal vault.

  It was an entirely new experience to leave Lunaka Castle with only what was in his pocket and to learn how much it cost to live. This first happened when he left after Duunzer’s attack and lived in the cottage between Lun and the Rounan Compound, although their one servant was typically the one who took Frederick’s money to Lun and acquired what they needed.

  Again, when Frederick traveled to Auklia to assist King Daniel with the running of his kingdom, he got by on Daniel’s good will for longer than he cared to admit. It wasn’t until now that Frederick, alone with his son and sister, actually had to take care of these things himself, and his reserves were becoming dry.

  Therefore, every day, he had taken to walking different mountain paths in search of anything he could sell or hunt. As a Royal, Frederick had been dutifully trained in the art of the hunt, although it had never really been his thing. Just another thing about him that angered his father. But, as the old adage said, desperate times called for desperate measures.

  While Frederick didn’t necessarily consider their situation desperate, he and Cornflower simply couldn’t turn their noses up to squirrel or hare, even if those had never been on their menus before. A Ranguvariian checked in with them every other day, and Frederick wasn’t too proud to admit that that Ranguvariian was often the person that skinned the meat and took the pelts and whatever else he happened to scavenge to town. This ensured that Frederick never needed to step foot anywhere he could be recognized.

  Frederick paused, checking one of his traps. Empty, again. He sighed and tried not to think about his rumbling stomach.

  In an effort to make it up to Lina for his rude comments, Frederick asked any person he happened to see on his walks about the Auklian Royal family and their opinion of Rhydin. He saw maybe two or three people in a week’s time, so it wasn’t the greatest source of information. They were normally Rounans trying to find a safe place to live, so the opinions of Rhydin he had received were negative across the board.

  However, only a few of them expressed interest in fighting back while most did not. It confused Frederick truly. One man’s reign causes you to have to leave the life you know and find safety and anonymity in the mountains. Why wouldn’t one want that to change?

  As for the Auklian Royal family, so far none of them could even name Daniel’s father due to Queen Maria’s long, solitary reign after his death decades ago. Frederick tried not to let his mind wander too much on this…but were Royals so hated that they were, in fact, forgettable? Would any of his people remember him, whether he ever got to be king or not?

  A twig snapped. The prince rapidly drew his sword, scanning in all directions before his eyes landed on a tanned, young Auklian woman. She appeared utterly out of her element. Her clothing was fine indeed, and she had managed to snag her silk cloak on a piece of mountain brush.

  Frederick sheathed his sword and stepped toward her slowly, trying not to frighten her. “Hello there. Do you need help?”

  The woman jumped, her brilliant teal eyes going wide underneath a hood that obscured most of her face. She stuttered in a nasal, Auklian accent, “F-Frederick?”

  The prince hesitated in his approach. It wasn’t uncommon for the people he ran into to recognize him. But none of them had ever referred to him by only his name with no title tacked on to either end. He studied her a little closer. Why did she sound familiar? He asked cautiously, “Do I know you?”

  The teal eyes were magnetized to the grou
nd, anger flashing in them. After a couple of seconds, the woman angrily tore off her hood, revealing a head of tousled hair that was bright orange. Like tiger lilies.

  Queen Lily of Auklia. Daniel’s wife who had simply disappeared during the fray at the Archimage Palace. He, and everyone else, had assumed she died when she never turned up.

  “Lily,” Frederick gasped before he rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was seeing things. She was still there when he stopped. “How is this possible? Where have you been?”

  Lily’s hands clenched into fists. “None of your business! My son and my husband are dead. Leave me be, Frederick.” She ripped her cloak from the limb that had dared snag it and moved to walk away.

  “Wait!” Frederick shouted before he closed the distance between them. “You’re still the queen of Auklia! Your people need a leader-…”

  “No, Frederick,” Lily responded harshly, glaring at him with her nose in the air. “I am the queen who abandoned her people not just once, but twice. I have received death threats of all things, why do you think I am here and not home with what family I have left in Auklia?”

  A rare sense of ire entered Frederick, and he felt the back of his neck grow hot. “So now you will do it a third time, is that it? You will simply disappear like you don’t exist?”

  “Rhydin has won, Frederick. Even if Auklia wanted me, it’s too late,” Lily chastised him. “We were foolish to believe we could stop him.”

  “I can’t believe that,” Frederick responded adamantly. “There’s always hope.”

  The orange-haired woman merely shook her head and began to walk away once more, mumbling something disparaging about their odds.

  The prince almost let her leave, but then called after her from where he stood, “If you won’t help us, then fine. But did Daniel ever say anything about Archimage Dathian’s family? A green-haired woman, perhaps?”