by C B Samet
“Mom’s friend. He’s a spirit.” Paul explained.
“If he’s here, trouble’s probably with him,” Raven said.
I gaped at her. “I don’t bring trouble,” I protested though it fell on deft ears.
“No,” Snake Eyes said, “but you are often near it.”
“What kind of trouble?” Mo asked.
The door to the restaurant opened and a lean figure in dark robes entered. He wore a hood, which obscured his face. Black, stringy hair also blocked the view. I could sense power rolling off him—thick, sticky, and evil. A dark wizard. A type of creature who hadn’t walked this world in over seven thousand years. The wizard walked to the bar amongst murmurs of disapproval from the other patrons.
“That kind of trouble,” Raven said quietly.
I scowled. “I didn’t bring him here.” Rather than continue to have a one-sided debate I was destined to lose, I focused on how I would to get them all to safety. “Paul, only you can see and hear me, so you’re in charge of helping me.”
He nodded and straightened at the idea of being in charge of something.
“Your best option is going to be to stay low and stay out of sight.”
“The crawl space,” Snake Eyes said. “At this end of the bar there’s a door in the floor.”
“How do you know that?” I asked him.
“Brownies notice these things.”
“Hmm.” I wasn’t sure if that were true of all brownies, but it would certainly be true of Snake Eyes—who’d crawled through nooks, crannies, and the castle ventilation system where I grew up.
“Okay. Paul, you’ll follow me into the hole in the floor, and I’ll guide you outside. It’ll be dark beneath the pub so I’ll make myself glow. You’ll be the only one who’ll see me.” He’d see me but nothing else. “Phoebus and Fury are out there?”
“By a tree at the edge of the woods. Who were you talking to?”
“I have my own spirit friend no one can see.” I winked at Paul. “Mo won’t fit in the crawl space, so he’ll have to shove through the room to the front door when the fighting starts.”
“Fighting?”
“Raven, can crawl to that high window.” I pointed up. “From there, she can call Carrot and fly to join you.”
Paul began relaying the instructions to the group.
Three men entered the pub. They wore thick overcoats and aimed crossbows at the back of the wizard who’d taken a seat at the bar. “That’s him!” one of the armed men cried. “He killed my family.”
Raven scowled. “I’m not leaving you, Paul. I don’t care what Mal says.”
I gave a low growl. There wasn’t time to argue with her through a third party. “Fine. Paul, under the table now.”
He dropped under the table. Raven landed beside him. I crouched down where he could see me. Paul’s eyes went wide, but he kept his fear controlled. That might not be the case when violence erupted. I needed to distract him.
I thought of Abigail teasing me about having been a purple dragon. With a scheming smile, I transformed my appearance into a small shimmering purple dragon—the color of eggplant, not lavender—and the height of a brownie.
“Whoa!” Paul smiled.
“Shhh. Follow me.”
“Outside!” The men with crossbows barked to the dark wizard.
He didn’t move.
Following me, Paul slowly crept across the floor. Since he was low and away from the door, the wizard couldn’t see him. I hoped the wizard wouldn’t sense the movement, and I suspected he was too distracted by the threat on his life.
“Last chance!”
They fired their crossbows in unison. As fast as the projectiles shot out, the wizard flicked his wrist, flipped the arrows over and sent them flying back into the men who’d shot them.
Screams erupted as the men fell to the floor. Panic spread through the room—some people fled and others launched to their feet to fight the wizard.
“Fast now!” I yelled to Paul.
We scurried together across the floor. I hoped the boy was keeping his attention focused on me and not the blood and bodies hitting the wood baseboards.
We made it around the bar and to the latch. Before I could tell Paul how to open it. Raven was kicking the latch, removing the metal plate, and raising it up. Paul opened it the rest of way. I dropped down and Paul, Raven, and Snake Eyes followed.
“You need to pull it shut.” I didn’t want to take the chance that this evil being might seek to destroy those who witnessed his carnage.
