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Sky

Page 22

by Aaron Ehasz


  One second passed, then two. Still no magic flicker. He held his breath.

  Could he have fooled himself again?

  He reset his shoulders and held his fingers out once more. Breathe, Callum, breathe. This time, instead of holding his breath, he let out a deep, slow exhale.

  Suddenly a spark flew from the tip of Callum’s finger. He felt his entire body melt into the air around him.

  “ASPIRO.” Callum exhaled. He pushed all the air out of his lungs, and he could feel all the difference. It wasn’t a normal breath. A powerful blast of wind erupted from his lips. The wind rushed around his ears and nipped at his cheeks.

  Callum had done it—primal magic! He had figured out the Sky arcanum!

  The magic wind swirled and grew stronger. Callum closed his eyes and grinned as it gusted around him. This felt right. This was his destiny. He soaked it all in, feeling more like himself than he ever had before. The connection he felt with each and every breath to the vastness of the sky itself was undeniable. He understood it deeply, with his mind, his body, and his spirit—his head, hand, and heart.

  When he’d had enough, Callum let the magic gently die down. Now that he knew he could do that, he was sure he’d be doing it again soon. He took one last deep breath, then opened his eyes. There was still a huge grin on his face.

  But immediately, his joy turned to confusion. Ezran was walking up the path to the cave with a large, very strong-looking man trailing a few feet behind him.

  Rayla ran over to them. “Ezran, you’re back!” She hugged him.

  “He was gone?” Callum asked. How long had he been asleep?

  Ezran beamed at his brother. “Callum, you figured it out! You can do magic again!” he said. “I knew it would happen.”

  “That’s incredible, Prince Callum,” Corvus said.

  “Thanks,” Callum said. “Um, who are you?”

  “You missed a few things while you were out,” Rayla said. “This is Corvus. He’s on our side now.”

  “I’ve always been on the same side,” Corvus said. “I serve the young king.”

  “What?” asked Callum, furrowing his brow. Then realization dawned on him. He turned to Ezran.

  “I know about Dad,” Ezran said.

  Callum looked at his feet. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you,” he said. “I tried to, but I just couldn’t.”

  Ezran didn’t answer. He just wrapped his arms around his brother.

  All the animals had cleared out of the grove except for one young fawn. Claudia sat cross-legged on the ground, and the fawn approached her curiously. She offered it a milk-fruit.

  As it enjoyed the fruit, Claudia stroked the baby deer’s head gently. It was sweet and innocent. A beautiful tawny fawn with lovely white spots. It lifted its chin so Claudia could scratch underneath. A single tear trickled down Claudia’s face.

  “I’m sorry, little one. But you are agile, young, and alive,” she said. Claudia touched the deer on its soft nose. “And I need you.”

  The deer gazed up at her with its milky-brown eyes. Her heart began to melt, but she closed her eyes and thought of Soren. She loved her brother so much.

  With her eyes still closed, Claudia thought of her father. She remembered as a small child accidentally eavesdropping on an argument Viren was having with “the old one.” She had snuck into Kpp’Ar’s “puzzle house” and was hiding in one of the passages when she overheard the angry yelling. She could still hear her father shouting at Kpp’Ar, “I will do anything to protect my family—however dangerous! However vile!” Little Claudia was scared, but she knew her father loved them more than anything.

  Claudia opened her eyes again.

  Then she did what she had to do. She wrapped her bare hands around the fawn’s neck, attempting to snap the bones, to kill it quickly and minimize its suffering. But Claudia had never killed an animal this size before, and she wasn’t strong enough to make a clean kill. The fawn thrashed about, kicking its legs in a panic, milk-fruit spewing from its soft muzzle.

  Would it ever die? How long could this baby animal possibly struggle? Just as Claudia thought she might have to let the deer go, it gasped its last breath. Claudia held the still-warm fawn in her arms, trying not to look at its glassy eyes.

  With a shaking hand, Claudia found the proper page in her spell book and began chanting, “Nekorb eht laeh dna wolf, evila dna gnuoy eliga tserof fo doolbefil!”

