“Maybe you should retire early,” Tyriad whispered with a fake grin. “No one will blame you. You have worked long and hard on this event.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Asphodul said, looking down at her plate. “I believe you may be right. A bit of rest might do me good.”
“I’ll call for the doctor,” Tyriad replied.
“No need,” Asphodul said quickly. “I will visit him in the morning. His cottage is across the gorge, and a good horse ride might do good to clear my head.”
“See to it that you do,” Tyriad nodded, watching as Asphodul excused herself, leaving through the back corridor.
As soon as she was out of sight, Asphodul took off down the halls, making sure to check before she spun around another corner. When she reached her chambers, she grabbed a bag and began packing important books and trinkets into it. She turned and pulled her dark black cloak over her shoulders, pulling the napkin of food from her pocket she had stolen from her plate without Tyriad noticing. She scarfed down the pork and berries, realizing she had not eaten in two days’ time. Once done, she threw her bag over her shoulder and crept from the chambers and around the corner to the tower. She looked up, wondering if there was anything she should take from her room, but decided that the less she carried, the better. Before leaving, she visited the vault room where the coin was kept. She grabbed a large satchel and tied it to the belt around her waist before pulling up her hood and creeping back out into the shadows.
With so much going on around the castle, no one noticed Asphodul move up the snow-covered hill and over to the Wild. She explained her course to the dragons, and they agreed to escort her wherever she wished to go. She climbed upon the back of the beast, realizing it had been many marks since she had ridden a dragon, and held on tightly as the Wild took flight. As it flapped its wings, pulling her from her castle and everything she knew, she looked back at the shimmering lights of the Frost Celebration. Though she yearned for things to return to normal, she knew they couldn’t until she found answers.
Unfortunately, those answers lie in an unlikely place, and Asphodul knew she must find her sister.
Chapter Fifteen: The Echoes of the Crypt
Pike grunted as he pulled his body up the jagged rocks of the small mountain range that sat between Lisborn and Pero Peaks. With the snow and ice falling on the lowlands, the mountains had already become a winter paradise. While Pike’s fur cloak kept him exactly the right temperature, he still wasn’t used to using his body in such a way. He remembered as he shifted and moved up the mountain’s slick sides that he had not been a human for that long, if that was even what you would call him. He looked up at Holland who was already several yards ahead of him. He didn’t want to fly since the winds and fog were so thick, but his body was strong, and he used his dragon strength to bounce and jump from stone to rock with ease.
“Come on, fish man,” Holland yelled down, laughing. “Use that tail of yours.”
“Yeah, right,” Pike wheezed. “This climbing is for the birds.”
“Actually,” Holland said as he jumped back down and stood next to Pike, “jumping is more for kangaroos, some squirrels, those pesky little pixies that get caught in your hair when you're flying through the Vale forest – you know, the normal.”
“You are not helping,” Pike laughed, staring over at Holland.
“Here, let me lend a hand,” Holland said, grabbing Pike under the arms and jumping upward with immense strength. They landed just feet from the top, and Holland let go of Pike, watching him adjust his cloak and nod at him looking impressed.
“Why couldn’t you have done that an hour ago?”
“It was fun watching you struggle,” Holland said with a wink and pat on the shoulder.
Pike and Holland pulled themselves up the flat landing, looking out over the scenery. Beyond the mountains of Lisborn were rolling hills and fields, lightly dusted in snow and glimmering in the sunlight. Off in the distance, just over the horizon, sat Pero Peaks with its steep, jagged ridges and ominous red glow. Smoke billowed from the top of the volcano, and you could see the rivers of lava flowing at its base. High into the sky, the symbol of the Dead Kingdom swirled in circles in the lambency of dark magic. Holland pulled his cloak around him, chills pushing up his spine. He wasn’t cold to the touch, but just seeing the Dead King’s mark darkened the soul.
Pike set his bag down and pulled a large parchment from inside, sketching the scene with a piece of black coal chalk. He worked quickly, not wanting to be within the view of the Dead King for too long. They knew he was able to track people, but they didn’t know just how far that ability went. Line by line, Pike set the picture to paper, making sure he got every nook and cranny that his eyes could see. He wished they could get closer, but this would have to do.
Holland opened his senses and listened intently to the world around them, watching for any sign of danger. Everything seemed calm and collected, but he still couldn’t help but hope that Pike worked fast. As the wind blew from behind them, Holland perked his ears, hearing a whisper of a Wild in the wind. He couldn’t make out what it was saying, but he knew with the amount of clarity it lacked, they must be far off. It was strange to hear a wild outside of the walls of the Vale, but Holland assumed that the queen had started to send out searchers in order to locate Leonetta and Ardontis.
