by C B Samet
“No worries. We’ll manage. You and Natalie just stay safe.”
I returned to the island, where Abigail still busied herself taking out her frustration on indigenous wildlife. I decided to roam the island.
“Does Abigail always perseverate on things?” Snake Eyes asked.
“No. Actually her time is usually divided among her Champion responsibilities and her children.”
“And her teaching?”
“It was,” I said. “Sadly, she relinquished her position as a chemistry professor when Joshua died.”
“So, why is she chopping all of those trees?”
I stopped along the beach to stare at the ocean. “Many reasons. For starters, she needs to build her strength and endurance back—both for fighting the Bellosians and for sailing to Crithos. Then, there’s all the emotional turmoil she’s dealing with. Physical labor is therapy for that.”
“Emotional turmoil.” Snake Eyes removed his hat and scratched his head.
I stared distractedly at the bald patch on top. I’d never noticed that before.
He replaced his hat. “Turmoil because of what Porter Stout did to her?”
Both what he did and what he’d wanted to do. “That’s one reason.”
Snake Eyes stared at me expectantly.
I sighed. “She lost her Queen. Her best friend was tortured and lost his gifts. Her children are scattered, and she’s going to have a difficult time reuniting her family. She’s got a war to fight, and she always blames herself when others die under her command.”
“Wow. That’s a lot. And, on top of all that, you went and told her you loved her.”
“Excuse me?”
Snake Eyes shrugged. “You’re timing wasn’t great.”
My temper flared. “You and my brother have been nagging me for weeks to express my feelings about Abigail.”
“Acknowledging how you feel to yourself.” He corrected me. “Being true to yourself. You weren’t supposed to mouth off to her about it in the middle of intercontinental strife.”
I wanted to throw something at the floating brownie. Since I couldn’t, I flopped backward in the sand.
He sat beside my head, oblivious to my aggravation with him. “Did it feel good at least?”
“To tell Abigail how I feel?”
“Yes.”
“It did. I’m not sure what will come of it, but it felt good.”
“She hasn’t reciprocated,” Snake Eyes pointed out.
I stretched my hands behind my head. “No, she hasn’t. And that’s okay. I didn’t say it because I wanted to hear it from her. I said it so she’d know. Even if she doesn’t love me, I’m committed to her. I’ll see this through to the end.” The end, I knew, culminated in my confinement back into the stone. Nevertheless, I felt the peace of my words—the tranquility of knowing and expressing absolute truth.
I heard footsteps and turned my head to see Baird and Corky approaching the beach.
“I want you to know that you don’t have to go,” Baird said. He walked in easy strides as he wore long shorts and a loose shirt. Like Abigail, he was regaining lost weight. He finally looked more like a monk and less like a beggar.
Corky’s long, blond hair flew in the ocean breeze. “I’m no islander. I’d go stir crazy on a tiny place like this.”
Baird chuckled. “A paradise like this?”
“I stay here and they’re libel to make me earn an honest living. I need populated cities for proper thieving.” He grinned.
“There are other ways to put your skills to use.”
“You’re talking about her Avant highness.”
“She’s as fallible as the rest of us.”
“Tell that to her.”
They stopped at the edge of the surf.
“She bears her guilt deeply. If she’s hard on you, it’s because she knows you’re capable of being better. Think of her like an older sister.”
“I do a bit, judging by the way I want to strangle her half the time.”
Baird’s blue eyes sparkled. “You know she’ll need help stealing the scepter.”
Corky straightened.
“The greatest magical artifact lies deep within the castle vault,” Baird continued. “You’d have bragging rights for the rest of your life. Well, you can’t keep it, but you’ll still have that accomplishment to add to your repertoire.”
The young thief stared out at the horizon, seeming to imagine the scepter within his reach. He nodded as he came to his decision. “If I help steal this scepter, then Abbey and I are square. My debt for the rescue is repaid.”
“I think she’ll agree to your terms.”
Corky picked up a shell and shucked it into the ocean. “What else is in the Queen’s vault?”
30
ABIGAIL
Rebekah had been sullen most of the day, since the announcement that I’d depart tomorrow. I spent every meal with her, and every night. Every day, I took time to play a game or just snuggle.
After long hours of packing and saying farewell, I crawled into bed beside her. I brushed soft strands of dark hair off her cheek.
“When will you be back?” she asked.
“I don’t know, precisely. Enough time for me to sail to Crithos and confront King Artemis.” At least she hadn’t asked how I would arrive back on the island. I hoped Orrick would help me with a magical solution. Orrick and Isabel Dallik.
“But your star is broken.”
“It is broken, but even broken stars can mend.” I squeezed her to me in a hug. “I love you.”
“Will you tell Natalie I love her?”
“I absolutely will.”
“Will you see Paul?”
I thought about the seven-year old. He had made good on his threat to pack and leave the estate. Mal had checked on him for me and reported back to me. Paul rode on Phobus, heading toward Marrington. Raven, Mo, and Fury accompanied him, so I knew he was in good company—though he’d never been on his own excursion before now. My worst fear was if Paul encountered Bellosian soldiers. But clever Raven—she’d keep him safe.
