Bardess of Rhulon

by Verna McKinnon

  Thera pushed her way between the Emperor and Culain until she stood over Crimson, a dagger in her hands, green eyes venomous. “Good. You trapped the foul changeling.”

  Crimson cowered, for she knew Thera’s temper. “Wait. Don’t hurt. Please. I’m so weak,” the changeling whimpered. It was a struggle to even move now. “Fiendish Dwarf! Poison! You poisoned the food and wine!”

  “Not poisoned,” Culain confirmed. “We drugged your food and water, just to be certain. We wanted to make sure you were pliable and harmless; as such a demon could be so we could trap you and interrogate you. Now, where are you keeping Princess Lilias Rhodan?”

  A dozen soldiers pressed their spears so deep into her body Crimson feared they would slice her open like a melon.

  “How do you know about that?” Crimson gasped.

  Rose looked down on Crimson. “Through you, Changeling. I saw a great deal when I was inside your mind. You’ve done horrible things. I know you were posing as Princess Lilias for a long time. I know she’s dying in a dark place somewhere. I saw it in my vision.”

  Crimson recoiled from Rose. “How could you see? My blood does not do that to people. It infects and even kills.”

  “None of your business,” Culain replied. “Tell us where she is.”

  Crimson lay back, no longer struggling. “No point. Death is my fate. Lilias can die in the hole.”

  Thera’s temper fumed as stood over the changeling. She edged her way between the guards and slashed Crimson’s cheek with the sharp blade. Crimson screamed, blood pouring grey down her pallid cheek.

  “Tell us or I will flay you in ribbons,” Thera threatened. “I can make you howl for a death that will never come.”

  “Don’t let its blood touch you. It’s poisonous,” Darius warned, drawing the determined Thera back with some force. “Please, I promise we will get Lilias back!”

  “Very well,” Thera agreed. “But if it does not talk, let me question the thing. I know things that can inflict much agony on such a demon.” She turned to Rose and her voice softened. “Rose, you are the bravest of maidens and an honor to your caste,” Thera commended her. She turned her wrath back to the changeling. “But this wretched fiend still has Lilias. We must find her. Where is she?” Thera demanded.

  Crimson stopped struggling in her net. “Buried. Safe as bones in the grave where you’ll never find her alive! And White Thorn is so big. There are so many places to hide away the bodies. It’s a haven for my kind. Without me she will wither away and die. The amulet’s dead now. She will be dead by sunrise!”

  “Then how do we save her?” Thera asked coldly.

  “No one survives the changeling cocoon,” Crimson laughed.

  “Demon spawn!” Thera spat. When you called Rose Greenleaf a ‘stupid, ugly, dwarf girl,’ I knew you were not my Princess. You manner grew more common each day. My sleep became erratic. I sensed dark magic too late. You used your foul breath to keep me asleep when you escaped the palace at night didn’t you?”

  “Be glad I did not kill you, Priestess.”

  “You cannot blame yourself, Thera,” Culain consoled her. “They’re devious creatures. I know the tragedy they bring.”

  “Are you sure Lilias still lives?” Aristide asked.

  “Yes, Father,” Darius replied. “The witch Zula knows a great deal about these demons. She is working on a truth potion to force the changeling to speak. Zula assures us the victim must be kept alive for this long period of shapeshifting to work at all. We still have a chance if we can reach her in time.”

  “That thing is wearing an amulet that connects them and somehow maintains her human form for long blocks of time,” Rose said. “It’s important.”

  “We could not have this without Darius’ assistance,” Culain proclaimed to the Emperor. “Darius planned this charade to trap the changeling. Lady Thera came to us with her suspicions, certain Lilias had been taken by a changeling. When we discovered Lilias missing and two dead maids her room, we knew the appalling truth. When Commander Sparrow and Rose rushed to the palace and warned us it has taken on Rose’s form, we quickly made a plan. We knew the changeling was pretending to be Rose to assassinate me. Darius arranged everything. The trap and drugging were all his idea.”

  “Changelings are quite strong and we needed to weaken it to ensure its capture,” Darius added. “I grieve that this monster killed that poor boy and the two women before we could act. But Father, I swear to you, I’ll rescue Lilias,” Darius declared.

