by C B Samet
The lump in my stomach turned rancid. I wanted—strived—to prevent such a thing, but part of me knew Paul was right. I was one person, and fallible at that. If I couldn’t prevent war with Bellos, one day their forces might spread through Crithos like the Omega Plague. Even if I did prevent the war, the evil inside man still presented a problem without an easy or quick solution.
“Okay. We’ll teach you to fight.”
“We?”
“Me. Baird. Mal. Raven. Now, come here, you. I need a hug.” I pulled him into my lap, where he snuggled until dinner time.
The Queen kept the ship’s crew to a bare minimum, since we weren’t actually sailing the open ocean. We had the captain, first mate, five shipmen, a dozen guards—hand selected by Coco, who remained behind at Marrington castle—plus Baird, me, and the Queen. Below deck, Prince Stout and his captured crew were restrained. During travel preparations, the Prince had been given a luxurious room under watchful guard and fed well—better than I thought he deserved, but this wasn’t my show.
Mal stood at the helm, leaning forward and silently staring at the horizon. I knew he loved the ocean and his greatest desire was probably to physically experience it—the breeze, the taste of salt, the coolness of the water.
The crew stood ready on deck, eyes wide in anticipation. I’d already warned everyone that travel by star magic could be a bit discombobulating.
Baird placed a hand on my shoulder. He wore his usual blue cloak but had shaved his short beard and looked ten years younger. His salt and pepper hair was trimmed, but still long enough to ruffle in the cool ocean breeze.
I placed a hand on the shoulder of one of the sailors, chosen because he frequently traveled to Bellos for trade purposes. “As we discussed, we want to be just out of site of the shoreline.”
“Yes, Lady Cross.”
I placed my other hand on the ship’s railing. “To Bellos.”
Behind us, the dock and town of Waterton vanished, replaced by open ocean. The clouds above us changed from heavier gray to wisps of cotton in a light blue blanket. In front of us, a distant shoreline ran like a green and tan streak along the horizon.
I walked to the helm and stood beside Mal.
“Weeks travel in the blink of an eye,” he said.
“I’m glad you came back.”
“I was wrong to have left in the first place.”
I blinked at him. His words sounded like an apology, and Mal seldom admitted he was fallible.
My hair blew behind me in the breeze, while Mal’s dark waves remained unmoved. I watched him watching the waves.
“How can I be of service, Lady Cross?”
His questions stirred desires in me beyond simple friendship. Heat crept up my neck and into my cheeks.
He turned to look at me. “On this particular adventure?”
I cleared my throat. “Spy for me. Spy on the King, the Prince, the court. We need to know what we’re up against.”
“As you wish.”
I turned back to watch the shore come into view. Beyond the dock, hills rose in the distance. On the highest hill shone a white castle. The alabaster stone was practically blinding in the sunlight. High keeps came into view, along with multiple lookout towers. Around the castle spread inner and outer curtains. Two tall statues stood at attention at a large gate. At the base of the hill, crowded homes and shops stretched all the way to the docks.
“It’s breathtaking.”
“It’s three times the size of Marrington.”
“Look to the one side.” I pointed. “There’s some type of arena.”
Baird joined us, standing on the side of me opposite Mal. “It’s an incredible city. You could fit all of Marrington in the castle alone.”
“You could fit the entire university in that arena,” I added.
“What do you suppose it’s for?” Baird asked.
“You’re the cultural expert. Do they play games here? Like shullby?”
“I’m a cultural expert of Crithos only. We’ll have to ask.”
Mal straightened. “It’s not for games.” His tone was dark. “Not for the amicable type, anyway.”
I waited for further explanation.
“The blood of a thousand lives rests in the soil beneath that arena. It’s a place of death.”
10
MALAKAI
When the Queen’s ship came into port, dock patrolmen immediately surrounded it, and the crew wasn’t allowed to disembark. Baird spoke in Bellosian and explained to local officials that Queen Rebekah the Fourth of Crithos waited aboard, and she sought an audience with the king of Bellos.
