by Aaron Ehasz
It was daytime on the top deck of the Ruthless, and for all Callum knew, they’d been on the boat for months. The passage of time seemed to stop on the wide-open water, with no landmarks to tell them if or how far they were progressing.
Captain Villads tilted his head back and sniffed.
“Ah yes, the smell of land …”
“Woo-hoo,” Ezran yelled.
“Oh, sweet land,” Rayla cried.
“Finally,” Callum said.
“Let him finish,” Berto squawked.
“The faint, distant smell of land, that is,” Villads said.
“There it is,” Berto squawked.
“I’d say about a full day of sailing ahead until we reach the shore,” Villads said.
A day could have been a year as far as Callum was concerned. Ezran and Zym walked to the railing to resume counting clouds, while Rayla dropped to a seated position on the deck. She was clutching her stomach again.
“Hmm. Nothing really fun to do,” Callum said. “Guess I’ll go downstairs and draw a picture of myself having fun.” He walked to the hatch leading belowdecks and descended the stairs, shutting the hatch behind him softly. Then he pulled out the letter from King Harrow. The last letter he would ever get from his stepdad.
Callum traced the red wax seal with his finger and picked at the edges. He realized his hands were shaking, and he put the letter down next to him. He closed his eyes and took a long, slow inhale. Then he grabbed the letter in his fist.
Bait was tired of sunning himself on the deck of the Ruthless and decided to see what Ezran and Zym were up to. Last he’d heard, they were going to count clouds, which sounded awfully dull. But Bait was lonely.
When he found them, Ezran and Zym had fallen asleep curled next to each other. Bait assumed out of boredom.
Bait didn’t mind the little blue dragon, especially since Zym treated him with the utmost respect, but if he was going to be honest, he was a little jealous of all the time Ezran had been spending with Zym. No, he was a lot jealous.
Bait decided he could go for a snooze too. He tried to nuzzle himself into the Zym and Ezran cuddle. But every time he got comfortable, the pair would change positions, squeezing him out.
Finally, Bait gave up. He felt dejected and especially grumpy. So he turned around and headed to the hatch belowdecks. The steps down the hatch were intimidating. Bait didn’t think his little froggy legs could manage them gracefully. So, he began jumping down, step by step.
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
This method of descent proved effective, but it was stoking Bait’s appetite. He hoped he’d find a tart or cake down in the hatch. Even a stale biscuit would do.
“Hey, can’t a guy get a couple of minutes of below-deck privacy around here?” an angry voice yelled.
Bait fell down the next two stairs.
THUD. THUD. He was almost at the bottom now.
“I’m serious, leave me alone—”
Why was Callum shouting at him? Bait looked up at his friend. Callum was sitting on a bench by himself, swinging his legs. Didn’t he want some company? Why didn’t anyone want to play?
Bait felt all the glow go out of him. He was pretty sure he was changing colors. This was so embarrassing. Now Callum would know he was sad. Bait turned around and began to climb back up the stairs.
“Hey, wait,” Callum said. “Why don’t you join me down here? I could use a little extra light.”
Bait turned around once more. Callum wasn’t kidding—belowdecks was overly dark.
Bait’s entire body brightened. Callum needed him. He headed over and jumped up on the bench with a THUD.
The promising responses from the four other human kingdoms set Viren in motion. Each and every ruler had expressed their desire to hear more about the Xadian threat. They had agreed to a summit of the Pentarchy: a special meeting of the leaders of the five kingdoms.
The first summit of the Pentarchy had been held centuries ago, and it had brought an end to the Mage Wars and created the modern order of the five human kingdoms. These summits were held at a neutral location at the top of Allhaven Hill, in a round temple. Though the hill was technically located in Duren, a former king of Duren had declared this lone hill to be neutral territory many generations ago. According to legend, when someone asked the king if this hill was now a “no-man’s-land,” the wise king smiled and said, “Quite the contrary, it belongs to all humanity.”
They all want to meet with you. They think of you as the leader of Katolis.