“I’ll see Paul. I’ll give him a hug from you.”
Rebekah didn’t ask me how I’d see Paul, and I didn’t volunteer the information. If she knew he traveled on an adventure of his own, she may beg to come with me. I couldn’t take her into the ocean on a tiny boat.
“And Fury?”
“You want me to give him a kiss?”
She giggled.
“And Raven?” she asked.
“She’s not much for hugs and kisses, but I’ll tell her you miss her.”
After Rebekah fell asleep, I took a walk along the beach. The moons lit the sky, casting a magical soft white glow on the surf.
“Are you in the mood for company?” Mal appeared beside me.
I looked up at him and smiled. “Your company, yes.”
I walked barefoot in the sand, feeling the soft grains on the soles of my feet. An occasional wave would reach high enough to wet my toes. A warm breeze ruffled my dress and loose hair.
“I saw you playing with Rebekah the other day.”
“I enjoy entertaining.”
“You’re a natural.”
Mal walked beside me. “I don’t know that I’ve ever told you how beautiful you are.”
I glanced at him before looking back at the ocean.
“You take my breath away every time I see you,” he added, halting on the shore.
I stopped walking and turned towards him, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind one ear.
“And I’m sorry for hurting you when I left for a year and a half.”
“I forgive you. I forgave you the instant you came back. Truthfully, I’d a great deal of mourning to do. It was probably better we separated for a time. I needed to figure out how to manage my life and my children.”
He grinned. “Did you figure that out?”
“Um. No. But it gave me time to work on it.”
He gave me a sad smile. �
�You’ve been through an ordeal these last few weeks. Do you need to discuss any of it?”
I thought of the horrors of battle and the atrocious Porter Stout. “When this is over, we’ll talk about all of it. We’ll have a lot of time to discuss it while we figure out how to fix the stone in the scepter. For now, I just want to enjoy us. Whatever we are.”
Fix the stone.
That dismal thought vexed me. Fix the stone and relegate our relationship back to the dream world.
“Can I kiss you?”
I gave him a puzzled look. “Can you?”
“Not in the traditional sense. But when I touch you, I feel a certain energy. I think you feel it, too.” Mal took a step closer.
I swallowed. “I do.”
He raised his arms, bent at the elbows and palms flat facing me.
I mimicked him, then we touched palms, slightly sinking them in together. His effervescent warmth spread through my hands. The combination of the delicate touch, the smoldering heat in Mal’s eyes, and the ambience of a moonlit beach sent a wave of arousal through me. This close, I could see the faint gold flecks in his dark eyes with their wide pupils. His square jaw was lined with short, even facial hair. His dark, slightly wavy hair was impeccably fixed.
I wanted to brush my face against his and feel the coarse bristles, or plunge my fingers into his dark hair. Instead, I stayed still, enjoying the feel of his energy touching my hands.
I leaned forward, towards those full, sinful lips. Mal met me halfway. I closed my eyes, tuning into the sensation of heat from our contact. We stayed, lips pressed together for a moment, before we both pulled away.
I blinked my eyes open. Mal stared at me, observing my expression.
“That was nice,” I said.
He brushed a hand along my face, leaving a trail of warmth. “I wish I could give you more.”
“You do give me more, Mal.” I lowered my hands from his. “You’ve given me strength and support these last few weeks. I wouldn’t have survived without you, and I’m not just talking about the healing.”
He started to open his mouth to protest, but I didn’t give him the chance.
“Love is so much more than the physical. You, above all people, have demonstrated this. I accept what we have—and it’s beautiful.”
We resumed a long moonlit stroll on the beach, enjoying the quiet company we shared.
Later that night, I entered Arturo’s dream. I hadn’t seen my friend since Joshua’s death, when he’d attended the funeral.
Arturo wore battle armor and wielded a jagged Hunju saber. I recognized the square at Dantaju with its red clay. I also recognized the battle he’d recreated in his dream. This was the civil war we’d fought almost seven years ago.
“Arturo!” I called to him over the roar of clashing swords and roaring tempers.
He turned to look at me. As he stared the fighting figures turned to red dust and drifted away, out of the dream.
“Ab’ay?”
“Hello, Arturo.” I approached him with a smile.
He lowered his sword and then it vanished. “You’re doin’ some type of magic?”
“Dream walking,” I confirmed.
“Have ya always had that?”
“It’s new, but the reason I’m here is more important than the how.”
“Aye. You’re not dead, are you?”
“I’m not dead. But the Queen is. We were on a mission to engage in diplomatic negotiations with Bellos. King Artemis Stout killed the Queen—poisoned. At the same time, the King’s forces overtook us.”
“You’re captured.”
“I was. Baird and I escaped. We’re making our way to Marrington, but the King will have already seized the castle by the time we arrive.” I fidgeted with the red stone around my neck. Why was asking for help so hard? “I need help—if Portia is willing.” Portia had assumed leadership of the Hunjus after I helped her win the civil war.
“I’ll talk to her.”
“Even if only a few giants or mixers could come help fight against Bellos. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t absolutely need it.”