I kept out of sight and hearing of Abigail so as not to distract her in any way. Snake Eyes hovered near me, watching the series of conversations and indecisions.
The Queen and her crew were kept waiting over an hour while Bellosian soldiers arrived under the guise of an ‘escort’ for the Queen’s own safety.
Baird and Abigail disembarked with the Queen immediately behind them. Baird wore a simple pant and tunic combination along with his blue Gunthi Monk robe. Abigail wore pants, a white blouse, and a vest. The vest accentuated her narrow waist. Her Warrior Stone, encased in a wooden necklace, hung around her neck. Her only weapon was a jeweled dagger on her belt, which looked more like an accessory than a weapon.
The dozen soldiers the Queen had brought aboard her ship disembarked last. From the ship, the parade of Crithians walked through the town to the train yard. Onlookers—dockworkers, merchants, shoppers, and street peddlers—gawked at the procession. The Crithians boarded the cabin of a train with comfortable seats and again waited.
Snake Eyes rubbed his eyes and yawned. “This is soooo much waiting. I’m growing old waiting.”
“You can’t grow old.”
“I’m growing gray hair waiting.”
“Are you?” I tried to peer under his hat, but he waved me away.
“My point is that I thought this was a journey of action,” he said.
“Ideally, this is a journey of boring meetings and negotiations culminating in a peace treaty—preferably one that doesn’t financially crush Crithos.”
The train began to depart, carrying Queen and company up the mountain toward Castle Victoria—the white, lavish monstrosity of ivory and gold.
Snake Eyes sat on crossed legs as he floated in the air and put his elbows on his knees to rest his hands on his chin. “First we cross an ocean without actually sailing the ocean. Now, we have to sit through talking. When does this get interesting?”
I blew air out through pursed lips. “You will know, friend, when it gets interesting. And then we’ll all wish this had been settled with tedious negotiations.”
The train stopped a short walk from Castle Victoria. The Crithians were escorted through the white stone walls of the outer keep, over a series of bridges, and through the inner keep—also a set of white walls.
Among the many towers, two were particularly taller than the rest.
“Those are the Ivory Towers,” I told Snake Eyes.
“Gold!” He lunged for the two larger-than life gold statues of Bellosian soldiers, who stood guard over the castle. He vanished into the statue.
He came back out looking disappointed. “It’s not real gold.”
“Not to worry. I’m sure there will plenty of gold inside the castle.” Not that he could get his thieving hands on any of it.
“Finally, something interesting.”
We proceeded inside and across an expansive marble floor. Paintings of former Bellosian royalty adorned the walls.
“Greetings!” An elderly man in green robes held his hands wide. His smile contrasted any of the greetings the Queen and Abigail had thus far received. He swept his hands down and gave a bow. “We are delighted you have graced us with your presence. We are working on accommodations at this very moment.” He placed a hand to his chest. Green fingernail polish adorned his nails and matched his eye shadow. “I am Emerald, advisor to the King. One of many.�
��
“Your kindness is most refreshing, Emerald. I am Queen Rebekah. Present here are my advisors, Baird Potts and Abigail Cross.”
I noted Baird had chosen to be introduced by his professor name—Baird Potts—rather than his monk name—Baird Fox. I wondered if any of his books in circulation had made it as far as Bellos.
Emerald took each person’s hand one-by-one and kissed the back of it as he gave a bow. I sensed deep sincerity in his actions. The guards around him shifted uncomfortably. I tried to ascertain if they worried for his safety so close to the newcomers or if they were disconcerted with his warm welcome.
He raised his head and scanned the guards in the procession. His eyes seemed to be searching—sensing—as if he knew there were more present in this room than those the eyes could see.
“Does he see us?” Snake Eyes asked.
“Not in the traditional meaning of the word, but I think he senses something.”
