by Aaron Ehasz
When the doctor finished looking at Soren, she walked directly to Claudia. Claudia jumped up—it had to be good news. She couldn’t accept anything less.
“Well? How long will it take for him to get better?” Claudia asked.
The doctor’s bland expression didn’t change. “He’s not going to get better,” she said.
“What?” Claudia asked. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe this doctor was a total incompetent.
“He won’t die,” the doctor said in the same matter-of-fact tone. “He’s lucky to have survived a direct attack from a dragon. But he’s never going to walk again.”
Claudia sat down. Poor Soren. His physical strength was everything to him. How would he ever cope with this injury?
“I haven’t told him yet,” the doctor said.
“Don’t,” Claudia said softly. “I’ll tell him. He should hear it from me.”
Claudia smoothed back her hair and took a deep breath. Then she walked into Soren’s room.
The sick room was filled with brilliant sunlight. The contrast between the beautiful weather and the news she had to deliver made Claudia’s task seem that much more depressing. When Claudia saw Soren’s big strong neck in a splint, she almost started to cry.
Stop it. She had to be strong for him.
“Hey, Sor-sor,” Claudia said. She sat at his bedside and rubbed his arm. “All the people in town are talking about you. About how you faced the dragon and saved the town. Everyone’s calling you a hero.”
“Saved them from a problem I caused, maybe,” Soren said. “Is that what heroes do?”
He sounded so depressed. So down on himself. Claudia wondered if this was the right time to tell him that his injury was permanent. She brushed those thoughts away. Soren had to know the truth.
“So. I talked to the doctor,” Claudia said. “And I guess they did some test.” She paused.
“I already know,” Soren said.
“You know what?” she asked.
“I can’t move. I can’t walk,” Soren said. “And it’s not going to get better.” He looked away, out a window.
Claudia followed his gaze. Outside, some kids were running by, laughing and playing.
“I don’t want you to pity me, Claudia,” Soren said. “It’s for the best. I’m glad I can’t move.”
“What are you talking about?” Claudia asked. “Soren, why would you say that?”
“Remember when I was eating all those jelly tarts before we left?” Soren asked. Claudia nodded. “It was because Dad gave me a secret mission that was really stressing me out.”
“He did?” Claudia asked. This was surprising. Their father usually entrusted the secret missions to her alone.
“I was confused, and I didn’t want to do it,” Soren said. “But I do want Dad to love me and be proud of me.” Soren sucked in his breath.
“He is proud of you no matter what,” Claudia said. She put a hand on Soren’s cheek. She knew she was her dad’s favorite, but it was just because she was more like their father than Soren was. Claudia knew that deep down, Viren loved his son. Deep, deep down.
“And Dad is so smart, so I figured there must be a good reason for the mission,” Soren said.
“Soren. What exactly did Dad ask you to do?”
Soren stared at the ceiling. “You know what, don’t worry about it, Clauds,” he said. “It’s not important now.”
“What are you getting at, Soren?” Claudia asked. “You know you can trust me. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”
Soren nodded. “Dad told me to kill the princes.”
Claudia’s face darkened with disbelief. Had she heard him right?
“Kill the princes?” Claudia repeated. She was glad she’d gotten the story out of him, but now she had to tell him he was wrong.
Soren nodded.
Claudia felt bad for her brother. Clearly, he believed those had been his instructions. “No, no, that can’t be right,” Claudia said, shaking her head. “You must have misunderstood.”
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t believe me,” Soren said. “Now I can’t do anything terrible to the princes, because now I can’t do anything.”
Was it possible? Her father was capable of a great many things, but ordering the execution of King Harrow’s sons? Claudia didn’t want to believe it. At the same time, Soren did seem relieved that he couldn’t walk. And that was just impossible to understand … unless he was telling the truth.
Viren snuck over to the castle library. After his encounter with Opeli, he had a feeling that the council would soon force him to face consequences. If he was going to utilize his mysterious new friend in some way, he was going to have to act fast.