When Pike was complete, he carefully rolled the parchment back up, securing it with a red ribbon. He pushed the chalk and paper back into his bag and stood, wiping the dust on his pants. Pike looked over at Holland and then back at the horizon as a fog began to roll through the hills. It did not look natural by any means, and Holland grabbed Pike by the arm and nodded, showing that it was time to go. The two men carefully but quickly moved their way down the sides of Lisborn Peaks, sliding and shifting their way down. Pike peeked around a crevice in the rocks and noticed that the fog had reached the base of the mountain, but seemed to sit, unwavering as if it had hit an invisible wall.
Holland reached up and grabbed Pike, jumping from a cliff, transforming in midair and flying off away from the peaks. Pike breathed heavily, clutching onto Holland’s back as his heart beat wildly in his chest. When they were away from the mountain and out of harm’s reach, Pike chuckled, patting the dragon’s side and talking to Holland telepathically.
“You should warn a fellow before you throw him off a cliff,” Pike chuckled.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
Pike looked back as they made their way back to town, watching as the deep, thick fog slowly receded. It was almost as if the fog wasn’t fog at all, but instead some sort of spell or enchantment sent out toward them from the volcanoes. Pike shook his head, not realizing how big of a task this all was until he saw Pero Peaks and the Dead King’s symbol with his own eyes. He was not deterred in the least but definitely wearier of the task at hand. He had faced Ghede three times now, and two out of three times, someone was killed or severely injured. On top of that, when moving into the king’s lair, Pike knew he would be facing creatures he had only encountered in his darkest dreams.
As Holland began his descent into the fields outside of the gates of Lisborn, Pike looked down at Leonetta and Helena standing in the field. They had been practicing magic while Ardontis ran errands and awaited the men’s return. Leonetta put her arm up, blocking the sun’s reflection and watching as Holland circled down and landed, blowing dirt and frost into the air, creating a rainbow around them.
Leonetta walked toward them as Pike dismounted and waited for Holland to change. As she approached, Holland stood silent, smiling over at Helena who played with a glowing white orb. Pike opened his mouth to speak, but Leonetta put up her hand, smiling kindly. She stepped forward and closed her eyes, pressing her finger against Pike’s temple. Her eyeballs moved rapidly under her lids, and Pike could feel Leonetta’s intrusion in his mind. When she was finished, she took a deep breath, opening her eyes and allowing the color to wash back over her face. She looked a
t Pike intently, obviously thinking about the fog. Pike nodded and pulled the parchment out, handing it to the princess. She nodded and looked to Holland.
“Will you entertain Helena for a bit? I must talk with Pike,” she said softly.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Holland said, bowing and walking off toward the girl.
“We will retreat to the room where I have put up protection from prying ears and eyes,” she said softly, walking forward toward the gates. “We will need a bit of time to get Helena trained up to a comfortable level, though I don’t believe that will take much time.”
“Why not leave the girl here?” Pike said angrily. “We have wasted so much time already.”
“Trust me, friend,” Leonetta replied, laying her hand on Pike’s arm, “I have only the best intentions in mind for this realm.”
Pike nodded, looking back at the girl, feeling that surge of protective nature wash over him once again. He knew no matter how much he wanted to get going, he would not be able to leave the girl behind. It was almost as if they were connected by some invisible force, a force too strong for even Leonetta to break.
***
Ardontis moved quietly through the streets with the piece of parchment he had secretly received early that day clutched tightly in his hand. He rounded the corner to the Gardens of the Gods and breathed the scent of flowers deep into his chest. This was one of the places of holy footsteps for those that followed the gods. It was a garden placed in the middle of nowhere that bloomed all year, regardless of the weather or season. It was picked as the birthplace of Lisborn by the elders for its historical relevance and powers of healing deep within the wells. Ardontis had not realized he was so close to it until he received the letter.
Slowly, he moved across the gardens looking out over praying heads, and through the entryway into the crypts below. He took a torch from the wall as he descended the spiraling staircase, reminiscent of his chambers beneath the Avalon castle. He looked down at the paper that read only the numbers 4-5-3, matching it to a small private crypt at the end of the hall. Seeing the light coming from underneath the large stone door, Ardontis placed his torch on the wall before pulling his robes closed and entering.
He pulled the heavy door closed behind him and smiled kindly at Coventina who was standing next to a large statue of the first human king of the west realms. She smiled back and bowed her head, her face going back to expressionless as she raised it straight. She walked forward and handed Ardontis a bag containing filled glass bottles. There were at least twenty of them.
“Interesting choice for a meeting,” Ardontis said, pulling the strap of the heavy bag over his shoulder. “You have done well, and so quick.”
“I don’t have much else holding me back at the moment,” Coventina replied. “When may I join you?”
“We are finishing the training of the girl,” Ardontis said, looking around the dank tomb. “When it is complete and we are ready to move forward toward the volcanoes, I will summon you. It will be at that point that you will walk side-by-side with us into the Dead King’s lair. Until then, I hope you are finding your accommodations more suitable than this crypt.”