  “You’ve done well, Darius,” Aristide commended him. “I had no idea you could be so strong.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  “Torture will never make me talk. Death will only silence my tongue,” Crimson taunted. “Fools! You will never find your precious Princess. She will die with me.”

  “When its bound in chains and securely caged, send for me,” Darius ordered. “Zula can tell us how to extract information from it.”

  “Rose, you said you saw the amulet in your vision?” Culain asked.

  “Yes. It’s wearing it now,” Rose confirmed. “It has dark magic, but I don’t know how it works. I know it is part of the connection the changeling used to pretend it was the Princess.”

  “Then I suggest the changeling hand it over,” Culain said.

  “Mine!” Crimson hissed out of spite.

  Culain gestured to the guards and they pushed their spears in deeper until Crimson shrieked with agony.

  “Stop, stop!” Crimson wailed. “Take it! Take it. Useless now anyway.”

  They men stepped back, a few spears stained with grey blood. With quivering hands, Crimson ripped the amulet from its neck. It was so small, she could push it through the metal netting.

  One of the guards extended his spear to catch it by the chain and passed it to Culain, who collected it in a piece of cloth.

  “Now, take that monster to out of here,” Aristide commanded. “Use the witch, Zula. And if her craft does not work, torture it until it confesses. I want to know who it works for and if that demon killed my son.”

  Crimson cackled with glee. “I will tell you that for free, Emperor. I killed your prince. I, Crimson of Mordok, sabotaged his saddle so cleverly that when Prince Justin was riding hard, his saddle snappedalong with his royal neck.”

  Aristide’s fury burst. He snatched a spear from a guard and raised his hand to spear Crimson. Darius and Thera forced him back.

  “It killed my son!” Aristide thundered. “It must die.”

  “It will die! We’ll punish it for its crimes, Father,” Darius shouted. “The beast will be executed. I swear to you, in my brother’s memory, I swear it. But we need it alive to find Lilias.”

  “Please, Your Majesty,” Thera pleaded. “This dirty changeling stole Princess Lilias. Do not let her perish. She is also a victim of this devil. I know what these demons can do. She needed Lilias alive to maintain her fake image for so long. Please! She is innocent, as your noble son was innocent.”

  Aristide’s face was a mask of conflict. Anger and pain intermingled, battling reason and the satisfaction of vengeance. He finally stepped back, lowered the spear and relented. “Very well, but I want it out of the palace. It’s too dangerous to keep it here. Lock it up in a dark cell under heavy guard. Put it in the deepest hole in the prison. No one should directly touch it until we know how it shapeshifts. Have the witch Zula cast any magic needed to prevent its escape and find Lilias. When this is over, I will be its executioner.”

  “Get the cage we prepared and take that thing away,” Darius commanded. “My father will deal with this demon later. Be careful of the blood and wash your spears when you have finished.”

  Trussed in the heavy tangle of metal netting, soldiers lifted the captive changeling and shoved her into a small metal cage. They carried Crimson away, her shrill curses poisoning the air in demon tongue.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Rose winced at the changeling’s curses. It added fresh agony to her already a
ching head. Why wasn’t Zula’s potion working? She still felt fevered and dizzy.

  Meg put her hand on Rose’s shoulder. “You better sit. Now that the changeling is captured, you can get some rest. You look terrible.”

  “Just what a girl needs to hear,” Rose quipped weakly.

  Despite her condition, Rose still wanted to help. “Prince Darius, one thing is certain, the changeling needed access to the Princess to renew the magic tether to maintain its deceptive shape. She can’t be far away. Maybe I can help find out where.”

  “Don’t worry, Rose,” Darius assured her. “You’ve risked enough. We will interrogate the changeling. You still look so ill.”

  “People keep telling me that.”

  “That’s because she is ill,” Culain added. “Commander Sparrow, escort Rose to her bedchamber.”

  “Don’t worry, Rose,” Darius added. “We’ll get it to confess where she is hiding the real Lilias with Zula’s help. You just rest.”

  “He’s right,” Meg said. “You’re still suffering from effects of the changeling’s blood.”

  “Why hasn’t Zula’s potion worked yet?” Rose asked.

  Meg looked uncertain and shook her head. “I don’t know. Zula knows her craft so well, but I’m beginning to wonder if she’s lost her touch with potions.”