  Almost immediately, Claudia felt overcome by a power she had never felt before. Her entire body was possessed with the lifeblood of the now-dead fawn. She left the young animal on the forest floor and turned toward the town.

  Walking felt like floating. Claudia had never felt so alive and so energized. She barely noticed the townspeople staring at her as she glided through the streets. When she burst through the hospital doors, Claudia’s eyes were ablaze, and her entire body vibrated softly.

  “You can’t be in here,” the town doctor yelled.

  Claudia brushed by her.

  “The patient needs rest,” the doctor insisted.

  Claudia shoved the doctor to the ground and entered Soren’s room. A glowing aura burst from her every pore. She was invincible.

  “Claudia? Wh-what are you doing?” Soren asked. He sounded worried—scared even—but she ignored him. She grabbed Soren in her electrified hands and pushed the healing energy into his broken body.

  Soren began to scream. His body convulsed as the magic surged through him. He rose into the air above the hospital bed.

  Claudia watched Soren’s agony, but she didn’t waver for a moment. It’s working! It’s working! Nothing else mattered.

  When she’d filled his body with magic, Claudia stepped back, and Soren slammed down onto the bed again. Claudia could feel the eyes of the doctors and nurses on her, but she didn’t care.

  Finally, it was over. Claudia slumped to the ground, spent. She was too tired to speak.

  “Hey. What’s this?” Soren asked. “I can move my toes. I CAN MOVE MY TOES! I forgot how much I love wiggling them. I can feel again! I can feel my knees, and my strong powerful thighs.” Soren grabbed his own thighs in admiration. “And my ribs—OHH!! I broke ribs, didn’t I? It’s horrible! I can feel again! Ahhh!”

  Claudia could hear his excitement and she knew her spell had worked, but she was too exhausted to respond. Her dad had warned her to use dark magic sparingly. The very process could deplete a human being. Of course, her father was correct, but Soren had been in a dire situation. If there had ever been a time to use powerful magic, this was it.

  “Claudia?” Soren said. “Claudia, are you okay?”

  She picked her head up to look at her brother, whose huge grin collapsed into a frown when he saw her face.

  “Your hair,” Soren said. “Look, look at your hair.”

  “I can’t see my own hair, Soren,” Claudia mumbled.

  “It’s white—white like an elf’s,” Soren said. “Well, at least part of it is.”

  Claudia caught a glimpse of herself in the glass of a medicine cabinet. There was a three-inch-wide white streak through her otherwise black hair.

  “You’re going to be better now,” she said. “That’s all that matters.”

  Outside the mouth of the cave, Ezran watched the sun setting. On the one hand, he was relieved that Callum was recovering and would be able to continue the journey to Xadia. On the other hand, he felt a lump of dread in his chest because his own situation had changed. He knew he could not continue on to Xadia with Callum, Rayla, and Zym. He was the King of Katolis, and his responsibility was to his people.

  Ezran was trying to think of a way to break this news when Rayla burst out of the cave, smiling for the first time in a while.

  “Everything’s packed, and everyone’s healthy!” Rayla said. “And we’re just a few hours from the border of Xadia.”

  “Packed and ready,” Callum said, emerging from the cave. “Let’s do this.”

  But Ezran did
n’t return their smiles. He inhaled deeply and turned to Rayla and Callum.

  “I’m not coming with you,” he said. He wanted to look away, but he forced himself to hold their gaze.

  Callum and Rayla seemed stunned into silence. Ezran felt he should explain his decision.

  “Callum,” he said, “when you told me that assassins were coming for Dad, I ran away and hid in the walls.” Ezran felt ashamed thinking about it now.

  “With a healthy stash of jelly tarts, as I recall,” Callum said.

  Was Callum not taking this decision seriously?

  “Yeah. And when I found out Dad was gone forever, I ran away again,” Ezran said. “I’ve been running away from things my whole life. But I can’t run away from growing up.”

  Callum put an arm around Ezran’s shoulders. “Now that you’re King Ezran, are you going to say wise things like that all the time?”

  Ezran didn’t like the way Callum was joking around with him. This moment was the most serious moment of his life. He stared into his brother’s eyes. “I’m not kidding, Callum. When you grow up, you have to face things you’re not ready for,” he said.