As he turned a corner, two guards walked by, and Viren flattened himself against the wall. Yes, it was happening already—Opeli probably had the entire Crownguard on the hunt for the “treacherous” high mage. Viren strode through the stacks of the library, pulling out books and scrolls. Anything with even the slightest relevance he piled into his arms. He dumped the enormous stack on a table and began to pore over the tomes.
“Let’s see here. Aaravos … Aaravos … there!” His finger came to rest on the word Aaravos, but before he could read anything, all the text surrounding the name blacked out before his eyes, as if black ink had been spilled and was soaking into the paper. Somehow the name Aaravos and everything associated with it was being magically redacted.
“What? What’s going on here?” He unfurled another scroll, and his finger alighted on the name Aaravos again. But immediately the words and passages turned to black blobs. “What is happening!” Viren hollered. Never in his life had he witnessed anything like this.
“Shhhh! You are in a library.”
Viren turned. The librarian was giving him a warning glare.
Viren looked around. There was no one else in the library. “Yes, I’m quite aware I’m in a—”
“SHHHHHHH!!” She shook her head disapprovingly.
The library was useless anyway. Viren slammed a couple of books shut for good measure and glowered at the librarian on his way out.
He hustled back through the hallways to his office, altering his usual path slightly to avoid an encounter with several more guards. Once in his office, he proceeded down to his secret chamber without delay. He closed the door behind him and stood before the mirror.
“What’s going on, Aaravos? Every time I found a mention of you in an ancient scroll or tome, the entire passage disappeared as soon as I looked. What game are you playing?” he demanded.
Viren waited for an answer. Aaravos was reading a book. He seemed highly engrossed and was not paying Viren much mind. Unhurriedly, Aaravos placed the book down and walked over to face Viren. He nodded his head at the glass jar with the caterpillar in it, and tapped his ear.
Viren had momentarily forgotten their appalling means of communication. He yanked the top off the jar and stuck the caterpillar onto his own ear.
“Why should I trust you?” Viren asked softly. He was regaining his equilibrium.
“You shouldn’t,” Aaravos said. “Yet.”
This might be the first bit of honesty the mystery mage had uttered. But Viren remained wary. “I should end this right now,” Viren said. “Throw the mirror into a river and cut you off forever.” The thought of destroying the mirror made Viren’s heart rate fall a little. Even so, he hoped Aaravos would panic at the thought.
The elf remained unnervingly calm.
“You won’t,” Aaravos said. “You are too curious. Hungry for knowledge and power. Both things I can provide.”
Viren thought for a moment. He hated how well Aaravos could read him.
“Allow me to earn your trust,” Aaravos suggested.
“How would that work exactly?” Viren asked. But Aaravos had his attention.
“Search your heart,” Aaravos said. “There’s something that you want very badly. But—something or someone stands in your way.”
Viren conte
mplated the suggestion. What he wanted most of all was to unite the five kingdoms against Xadia. But that union seemed like wishful thinking now. Opeli had probably already sent crows to tell the other kingdoms of his treachery. He wondered if Aaravos could help him out of this unfortunate situation.
“I am having a problem getting some people to listen to me,” Viren said. “They refuse to hear the importance of what I am saying.”
“Who are these people?” Aaravos asked.
“They are kings and queens—the leaders of the other four human kingdoms …” Viren replied. He sat down in his chair. Just thinking of their stubborn attitudes made him furious all over again.
“Then we will have to get their attention,” Aaravos said with a smile.
Claudia was pacing the hospital room. She couldn’t believe Soren’s attitude. Initially, he’d seemed devastated by his prognosis, but his frame of mind had improved. In fact, he seemed to be in good spirits.
“It’s okay, Clauds,” Soren said. “I’m relieved, actually. I’m free to do what I want, with no expectations from Dad, or anyone.”