Viren could barely wait for the meeting. These leaders had only seen him on the sidelines. But he knew all about them. There was King Ahling, the affable monarch of Neolandia, whose sole purpose was to enjoy his life. King Ahling was known across the kingdoms for his love of food, music, and wines. He was not known for his wisdom in any of the kingdoms.
Then there was Queen Fareeda of Evenere. The stately queen stood as tall as her male counterparts and wore her dark red hair piled into a tower above her head. She was the friendliest of the bunch, in Viren’s opinion, but also the most cautious.
King Florian of Del Bar would be putty in Viren’s hands. The high mage had never heard of King Florian having an original thought.
And then, of course, there would be the regent of Duren, who made decisions for the child queen Aanya until she came of age. The regent was bound by certain constraints that would work in Viren’s favor. As long as they all believed the setup—that Viren was now regent of Katolis—he would have a unified group of kingdoms to work with.
Viren traveled with very little. His sole aim was to convince the other leaders of the dire circumstances humans were in and rally them together against the elves. To that end, he carried with him a large, enchanted scroll to make his presentation. His sorcery would terrify and unite the kingdoms.
Viren and the Crownguard rode through the night for the meeting. Just after sunrise, they reached the base of the hill.
A guard standing in front of a massive stone arch held up his hand to prevent Viren from continuing.
“Halt!” the guard cried.
Viren pulled his horse to slow.
“Dismount, disarm, and proceed alone to the meeting point,” the guard said. He pushed a large wooden box in Viren’s direction. Viren tried to push the box aside, but the guard pushed it back. “For your weapons, sir,” he said.
For once, can’t these imbeciles treat me appropriately? Maybe when I save them all from Xadia I’ll be greeted with greater respect.
“I suppose ‘Welcome, Lord Viren’ would have been too much to ask,” Viren said. He would keep his baser thoughts to himself.
“You’ll be officially welcomed when you are disarmed,” the guard said in a monotone.
Viren dismounted, carrying the huge rolled scroll and his staff. He arched one eyebrow at the wooden box and handed the staff directly to the guard. The guard tossed the staff into a pile with all the other weapons.
“Welcome,” he grunted.
“How gracious,” Viren said.
The guard gestured to a path that ascended a mossy green hill. Viren looked in front of him and trudged up alone, carrying nothing but his scroll. It was a beautiful walk up to the grand rotunda at the summit. Though the monarchs referred to it as the “gazebo,” it was no quaint wooden structure but rather a stately building, made of fine marble with a soaring dome.
When Viren reached the great doors, he sighed with satisfaction. This was the place where the leaders of the five human kingdoms had been meeting for centuries. And now Viren was a part of this legacy. Despite disagreements among the kingdoms, when the leaders visited this place of peace and beauty, they often put aside their differences in an attempt at resolution.
Three of the monarchs were already there.
“You’re the fourth to arrive,” King Ahling announced. His portly body nearly enveloped his throne. He stroked his graying beard and mustache slowly, but Viren could tell the king was smiling
under all that facial hair. Whatever he lacked in intellect, King Ahling was a good-humored soul.
“May I say on behalf of Neolandia and all the other kingdoms … we were deeply saddened to hear of King Harrow’s passing,” King Ahling added.
Viren placed a hand over his heart. It struck him to hear someone else speak of the king’s death. Somehow, the tragedy seemed that much more real. “Thank you, King Ahling. That means a lot,” Viren said.
“But,” King Ahling said, “we were reassured when we received the scroll informing us that you would be the regent of Katolis until the young King Ezran comes of age.”
Viren kept his gaze steady. It seemed the other rulers had not doubted his lie. They accepted at face value not only that Ezran was alive, but that Viren had been made regent. And why wouldn’t they accept it? In a more rational world, it would be true, and the council would have entrusted me with the leadership of Katolis.
Still, Viren knew he couldn’t let any false movements or words betray his secret. He bowed to the other leaders. “It is humbling to be trusted with the boy’s education and training, as well as decisions of state,” Viren said. “And speaking of regents—it seems we are only waiting on the regent of Duren?” Viren asked.