  “No, I have not!” Zula interjected, strolling into the room.

  Rose was relieved to see Zula. “What’s wrong with me? I’m still so sick.”

  “Your magic is the problem,” Zula replied simply, taking her by the hand and leading her to a couch to sit her down.

  Rose rubbed her temples, feeling like her head was going to explode. “I don’t understand. How is that possible?”

  “I think I know,” Zula answered gently. “Your magical ability was latent when the changeling attacked you. There is dark magic in changeling blood that, to put it in simple terms, basically activated your magic with full force, like a defense. Your light magic, which has just come to life, is fighting its dark magic. An awakening magic like yours can cause discomfort at first. But the combined stress of the changeling attack and its toxic blood has caused the trouble. I believe your magic is fighting both the demon’s poison and my potion, like a confused child. Your fever is out of control because of it. It has been forced to assert itself in defense against the dark. That’s what’s making you sick.”

  “So, because I have this magic your potions won’t work for me?”

  Zula smiled patiently. “They will work, but I must make you a new potion to counteract the effects of what is happening to you. I know what to do now, but we need to do it fast, or your fever will continue to spiral and even kill you.”

  “I never knew magic and potions could be so tricky,” Rose replied.

  “It’s vexatious, I know. You have the glam rhapsodé and you must accept that, Rose,” Zula said. “There is no other explanation. I do not sense that you’re a witch, like me. I heard that creature howling curses when they were taking it away. What was it saying?”

  Rose shivered. “Most of it was filth. There was a curse on Culain’s loins I will never repeat and how the demons are going to eat our flesh when Morziel rises. She also called me a hideous pudgy dwarf. ”

  Zula leaned in and whispered. “There, you see?”

  “I’m not pudgy,” Rose insisted.

  “Not that,” Zula laughed, “you have the rhapsodé, because that creature was spewing out its curses in demon tongue and you understood its language. That is one of the elements of your ability.”

  “To speak demon? Not very appealing.”

  “To understand languages, once you have read them or heard the words, or in this changeling’s case, been infected by their blood. I can make a potion to compensate for your body’s reaction now that we know what we are dealing with. I must return to my shop and brew it for you. Then I will come back. But you must rest and keep your fever down. Your life may depend on it.”

  “Zula can make the potion here,” Darius offered. “Our alchemist and doctors should have all the ingredients you need.”

  “I agree,’ Culain added, “Rose needs to be healed fast.”

  “Thank you,” Zula smiled. “It is rare that two such handsome princes are so generous.”

  “Stop flirting, Zula,” Meg chastised.

  “I can help too,” Thera offered, joining their circle. “I will help care for Rose.”

  “Now, take my bardess to her bed and tuck her in,” Culain ordered with a smile. “That is my command."

  Rose nodded in agreement and allowed Meg to lead her away. When she saw the small red amulet Culain held in his hand, she sensed its dying glimmer pull at her. “That amulet can still be useful. Maybe Zula can use it for a scrying spell.” She touched the stone at its center. A flare of dark light burst and Crimson’s chaotic thoughts pierced Rose’s fevered mind again. Rose’s knees buckled.

  “Oh no, the changeling is in my head again!” Rose shouted.

  Meg shouted. “Resist it. Just snap out of it.” Meg was shaking her by the shoulders. “Can you keep it out? ROSE!”

  “Not so simple,” Rose gasped.

  Meg’s shouts faded into the distant murmurs and then into oblivion. Reality shifted. Rose was drawn into a chasm where reality and dreams merged. Everyone around her vanished from sight. The last image she gleaned from this mortal realm was Culain’s strong hands cradling her head when she collapsed to the floor.

  Weird pictures from the changeling’s mind merged with her consciousness as Rose was conveyed to a strange limbo. There, in an ethereal plane of light and shadows, she floated among the changeling’s memories. Rose became an intruding ghost in the sinister realm of Crimson’s mind. Rose was rattled by the chaos. The changeling’s thoughts were in its native demon tongue, bizarre sounds punctuated with spattered, harsh consonants and guttural vowels interspersed with hisses, grunts, and clicks. Yet, as Zula told her, she understood its callous language. She remembered Zula advice that she could save the changeling’s victim, so she allowed the mystery to take her.