“So, what are you going to do with this newfound freedom?” Claudia asked. Soren was lying flat on a bed, and presumably would for the rest of his life. He did not look free to her.
“I’ve been thinking about that for the last ten minutes,” Soren said. “I’ve decided I’m going to reinvent myself.”
What could her brother possibly want to do for his second career? Now he’d piqued Claudia’s interest.
“I’m going to be a poet, Claudia!”
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAH.” It was a relief to laugh. Then Claudia looked at Soren. He wasn’t even smiling. “You’re not joking?” she asked.
“I’m going to be a poet, and people will come to hear my poems. They’ll come visit me, and we’ll drink some kind of soothing tea. And then I’ll say my latest poems to them.”
“Soren, are you sure?” Claudia asked. It was hard to imagine this plan working out well.
“I already have my first poem. It’s a haiku,” Soren said. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”
“Uh. Okay. Ready,” Claudia said. She plastered a fake smile across her face.
Before Soren delivered his poem, he took a long, easy breath, and his expression became more placid than Claudia had ever seen. Soren recited:
Dragon smash boy
Say the good words now
They light the hearts of other people
Claudia stared back at him. She counted the syllables on her fingers.
“Do you like it?” Soren asked. “I’m inspiring, right?”
“No, Soren. No. That was a terrible poem. And it … it’s not even a haiku!”
“How can it not be a haiku?” Soren retorted.
“It has the wrong number of syllables,” Claudia answered.
“Maybe I’m innovating on the form!” Soren shot back.
“But the whole point of a haiku is that when you count—”
“Well, I’m rebelling against the tyranny of the haiku!”
Claudia thought she might cry. Soren could not live out his days as a poet. He would be the joke of Katolis. She had to do something.
She opened one cupboard and tossed aside its contents. There had to be something in here that could heal her brother. She threw open another cabinet and did the same. Bandages and medicine crashed to the floor, but she didn’t care.
“I can’t leave you like this,” she said to Soren, or maybe to herself. “There must be a solution.”
She opened several drawers and then slammed them shut. She didn’t even know what she was looking for, but she knew she had to find something.
“Dragon smash boy,” she muttered. More like “dragon smash bozo.”
She had to fix this. HOW would she fix this?!
The doctor and a nurse entered the room as gauze and tonics flew from the shelves.
“You need to calm down,” the doctor said to Claudia.
“No, I don’t, you need to … calm up!” she shouted. “You need to help him!” Tears were streaming down her face.
The doctor and nurse each grabbed one of Claudia’s arms. “This is a hospital, miss; we’re going to have to assist you out of here.”
As they marched her out of the room, Claudia only became more upset. Didn’t they understand that this was her brother? Her sword-spinning, muscle-bound, crown-guard brother? She often teased him about all that physical bravado, but the reality was, it was all Soren had. Claudia would never have wished this on him. It would be like telling her she couldn’t do magic.
“He can’t be like this—he can’t even count syllables!” she wailed.
The doctor and nurse escorted Claudia through the waiting room and kicked her out of the hospital. She fell with a thump onto the town street. The door slammed shut behind her with a decisive BANG.
From an open window, Claudia thought she could hear her brother working on another poem.
Oh, how I miss
My dark-magic sis
I drank too much water
And now I must … use the bathroom
Nurse!
Corvus paced back and forth outside the mountain cave, furious with himself. It had been hours, and the young king had still not returned.
“The king is missing,” Corvus told Rayla, Zym, and Bait.
“He’s not ‘missing,’ he just went for a walk,” Rayla said.
“And he hasn’t returned, and we don’t know where he is,” Corvus said.
“Right,” Rayla said.
“That is the definition of missing,” Corvus said. He was willing to tolerate this elf who had apparently befriended King Ezran, but he wasn’t going to let her redefine words.
Rayla counted on her fingers, putting things together. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, he’s missing.”