When I spoke, Emerald’s eyes flickered in my direction. Could he hear me? I found the prospect of a Bellosian, loyal to the King, being aware of my presence troubling.
“Come, come.” Emerald ushered everyone. “Let’s get you settled in your rooms and give you time to prepare for dinner. The King plans a feast for you even on short notice.”
“What does it mean if he knows we’re here?” Snake Eyes asked.
I gave the brownie a troubled look. “I’m not sure. He doesn’t look worried by it. Only intrigued.” Yet, the knowledge of my existence in the wrong mind could spell disaster for Abigail.
Two Bellosian maids escorted Abigail to a chamber room, separate from her traveling companions.
“You’re all quite remote from each other,” I pointed out as I made myself visible now that Abigail was alone.
Abigail paced in the privacy of her room, her posture tense. “While I change from my traveling clothes into dinner attire for tonight, can you watch over the Queen in the meantime?”
“I can watch over both of you.”
“Can you now?”
I had Snake Eyes watching the Queen with orders to report back to me in the event of any danger. Abigail didn’t know of Snake Eyes’ existence. While he was a dear friend of mine, explaining his presence to her didn’t seem to serve much purpose.
“I try to tell you: I’m a man of many talents.”
She pursed her lips together, trying not to give me an encouraging smile.
“I think we’ve an hour before you’re due for dinner, if you wanted to explore some of my many talents.” I smiled.
She wouldn’t take the offer, but my seductive words served their purpose to distract her from her ongoing worries.
“Focus, Mal,” she chided me, but each time she did so, her voice held less conviction than the last.
What if she ever caved to my flirtations? I couldn’t physically touch her—awake or in her dreams. Would she be disappointed that we had only wit and lingering stares to share? I knew I was.
“Can you memorize the passageways between my chamber and the Queen’s room, in case I need to arrive in a hurry?” Abigail asked.
“Done.”
“I think I’ll change my attire here, attend this dinner, change back, and then spend the night outside the Queen’s chamber.”
“I’ll stay with you,” I said.
She shook her head. “I need you spying, remember? You’re the world’s greatest spy. No one can see or hear you.”
I nodded, though I thought of the King’s advisor—Emerald—and his ever-so-slight perception of my presence. Abigail didn’t need the added worry of that piece of information.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re taking your boots off. Next will be your socks, then your pants, then your shirt. I was wondering how long before you kick me out of your chambers—or if I could continue to distract as you de-clothe.”
“Goodbye, Mal. Go spy.”
I walked the halls of the castle, listening to the chatter of passing conversations. When they spoke of the Queen’s arrival, it was in surprised shock, incredulous that she hadn’t announced her impending arrival. Murmurs abounded that the Prince had been held hostage at Marrington Castle. Apparently, his ship hadn’t arrived back yet, since some claimed Crithians had sunk it—perhaps not before capturing and eating the crew.
I laughed out loud at that nonsense. Did Bellosians truly believe some Crithians were primitive cannibals?
“They don’t look scary,” Snake Eye’s commented as he kept pace beside me, floating at eye level.
“Were you expecting red eyes and scales?”
“Kind of.” He shrugged. “Everyone’s been so afraid of making the trip here that I expected them to look more… frightening.”
“They’re average humans. Anyone on Crithos can have the same desires, hopes, and dreams—and the same ruthless ambition. The danger is when you coalesce a group of like-minded people capable of justifying war for whatever gain they seek—typically wealth, power, and resources.”
“Does it feel repetitive?” Snake Eyes asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Weren’t we doing this seven-thousand-years-ago? Worrying about Bellos’ invasion?”
“Ah, yes.” At that time, the Bellosian army had plowed through the continent one city at a time, over the course of years. Crithos had better defenses then compared to now, but that had been during the Hundred Year War. “I see the similarity. This time Bellosians are more advanced, and Crithos is far less prepared. I suppose that’s my fault.”
“How so?”