The other leaders nodded and started to murmur. Duren had always had a reputation for timeliness.
“I apologize for my lateness,” a child’s voice said. A short, slim figure stood in the enormous doorway. The figure walked into the room briskly with her head held high. Her blond hair was piled on top of her head in a neat bun, and her long white dress was cut sensibly—pleated neatly for horseback riding. Viren stared. This was the eleven-year-old queen, Aanya.
“Queen Aanya,” Queen Fareeda said warmly.
“Aanya of Duren—how you’ve grown,” King Ahling said. “Welcome.”
Viren smiled at Aanya as she took her place in the circle. “We are here to discuss some rather weighty matters,” Viren said. “Will your regent be joining us soon?” Aanya had been queen since she was orphaned as a baby. Until now, Viren had only seen her appear with an older adviser, her regent.
“I speak for myself now,” the queen said with stark confidence. “And for my people.”
Viren hesitated, looking around at the other leaders for signs of concern. Not finding any, he decided to say something himself. “This is a very serious situation. I intend no offense, but these issues require an adult perspective.”
Expecting to intimidate Aanya as he did his own children, Viren blanched when the barely adolescent queen looked him directly in the eye.
“It seems I am a crown without an adult, and you’re an adult without a crown,” Queen Aanya said. “Let’s just begin.” She walked over to the throne for Duren and sat stiffly.
Viren thought he heard a chuckle from across the room, but decided to let it slide. “Very well,” he said. He paused, gazing around the room and making eye contact with each leader. “I called us here today … because I am afraid. I am scared. Terrified!”
Viren walked to the center of the room, carrying his enormous scroll. With a grandiose gesture, he unfurled a map of Xadia and the five kingdoms that ran the length of the rotunda floor. Viren sprinkled magic dust over the map, a powder derived from dried Xadian moon-night mushrooms. The map immediately appeared to come to life, becoming three-dimensional. Whether the powder affected the map itself or distorted the perception of the viewers was unclear, but the important thing was that it would bring out the visual and emotional impact of the disturbing history lesson Viren was about to commence.
“After centuries of fighting among ourselves, the five human kingdoms finally found a balance—an era of peace.” Viren looked around and observed the other leaders nodding. “But a new threat has arisen to challenge all humanity: a threat from Xadia.” Viren waved his hand over the map again, and blue winds arose from the parchment, whipping through the rotunda. The walls of the chamber suddenly faded to black, and apparitions of Moonshadow elves appeared on the walls. The apparitions were ominous—dark black shadows with glowing red eyes.
King Ahling screamed. Queen Fareeda fanned her face with her hands. And King Florian jumped out of his throne.
The effect on his audience was exactly what Viren had intended.
“On the night of the full moon,” he continued, “the Dragon Queen sent assassins, Moonshadow elves, over the border. They murdered King Harrow.”
The terrifying apparitions started to move across the floor, brandishing their weapons. As they approached the human leaders, some gasped in fright at the illusions.
“Now Sunfire elves are gathering near the border,” Viren said. At once, the walls became red apparitions of fiery Sunfire elves moving like waves of flame.
“An invasion is imminent. Even worse, there are reports of shadows in the clouds. We think dragons are flying high above the towns of Katolis.” Viren closed his eyes. “When I close my eyes, I see fire raining down, death and destruction everywhere.”
In a final dramatic flourish, Viren swept his hand over the map to create the illusion of a swelling, uncontrollable inferno.
“It won’t stop in Katolis,” Viren said. “They will spread their wrath to all the human kingdoms soon enough.”
At this point the entire map had been consumed by the blazing hellfire. The other leaders strained backward in their chairs to get away from the fake flames. Except, of course, for King Florian, who had backed up against the rotunda walls long before.
“The time to stop Xadia is now!” Viren shouted. He swept his arm in the air and closed his fist. In an instant, he’d extinguished the fire effect, and the other leaders relaxed. “We must stand together to protect our common humanity. I call on you to join me, to join Katolis: fight beside one another to drive back this threat.”