  “Wait, what?” Callum asked.

  “I’m not going with you to Xadia,” Ezran repeated. “I must face my responsibility. Now that I’m king, I’ll return to Katolis. Maybe I can help the world better from the throne than if I went with you. I’ll do whatever I can to stop the war.”

  “But Ezran, returning Zym to his mother is the world’s best hope,” Rayla said.

  “I know that, Rayla,” Ezran said. “And you two will do that. You’ll find his mom, and Zym will take his place in Xadia. Just like I have to take my place in Katolis.”

  “Ezran—” Callum started to say.

  Ezran could tell his brother would try to stop him. “I wish I could go with you, Callum. But I can’t. You and Rayla have to do this without me.”

  “I’ll travel with the king and keep him safe,” Corvus said.

  “Ezran. Are you sure?” Rayla asked.

  “I’ll miss you, Rayla,” Ezran said. “But I’ll see you again, I promise.”

  “And you’re sure you can keep Corvus safe from the banthers, right?” Rayla smiled and ruffled his hair.

  “As soon as Zym is home, I’ll come back to help you,” Callum said. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, big brother,” Ezran said. He hugged Callum. Then he bent down to say goodbye to Zym. “I’m so proud of you, little guy. You’re going to grow up so strong, and good,” he said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you learn to fly, but I know you’ll get it soon.”

  Ezran hugged Zym quickly. Then he picked up Bait and walked away before Zym could see the tears falling from his face. Don’t look back, don’t look back.

  But Ezran couldn’t stand it. He turned around for one last look at his friends and family. Rayla and Callum were waving, but Zym didn’t understand goodbye. He was running after Ezran.

  “I wish you could come with me too, but you need to go be with your mom,” Ezran told the little dragon, patting him on his head. “That’s your home. Both of us need to go home.”

  Zym didn’t understand. He started to whine.

  “Callum? Can you help?” Ezran asked. He didn’t want to cry in front of Zym.

  Callum hurried over and picked up Zym. He held the baby dragon tight, and Ezran turned back around to start the journey to Katolis.

  Ezran sighed. He’d imagined that teaching Zym to fly would be only the first of his adventures with the Dragon Prince. He’d dreamed about growing up with Zym in Xadia, meeting all the magical creatures. But here he was, holding Bait and walking with Corvus. He would never live in Xadia. He would take the throne of his dead father.

  It was nighttime in Katolis. The stars shone brightly amid a smattering of clouds.

  Viren walked onto Harrow’s balcony. He carried a large bundle under his arm and wore a scowl on his face. The caterpillar was wrapped around his ear.

  “You tried to win over the other humans with loyalty and friendship, but they ignored you,” Aaravos whispered into his ear.

  Viren knelt on the balcony and unrolled the heavy bundle. It contained the four unique elven weapons, each of which had belonged to one of the deceased Moonshadow elf assassins. Viren had sharpened the blades immaculately. The shining silver glinted in the moonlight. Next to each weapon, he placed a small circular bowl. Each bowl held the ashes of one of the fallen elves.

  If Viren had any second thoughts, the caterpillar in his ear squelched them.

  “Those who fail tests of love are simple animals,” Aaravos whispered. “They deserve to be motivated by fear.”

  Viren said nothing. Instead, he pulled a blood candle from his robes. With a snap of his fingers, he lit the wick. Then Viren took a pinch of ash from the first container and sprinkled it over the lit candle. The flame turned from gold to purple.

  Viren began to chant: “Nissassa ykoms niaga esir nellaf fo hsa.”

  He gently blew on the flame. As the smoke billowed out, it took the form of one of the deceased Moonshadow assassins. The inky shape picked up her weapon. Viren repeated the spell three more times until the smoky forms of all four assassins stood before him.

  Viren stood back and admired his handiwork.

  “Bring terror to Del Bar!” he yelled. “To Neolandia! To Evenere! And to Duren!”