Paul pushed to his feet, grabbed the door, and pulled it shut. We plunged into darkness. A loud thunk sounded on the floor above us.
“What was that?” Paul asked.
I didn’t tell the child that it was the murdered bar tender. “Follow me.” I couldn’t see in the dark either, but I could sense my location in a three-dimensional area so I could lead us out.
Paul followed me, the quiet sounds of dirt moving beneath his hands and knees.
“I can’t see,” Raven complained in a hushed whisper.
“Crawl on me,” Paul offered. “I can see, Mal. He’s leading us out.”
After a few shuffling noises, I continued walking on all four of my dragon legs.
“Can you breathe fire?” Paul asked.
I belched out a puff of orange and red fire to entertain him.
He released a subdued giggle.
“Can you fly?”
I stretched out thin purple wings and flapped them, lifting my small body into the air.
Behind us, we left the screaming sounds of suffering and death.
Paul sniffed. “That man is killing them, isn’t he?”
“He is.” I might be comfortable with diversion and distraction, but I wouldn’t lie to him.
“Why is he doing that?”
“He’s some type of dark wizard, but I have no idea why he thinks hurting people is a solution to anything.”
Ahead of us, I could see moonlight and the edge of the building.
“My mom could stop him,” Paul declared, forcing bravery into his voice.
“And maybe she will, but not today. Today, we get you to safety.”
“Is she still on the island?”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me when she makes it to Crithos?”
“I’ll tell you.”
When we reached the end of the crawl space, Paul stood and inspected his surroundings.
“Well, Mal made himself useful after all,” Raven remarked as she hopped off Paul onto the ground beside him.
“Tell the ungrateful brownie she needs to summon the animals so you can ride to safety.”
Phobus approached from around the north side of the building with Fury beside him. Carrot sat on the saddle. The horse knelt, allowing Paul to climb up into the saddle.
“What about Mo?” Paul asked.
Raven climbed onto the horse and then onto Carrot. “I’ll go back for him. You ride, and ride hard on the northbound trail. Keep following Mal. When Phobus tires, find a secluded area in the woods off the trail. Mo and I will find you. Fury will be able to find your scent.”
The hawk lifted off the horse. Fury turned and followed them around the building.
“Snake Eyes, you stay with Raven. Report back to me if and when they’re on our trail.”
I took off in flight on the north trail. Paul seized the reins and followed at a lope.
Forty minutes into the ride, Paul turned both stiff and pale, and the horse’s torso bellowed in winded breaths. I had them slow to a walk.
Snake Eyes appeared beside me. “Raven and Mo are coming. Mo’s kind of big and slow.”
In a swoosh, Raven and Carrot descended. Paul leaned back and let the hawk land on the saddle horn.
“Off road here,” Raven instructed.
Paul turned the horse, and they slowly descended off the road and into the woods. Behind the horse, the wolf pulled a leafy branch from the ground and zigzagged it along the
ground, covering the horses tracks and his own.
Raven was giving the wolf instructions only the two of them could hear.
“She’s one smart brownie,” I told Snake Eyes.
“I know,” he said, with a dreamy air in his voice.
The wolf headed back south through the woods, presumably to find Mo and help lead him to their campsite.
I transformed back into my two-legged, natural form and followed the group. When we reached a small clearing in the woods, Raven had Carrot land in a tree. She climbed off and sat on one limb with legs dangling.
Paul dismounted. He set to work unstrapping the saddle and hauling it off Phobus’ back.
“We can’t build a fire,” Raven said. “Not if there’s danger on the road.”
“She’s right,” I told Paul.
He laid a thick blanket on the ground. “Fury can keep me warm.”
The small, tired child sat and hunched wearily.
“You were very brave, Paul. I’d tell your mother how brave you were, but you know if she hears of this before you’re safely by her side, she’ll worry.”
“Yeah. She’ll worry. She said she would.”