  “Go deeper,” Rose whispered to herself and the strange ether carried her down. She did not resist as she tumbled deeper through the demon’s mind, searching for a sign to lead her to Crimson’s trapped victim.

  The changeling’s incensed brain sent phantasmagorias into Rose’s consciousness. Crimson wrapped herself in a ball of hatred and regret. It spat and growled, berating itself for failure, crippled by fear. Crimson’s anarchic nature was frightening. The changeling retreated into its past and Rose found herself an invisible spirit among hundreds of demons in a great cavern. A giant scarlet kobalos goblin in flowing black robes stormed like an angry god about the coming war. Demon clans knelt at his feet. Wiry common goblins with grey or green skin, squat hobgoblins, ugly changelings, rock goblins with stony pale features, and so many more breeds of demons gathered to worship this new goblin king. Crimson worshipped this goblin king. This was Mordok, where the goblins dwelled beneath the earth.

  At first, Rose shrank from the hideous visions. The roar of demons thundered and she covered her ears, squeezing her eyes shut to be away from this hell. How could Rose garner information to help if she could not find a cohesive thought?

  Her body ravaged by a rising temperature and infection, Rose feared she would perish in this ravaged dream. What if she were trapped here forever? She imagined being dead and buried, but her poor soul cursed to wander in this devil’s netherworld.

  Her deliria expanded to her mother’s spotless, sunny kitchen. Her mother frowned, crimping a pie and reprimanding her. “Foolish Rose! I told you so. Mother is always right. Girls should stay home and bake pies. Adventure leads to demons and death, but you never did listen to your poor suffering mother, you changeling child!”

  “Don’t call me that!’ Rose shouted at her phantom mother. Since she was a little girl, her mother had used that spiteful epithet when she was a naughty girl. It always vexed Rose.

  Then her mother
suddenly transformed into Crimson, and the chortling, the grotesque grey-skinned demon looked ridiculous in a ruffled pink apron. “I much prefer yummy princess pie,” the changeling tittered, shoving the pastry into the fiery oven. “Soon I’ll dine on Rose Greenleaf pie! That’s a plump morsel to saver. A bit fatty though.” The changeling ironed out dough with a rolling pin that began to bleed red.

  Rose recoiled from the wild monstrous hallucinations. “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”

  Now was not to time to obsess about her mother or stray from the path. She began to hum a tune to calm her anxiety, an old habit she engaged in whenever she was distressed after a fight with her mother. Her anxiety softened and her concentration revived. She started to sing the Raven Song, a traditional folk ballad she learned as a child.

  An idea evolved as she warbled, that the vanity of the creature might be charmed. She had the glam rhapsodé. But how could she use it? Zula had urged her to try. The legends always referred to summoning the magic through music. Rose only knew it involved more than singing, but how can she summon it? Rose recalled that brief moment when she charmed Albin and Fendrel in the woods, but she was scared and it was a defensive reaction to the trauma.

  Rose delved into the ethers of demonic consciousness to connect to Crimson directly. She had no time to think of clever rhymes, but she could sing her words to the changeling.

  “How clever you are Crimson,” Rose sang. Nothing. She paused and focused, feeling the music and when she sang, something else happened. A warm tingle, rising from her core with airy grace, enchanted her music. Was this it? Was this the power? She continued, using her song to ask the questions. “So sly the way you stole the princess! You fooled us all. How did you do it? We are all so envious. You must tell us how you did it.” She felt stronger now, able to stand the terror that walled her in this strange medium. She sensed Crimson’s pride bloom with Rose’s musical praise.

  Images of Crimson’s past fluttered into Rose’s mind now as she hummed and its ego gloated over its many victories. Rose guided her to the more recent victory of Lilias. Infiltrating the kingdom was easy for the changeling. Crimson thieved the Princess from her own bed and bound her by sinister magic into a dreamless waking sleep first. Then Crimson lead an enthralled Lilias to a forsaken crypt where she was cocooned by the demon’s own excretion of webs, spinning the silken, sticky material from its own finger pads until the Princess was mummified. Crimson clutched two amulets of small dark jewels on a chain. One she placed on the entombed Princess and the other it placed around its neck.