“Crithos is where the scepter was invented. It’s the continent that bears the day of reckoning when Malos attacks. My army only rises on Crithian soil, so I devastate the continent every thousand years. Meanwhile, Bellos is left undisturbed to flourish and industrialize.”
“In-dus-trial-ize.” Snake Eyes said the word slowly, as if careful pronunciation might help him elucidate the meaning.
We came to the castle library, where an expansive collection of books spread from wall to wall. It was smaller than the Oxville University library, where top shelf books could only be accessed with a ladder, but the Victorian library was breathtaking nonetheless.
“I can’t let Abigail know about this place,” I said. “She’ll want to conquer Bellos just to own this library.”
Snake Eyes wrinkled his nose as he followed my gaze. “For books?”
“Books, my friend, are more valuable than gold. They are a wealth of information. They’re expensive, too—paper, binding, and the leather covers. Not to mention the immense consumption of time writing into them.”
“Ugh, yes. I’ve seen Orrick scribbling in his spell books for hours—sometimes until his hand cramps and he can’t write anymore.”
I leaned closer to a shelf of books. “Oh, look. This one has gold.”
Snake Eyes flew to my side. “Really?”
“Oh, no. Just gold-painted lettering. My mistake.”
He hung his head in disappointment.
I kept my chuckle subdued.
“Okay. Let’s see if it’s nearing dinner time.”
11
ABIGAIL
“What in Ellipso’s name is this absurdity?” I had managed to squeeze into the dress the Queen’s servants had given me to pack for Bellos, which was supposed to be in fashion on this continent. The low-cut dress would expose me if I did so much as sneeze or bend over. It barely hung on my shoulders, and the purple scar from the Muglik—who stabbed me during one of my college emersion trips—was visible. When I put on my silver necklace, part of the hefty piece covered half of my scar.
I got help from one of the female guards to tie the lacing in the back, and when she finished, I felt bound and stiff.
Now the hair. Down or up? I didn’t know the custom here.
A knock sounded at the door. “Lady Cross, your dinner escort has arrived.”
“Down hair it is.”
Two maids escorted me into a long dining hall. Th
e table consisted of polished walnut and the chairs contrasted the table with welded metal beneath cushioned seats.
King Artemis Stout stood at the head of the table, watching us file into the room.
The Queen walked until standing beside the chair to his left. I stood beside the Queen, and Baird stood next to me.
Stout wore nothing extravagant for a king—no embellished or embroidered clothing or glittering jewelry, though his shirt and pants were unmistakably made of fine silk. His blue-gray eyes were accentuated by his bald, shining head.
“Welcome, honored guests,” Artemis boomed, his tone jovial. “Queen Rebekah, it is most kind of you to visit our country.” His Crithian sounded remarkable, though with a deep, unmistakably Bellosian accent.
“I am past due for a trip here again. Your son’s arrival near Crithos seemed like a wonderful opportunity to bridge long-overdue greetings.” The Queen wore a vibrant blue gown—the color of the Crithian flag and the guards’ tunics.
King Artemis motioned for everyone to take a seat. “And you crossed the ocean so swiftly. You must have the fastest ships in the world.”
Her lips stretched into not quite a smile. “Crithos has many unorthodox methods of transportation… and protection.”
Her light tone still managed to convey a warning that King Artemis would be up against magical defenses should he chose to invade.
The King seemed unconcerned. “Please introduce me to your companions.”
The Queen introduced Baird and I as advisors. King Artemis gave a civil nod, followed by introductions to members of his court.
I recognized the man wearing all green as Emerald, the man who’d welcomed us to Victoria earlier. He wore a dazzling, emerald-studded necklace. His attire and makeup reminded me of a Blue Gypsy I’d met years ago, and I wondered if Emerald had any particular powers.
I noted Boyo wasn’t among those dining tonight. Baird, Coco, and I had saved his life on Kovia, and I knew he’d returned home alive. I wondered if his absence was intended.