“Okay. I’ll keep it hush until you two meet up.”
“Is Abigail okay?” Raven asked.
Paul looked at me. “After my mom told me about her star being damaged and the Bellosians invading, I told Raven.” He turned to Raven. “Mal said she’s still on Misty Isle. She’s waiting for the boat to be made.”
I sensed Raven wanted to ask more, but she’d know that I couldn’t relay the details of Abigail’s trip or impending war through a seven-year-old child.
When a rustling sounded, Paul flinched.
“It’s Mo,” I assured him.
The wolf preceded the cook. Fury walked to Paul and licked his face. Then he circled the clearing as if making sure it was a suitable place for Paul to stay the night. When he finished, he curled up on the blanket near Paul.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Paul. I’ve never seen such magic.” Mo took a blanket out of his pack, laid it down, and sat on it.
Raven scowled at him. “Can we talk about something less terrifying before we go to bed?”
Blood coagulated over jagged scratches on Mo’s arms. I hoped it was dark enough, Paul wouldn’t see them. Born and raised on a farm, Paul understood death—the finality of the end of a life. But he’d been taught to honor the death of an animal for the food it provided, with reverence and humility. One day, he’d know about man’s capacity to kill for the sake of killing. One day—not at the age of seven.
Paul curled up into the wolf, closed his eyes, and soon began the slow, steady breathing of sleep.
“We’ll alternate night watch,” Raven told Mo in a whisper.
Mo nodded. “You go first. I can’t sleep after seeing what that man did. He never even picked up a weapon, but killed twenty people nevertheless. Killed them and enjoyed it. What was that thing?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Abigail can tell us when we meet up with her.”
Abigail didn’t know either, nor did she currently need to add a murderous, bloodthirsty wizard to her list of worries. She’d need a great deal of magic training before she could face such a deadly threat. Perhaps it needn’t be her. Perhaps Orrick could fight this particular threat.
Raven summoned two squirrels, who curled around her as she lay down on a log.
Mo leaned back on a tree, his eyes darting nervously at every animal and night crawler making its way through the forest.
“Are we staying?” Snake Eyes asked, watching Raven sleep.
“We’re staying. We’ll watch over them until morning.”
32
ABIGAIL
I stood on the beach, feeling the warmth and savoring the salty breeze. Baird stood on one side of me and Corky stood on the other. Our boat, complete with sails, oars, a deck, a small shelter, and stored rations bobbed on the surface of the lapping waves.
Half the village had come to bid us farewell, but I had eyes only for one little girl. Rebekah was putting forth such a brave face even as she clutched my mom’s dress in one fist. My promise to return had assuaged her angst but not eliminated it.
I swallowed and shuddered. If I cried, she’d interpret that as worry I might not return. I would return—that much was certain. I would end the war in its infancy and reunite my family. That was absolute. The when was uncertain.
Behind me, Baird and Corky climbed into the boat as the waves lapped the sides of the hollow canoes. With one final wave, I turned and shoved the boat away from the shore. Holding a low, wooden rod that ran between the sides of the canoe, I began to kick. I pulsed the Warrior Stone into my legs with each powerful stride. All of my wood chopping helped with the upper body strength I needed to keep my head above water.
Ahead of me, I could see the ocean canoe’s deck and cross beams. Beyond our boat, vast blue ocean stretched into the horizon. Perhaps my back to the shore was a better way to leave; I couldn’t see the worry on my mom and daughter’s faces, and they couldn’t see me cry.
I hadn’t used the Warrior Stone since my fight to the death with Porter Stout. My vision clouded with images of the hilt of the dagger sinking to the hub between his ribs and into his heart. The smell of copper. The absolute, irrevocable loss of life. A life I took. So many lives lost by my hands. So much more bloodshed to come.
I swam, even as the current grew stronger. I swam harder, driven by worry that every moment until I reached King Artemis was another moment he would tighten his tentacles around my homeland—another moment he would pillage and destroy.