“I know that, Ab’ay. We’ll bring more than a few. If Marrington castle falls, we’re at risk too.”
I nodded. The Queen and her predecessors had thousands of years of peace with the giants. Artemis Stout could destroy them with his army—or enslave them.
“How are you holding up?” Arturo asked.
I shook my head. “Everything’s changing. Natalie’s at the castle. She’s hiding, but I’ll lose my mind if harm comes to her because I couldn’t stop the King.”
“Easy. She’s a smart girl. She’ll look after herself. The King knows ‘bout her?”
“No. He knows who I am, but he doesn’t know I have children.” I thought about the day Porter arrived on Mulan and how that seemed ages ago. I’d moved the children before his dingy was near enough to the shore to have identified my children.
“The King knows what you’re capable of?”
I thought of the star and the stone, both of which Arturo knew I possessed. Then, I thought of Mal and the scepter’s power we planned to harness.
I gave Arturo a conspiratorial grin. “He’s no idea what I’m capable of.”
A short while later, I entered the dream of Zack, the monk. He sat cross-legged near the familiar Aqua Santos, with erect posture and hands resting on his knees. His chest rose and fell in slow deep breaths and his eyes were closed. His long, white hair hung past his shoulders and above the blue cloak surrounding him.
The nearby waterfall rumbled in the distance. Wisteria trees swayed their purple arms in the breeze.
I gaped at him. Was he honestly mediating in a dream? Where was the fun in that?
“Zack?”
He blinked his eyes opened and gave me a puzzled look. He turned his head from left to right looking at his surroundings.
I gasped and then a wide smile spread across my lips. “You were sleeping while meditating!”
Zack frowned.
“Hah! I’m not the only one.”
Zack remained seated and unperturbed. “I’m certain there is a purpose to this intrusion that has nothing to do with my meditation?”
I sobered. I sat down on the grass in front of him and crossed my legs. “Yes.” I raised one hand to show him the moons. “First, you should know that I can dream walk.”
“So I surmised.”
I held up my other hand. “Since my star is damaged, I’ve been doing quite a bit of dream walking.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your star.”
“Baird’s is damaged, too.”
“This has to do with the trip to Bellos you two took?”
“Yes. The King betrayed us. He murdered the Queen. Baird and I escaped, and we’re now on Misty Isle with plans to return to Crithos once our boat is finished being built. When we get there, we have Crithian soldiers and Kovian soldiers poised to join us for the battle. Some giants, too, are on their way.”
“The monks will come.”
Relief took some of the tension out of my shoulders. “Thank you.”
“The news of the Queen is troubling. Who will lead?”
Not my daughter. Natalie wasn’t ready yet.
“There are a number of ministers who could take the reins. Alternatively, Coco is Captain of the Guard. Her taking temporary control wouldn’t be the first time in history the military led for a time.”
“It’s difficult to know if a military leader in the time of crisis will have a calming or alarming effect.”
“In any case, my objective is to eliminate Bellosian forces in Crithos. I’ll let the politicians sort out who takes the lead.”
Zack arched a white eyebrow. “Even if that leader is Minister Tarik?”
“Him I will protest.” How did Zack know to push my buttons with that political buffoon?
“So, I’ll see you in Marrington in under a week’s time?”
Zack nodded. “You bring your resources, and I will
bring mine.”
I stood, but hesitated before leaving. “Did Baird tell you about their weapons?”
“He did. Before you left for Bellos, he told the monks of his encounter.”
“Then, you know to wear armor?”
Zack crossed his fingers in his lap. “We fight faster without it. But we’ll bring other resources.”
“Other resources?”
“Water from the healing springs. Each monk will carry one flask.”
I nodded, wondering if that might suffice.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your sleeping—er—meditation.”
“Goodnight, Champion.”
31
MALAKAI
I made use of my time checking on Abigail’s children. I closed my eyes and focused on their locations. Yes, I could sense them. I innately always knew where Abigail was because of our connection, but now—perhaps partly from the magic I’d studied, and partly from my new connection with the children—I could sense all of them when I concentrated.
“What are you doing?” Snake Eyes asked.
“Shush. I’m sensing where Abigail’s children are, so I can make sure they’re all safe.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes.”
Natalie was stowed away with Orrick and a few other castle staff in a secret chamber with a series of rooms. Rebekah played in the surf of the beach, watched by her uncle Trad. Paul… A cold prickled along my spine. Darkness encroached on Paul.
I materialized into the room where a bushy-haired Paul sat at a table with Mo on one side and Raven, sitting on the table, on the other side. They looked like quite the trio—a very large, bulky, dark-skinned man in contrast to a tiny brownie on either side of young boy.
By the looks of the dirty dishes on the table, they’d recently finished dinner. I glanced around the room where other patrons ate peaceably. Whatever danger I’d sensed, it hadn’t yet arrived.
“Mal!” Paul greeted me with enthusiasm.
Raven groaned. “What’s he doing here?”
Snake Eyes roamed the room, looking at coins on tables and the metal handles on barrels of beer behind the bar.
“Who’s Mal?” Mo was a larger, gentle man who’d been the family cook for years.