“You shouldn’t have let him go,” Corvus said. “We need to find him.”
“Aren’t you a tracker?” Rayla asked. “Isn’t this your whole job?”
“Yes,” Corvus said. He was a terrific tracker. He hadn’t wanted to encroach on the young king’s mourning, but now King Ezran had been gone too long. Corvus would show the elf exactly what he could do. “I shall bring the king back safely. You have my word.”
Corvus picked up where he’d left off, tracking Ezran through the woods. He noted broken twigs, trails of mud, and the king’s tiny footprints.
“You’re making this easy for me, young king,” he said. Corvus’s mood brightened as he followed the footprints. But very suddenly, they ended. Where the footprints ought to have been, Corvus saw giant animal prints instead. Judging from the size and shape, the prints could only belong to a banther, an enormous deadly beast that was larger than a bear and faster than a panther. Corvus’s heart fell. “Oh no! This can’t be happening,” he said. He turned around and took off running back to the cave.
Corvus paused at the entrance of the cave to catch his breath. He swallowed. He really did not want to give Rayla bad news about Ezran. He was emotionally drained and not up for a fight. But he peeked into the cave and beckoned to Rayla to come out so he could speak with her.
“What’s wrong?” Rayla asked. “What happened, did you lose his trail?”
“No. It’s worse than that,” Corvus said.
“What do you mean?” Rayla asked.
“King Ezran’s trail ends,” Corvus said. “Very clearly and very badly. His footprints are replaced by banther tracks. The king has been eaten by a banther.”
“HAHAHAHAHA.” Rayla was laughing so hard tears were streaming down her face. “Great job; you’ve lost the King of Katolis.”
“This isn’t funny,” Corvus said, scratching his beard. He’d been prepared for Rayla to pull her blades on him. She was certainly unpredictable. “Why are you laughing?”
“Your king happens to be a very special boy. He can talk to animals,” Rayla said. “So, if there are banther tracks, it means Ezran caught a ride on the banther, not inside the banthe
r.”
Still laughing, Rayla turned her back on Corvus and returned to Callum’s side.
Corvus chafed. Once again, the elf had gotten the better of him. On the other hand, at least the king was safe.
GRRRRRRRR.
The banther growled as he and Ezran emerged out of a tunnel into the light of an alley. There was a shadow at the end of the street.
Ezran listened closely. The shadow seemed to be chanting something. “There is no synonym for cinnamon, there is no synonym for cinnamon.” The voice grew louder as the shadow approached them. Ezran laughed to himself.
“It’s okay,” Ezran whispered to the banther. He was sitting on top of the enormous beast. He placed one small hand on the top of its head. “It’s just Claudia.”
“Ezran?!” Claudia gasped.
“Hi, Claudia,” Ezran said. “I guess you weren’t expecting to see me here.” Ezran wasn’t quite sure what to say to Claudia. He liked her, he missed her, but he didn’t really trust her anymore.
Ezran decided to remain sitting atop the enormous black banther. Claudia looked a little bit intimidated, and this was okay with him. Ezran kept his hands buried deep in the animal’s bristly fur. This banther had a warm heart and a love of children, but based on its ferocious appearance, Ezran doubted Claudia would pick up on those qualities. And the banther didn’t warm to Claudia either. It immediately growled at her, and she kept her distance.
“Ezran, I hope you know I never meant to hurt you or Callum,” Claudia said.
Ezran looked at Claudia carefully. She was backing away slowly as she spoke, pulling on the sleeves of her dress and twirling her long hair.
“It was scary, Claudia,” he said, “how you acted.” Ezran had never thought of Claudia as anything but a friend, but then she lied to him and Callum and attempted to capture them using dark magic. Then she tried to kidnap Zym. Ezran always looked for the best in people, but he didn’t know what to think about Claudia anymore.
“I know,” Claudia said. She looked genuinely remorseful. “And I am so sorry.”