Corky perched on the front of the starboard side of the boat as he served as our navigator. Baird sat portside and aft, using his oar to rudder the boat.
“Abigail, you should take a break,” Baird looked down at me.
I shook my head. “I can feel the current. If I stop now, we’ll be swept off course.” It wasn’t as strong as it had been initially, but still robust.
“Corky and I can row a bit. You need to rest and hydrate and eat.”
“I’m fine.”
Baird pursed his lips together. “Malakai, if you’re here, can you talk sense into her?”
Mal sat on the canoe opposite Baird. “Abigail, your friends can capably row while you rest.” His legs dangled off the edge and he pretended to kick bare feet in the water.
I realized I’d never seen his bare feet. I’d never seen any part of him bare. I wondered what else lurked behind that black shirt and pants.
“Besides, if you don’t stop rowing, I’m going to start serenading you with Midnight Memories.”
The imagery of Mal singing the doleful tune—and naked—shattered my concentration long enough to make me feel the exhaustion in my muscles.
“Fine.” I reached for a bar one rung up and pulled myself out of the water.
Baird helped me onto the boat, handing me a flask of water.
My legs turned boneless and rubbery. The muscles burned from use. I guessed I’d lost track of time as I swam. I drank the fresh water from the flask greedily.
As Corky and Baird began rowing, I took the rear of one of the canoes. With one hand on the rudder, I used the other to put on the straw hat Selina had given me. I snacked on salted salmon.
By nightfall, we had wind for our sail. We rotated positions—one to sleep, one to man the sails, and one to keep the other awake.
I stretched out on the canoe staring at a vast sky of stars. Among them shone two moons—Mother and Infant. I wondered if she felt the vast kilometers between herself and her child the way I felt so removed from all of mine. I drifted off to sleep.
An endless, blue blanket of ocean water spread in every direction and blurred with the horizon. We were still days from land—days from civilization. There was little privacy on an ocean canoe, but the conditions were far better than the last boat I’d been on. The deck had a small, attached, three-sided shelter where one person at a time could escape the
sun or use the opening at the bottom as a toilet.
During one of the nights, I made sure to check in with Coco again. She said Artemis Stout’s forces were seen marching to Marrington.
“Minister Tarik gained favor in the court and argued for surrender. I’ll be forced to stand down when Bellosian soldiers arrive.”
“Hide with Orrick and Natalie,” I urged her.
She put her hands on her hips. “My fate will be that of the soldiers under my command.”
I rolled my eyes. Foolish pride.
“You could sneak away with the soldiers so that you can join us later.”
“I don’t sneak.”
I threw up my hands. “That is true.”
“I’ll send a platoon away and tell them to wait for your arrival. This way, you can have soldiers at your disposal. I’ll try to pick ones you’re familiar with and who are familiar with you.”
“Thank you. Please also tell them I’ve sent for Kovians and giants to join us.”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “Aren’t you thorough? Shall we start calling you Captain Cross?”
“General Cross.” I grinned. The title would elevate me above her.
She bristled. “The shullby stadium three kilometers south of Marrington will make for a good meeting place.”
“Then we’ll meet there.”
Corky, Baird, and I took turns rowing, resting, and eating, all the while cognizant of our limited stores of food and water. Mal had traveled west and returned to reassure me no storms were bearing down on us. He’d also checked on all of the children and assured me of their good health.
“You actually think you’ll spear a fish?”
I ignored Corky’s question as I stood on the edge of the boat, holding a spear with tip pointed toward the water. The other end had a rope attached, which ran from the spear to the base of the sail so I could reel in my catch.
“Now!” Mal yelled.
I threw the spear straight and swift. It cut through the water and vanished. The rope grew taught and the boat tipped slightly. I pulled the fish into the boat as the rope dug into the callouses on my palms from my many days of wood chopping. I hadn’t troubled Mal to heal them again.