  One by one, the smoke forms spirited off the balcony into the night. As the spell’s energy dissipated, Viren felt his face transform. Deep-set wrinkles etched themselves into his skin—he could feel the grooves in his forehead. He rubbed his eyes and knew from experience that dark craters of exhaustion surrounded them. Though he ritually erased the effects of dark magic every morning, the frightening features seemed to reclaim his face more cruelly each time he used his dark power.

  For a moment, he thought of his beautiful young daughter. He never wanted her to look this way or to feel this level of exhaustion. She didn’t know what lay ahead of her. He would try to protect her for as long as possible. He pulled his hood up around his face so no one could see him in his present state.

  Viren returned to his study and locked the door behind him.

  “You’re in danger,” Aaravos hissed in his ear, not a minute later.

  The hairs on Viren’s arm stood on end, and his eyes darted back and forth.

  “They’ve come for you,” Aaravos said through the caterpillar. “Do as I tell you. Prepare for battle.”

  Viren grabbed ingredients from his desk drawers, shelves, and cabinets. Then he turned to the door and, with a flourish, expanded his cane into a full staff.

  No sooner did he have the staff in hand than he heard pounding on his chamber door. Guards rattled the golden handle.

  “Lord Viren! Open up, by order of the high council!” a guard shouted.

  “Well?” Aaravos laughed. “Open it for them!”

  Viren waved his hand, and the door exploded outward into the hall. The force of the explosion blasted a cadre of guards to the floor. The surviving guards gathered themselves together and poured into the room, swords drawn. Viren waved his staff to send energy blasts at them. He felt intense energy and power filling him up. He could sense his movements and actions being gently directed. Viren did not feel controlled, but he understood that somehow, invisible strings connected him with the Startouch elf.

  Meanwhile deep beneath the castle, in the mirror, Aaravos appeared energized and transformed, almost floating. Though his actual location was a mystery even to him, there was no denying that in this moment he was in a way present and completely connected to Viren. He mirrored Viren’s movements, creating runes on his side of the mirror, and releasing them and their powerful effects through his counterpart.

  Viren cast spell after spell. He watched with glee as the guards fell. Just as he’d knocked out most of the guards in the room, archers arrived as backup for the soldiers. Viren slammed one into the sheep-girl painting, knocking it ajar, slightly off its hinges.
He rushed over to close the painting door—it was the hidden passage to his secret chambers—but he was interrupted by a shout.

  “Surrender, Viren!” Opeli called out. She must have walked in behind the archers.

  Viren turned to confront his challenger, but the voice in his ear halted him. “Stop,” Aaravos said suddenly. “It’s over.”

  “But I can destroy them all,” Viren said. He was on a rampage. He couldn’t stop now. “I have all the power I need!” After the dark ritual earlier this evening, and this supercharged melee, Viren felt unstoppable. It seemed unnecessary to relinquish his power now.

  “STOP!” Aaravos ordered. Viren saw he was encircled by archers.

  “You’re completely surrounded, Viren,” Opeli said. “Give yourself up—don’t make me give the order. These guards are prepared to take you alive or dead.”

  It didn’t surprise Viren in the least that Opeli was willing to execute him. Viren reluctantly dropped his staff. The guards rushed to apprehend him.

  “You’ve betrayed me,” Viren muttered to Aaravos.

  “No. I will stay with you,” Aaravos said.

  Then the sticky talking Star caterpillar crawled deep into Viren’s ear.

  Was this how it would end for him? Opeli would have him executed for treason if no one stopped her. Who could help him now? He had known from the beginning he couldn’t count on Aaravos.

  “Claudia,” Viren murmured.

  “What’s that, traitor?” Opeli shouted.

  Viren said nothing. If Claudia returned, she would come to his rescue.

  His daughter was his only chance now.

  Callum kept his mouth shut, but it was taking longer to get to the Xadian border than Rayla had predicted. The journey gave him time to worry about Ezran. Would Ezran and Corvus make it back to Katolis? If they did, who would be there to greet them? Viren? That wouldn’t be good.

  Callum shook his head. There was no use worrying about things he couldn’t control.

  He followed Rayla through a narrow canyon. It was so dark he had a hard time believing Rayla could navigate.

 

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