Viren looked around. He knew his performance had shocked the others. King Ahling sat with his mouth agape. The other monarchs appeared equally awed—although Queen Aanya’s reaction was inscrutable.
Viren looked around the room, waiting for the supportive reactions he expected to receive.
“Lord Viren,” King Ahling said. “The people of Neolandia understand the common humanity that binds us. If the other kingdoms agree to act in unity, we will commit to this alliance.”
“Yes,” Queen Fareeda said. “In unity, you will have our support as well.”
“King Florian?” Viren asked.
King Florian looked to the others, then back to Viren. “If we are all agreed—then the kingdom of Del Bar will join you,” he said.
“Very well.” Viren smiled. “And Queen Aanya. What say you?”
Queen Aanya said nothing.
Viren’s smile wavered. As the silence continued, it turned into a frown. Could it be, he’d traveled so far, taken so many risks, all to have his plans thwarted by a little girl?
Finally, she spoke.
“I am undecided,” Queen Aanya said.
“Undecided?!” Viren couldn’t believe that his magical presentation had failed to convince. What could she possibly be worried about?
“Yes, it means I’ve yet to make up my mind,” Queen Aanya said.
Viren pressed his lips together lest he say something he would regret. He addressed everyone but the young queen. “This is why we need an adult,” he said. “A leader who can make strong choices for their kingdom. Everyone else here was capable of making a decision.”
“I won’t send my armies to face unknown danger based on a two-minute speech,” Queen Aanya said. “I may be a child, but apparently, I’m the least impulsive of us all. Besides, I hardly call ‘we’ll do what everyone else does’ a decision.”
“She’s got a fair point,” King Ahling said. He chuckled.
Though he had never considered the monarch of Neolandia a genius, how King Ahling could laugh at a time like this was beyond Viren’s comprehension. He collected himself once again and approached Queen Aanya—more calmly.
“Perhaps I was rash in my words. I apo
logize. You are a young queen, but evidently far wiser than your years.” Viren bowed deeply.
But the tiny blond wisp of a leader did not take to buttering up.
“As a child ruler, I have had to survive adults trying to usurp my throne, coups, conspiracies, and assassination attempts,” she said. “But sometimes it’s not the hard threats, but the soft threats, that are the worst. Sweet words can be more dangerous than hidden daggers.”
Viren seethed.
“My nineteen-year-old doesn’t know half the words you just said,” King Ahling said. He seemed to be amused by his own child’s failings. “And he still fights back about eating his vegetables.”
Viren ignored King Ahling. If Queen Aanya was truly undecided, he believed he could convince her to join him with another incredible story, one that the young queen would find considerably more personal. “Queen Aanya, would you allow me to share a story with you? A story of a time when our kingdoms worked together to achieve something … miraculous?”
She nodded.
“Nine years ago, my oldest friend, Prince Harrow, became the King of Katolis,” Viren began. “I remember the coronation as if it were only yesterday.” Viren closed his eyes to visualize the coronation.
Viren gazed over the cheering crowd and then back at his friend, the crown prince. Prince Harrow was kneeling on the grand balcony in front of the people. His head was bowed, and the low dusky sunlight shone on his jet-black dreadlocks. As the high cleric placed the crown on Harrow’s head, Viren breathed with excitement and clapped for the young monarchs.
The new king stood and grabbed Queen Sarai’s hand, then turned to face the crowd.
“I want to make a difference!” Harrow shouted to the crowd.
Viren believed that Harrow would do just that. He had the support of his wonderful wife. Viren watched as Sarai brushed a lock of hair from King Harrow’s face and cupped his chin in her hand. “You will,” she told her husband. “You’ll be a champion of love and justice. And I’ll be fighting by your side.”
Viren was proud to be the high mage to King Harrow. Though he had served the previous king, Viren had known the prince—the new king, rather—since they were teens. He knew Harrow to be humble, approachable, friendly, and funny. He seemed to truly care. Viren admired how Harrow paid attention to people no matter who they were, and showed them respect and kindness.