“They are lovely,” she chuckled. “Does Leonetta yet know of our agreement?”
“She does not,” Ardontis said, taking a deep breath. “I sometimes find that even when someone thinks they want all the answers, inside, they only want the ones they are comfortable with.”
“She has not yet shown her want for the throne,” Coventina said, shaking her head. “What if she tells you she does not want it?”
“Then we will have to come up with yet another solution, won’t we?”
“I suppose,” she said cautiously. “You do have faith in Leonetta as your queen, don’t you?”
“More faith then I have placed with any other breathing being in my life,” Ardontis pledged. “But we are all free to do as we please, and there are some decisions I cannot yet make for our young queen, her sister being one of them. She is moving along well though on that front as she has cast herself from the house of the Vale, venturing out toward victory on her own.”
“It is rumored that the queen of the Vale has fallen ill, and some are calling her the mad queen,” Coventina said, laughing. “However, we know it is the dark mark that has caused her strife.”
“That it is,” Ardontis said, patting his bag. “And whether Leonetta chooses to use some of this to fix that or not is completely up to her. I will not interfere.”
“You know,” Coventina said, stepping forward from the shadows, “sometimes, as a man of the gods, it may be necessary for you to make those choices for her, for her own good at least.”
“I am far ahead of you, dear Coventina,” Ardontis said, looking over at the door. “And as we weave our web for the future, the lies begin to pile.”
“As all great rulers and futures often encounter,” Coventina said, smiling, the two Faith’s laughter echoing through the chambers of the crypt.
Chapter Sixteen: The Prophecy Understood
It had been two moons’ cycles since Leonetta and Pike discussed their path to Pero Peaks. They were deep into the realm’s unforgiving winter as it purged the ground of the old and laid wait for the spring’s fertility. Pike shoved his belongings down into his bag and looked out at Helena who was standing out in the field, looking toward the peaks of Lisborn. Her fae rapid maturing ritual was complete, and she no longer looked like the scared little girl from the marble halls of the Vale castle. Instead, standing knee deep in the snow, Helena’s long, dark hair framed her matured face and allowed her ice-blue eyes to radiate above her cheeks. Her face had structure, and the chubby cheeks had faded away. Pike had a hard time looking at her without seeing pure beauty.
Leonetta stopped next to Pike, looking out at Helena and smiling. She waved her hand over her body and watched as her light gown morphed into heavy fabrics cut short to reveal leather pants and fur-lined boots laced up to her knees. Helena and herself looked strikingly similar with their outfits being almost identical in every way except color. While Leonetta kept her personal style of light colors and bold prints on the lining, Helena stood in black, a sword sheathed at her side, and determination brimming on her ruby red lips.
“Are we ready?” Leonetta asked, looking back as Ardontis and Coventina climbed atop Holland’s dragon.
“I’ve been ready for far too long,” Pike’s deep voice replied. “Explain to me why Coventina is joining us.”
“She found us the fountain of repair and filled our bottles to march into battle,” Leonetta explained. “She had to have faced grave peril, for those fountains are guarded by soldiers enchanted by, what they believe to be, white magic, or the gods’ magic. She won’t talk about what she faced, but I can see the veil of death and torture in her weary eyes.”
“And why is she coming along?”
“All in good time,” Leonetta said, patting Pike’s arm and running forward to join Helena as they moved out.
For many days, the six homeless soldiers marched forth, placing their faith in the weather that it wouldn’t be too harsh to move in. Nights were cold, and Helena could be found sleeping wrapped up in the Great Wolf’s pelt alongside Pike. He didn’t sleep much, as he feared what the night brought forward. Leonetta created a shield of protection over them, keeping Ghede’s watchful eye at bay as they traveled. Ardontis and Coventina were resourceful as always and found ways to catch the small woodland creatures to cook for dinners. They made a good team, and Leonetta would look up smiling as Holland freely flew above them, thankful for his presence through the storm.
As they grew closer to the base of Pero Peaks, the heat melted the snow, leaving nothing but hardened lava and crumbling stones at their feet. They found shelter along the ridge just to the right of the volcano where they would enter at first light. Leonetta strengthened her shields, feeling Ghede’s great power just feet away, beneath the jutting rocks and bubbling fire rivers. Helena sat qui
etly as she did most of the time, a stern look on her face as she whittled a small piece of wood she had been carrying for days. The only person she really talked to was Leonetta, but on a night like tonight, silence had fallen over everyone.
Leonetta sat, her back pressed against a large boulder, nibbling at the apple she had plucked from a tree along the way. The heat was enough that it almost cooked the fruit right in her hand, and she tossed it over into the lava pits. As she sat watching the others prepare mentally for the next morning, she paused, sensing something in the distance. Slowly, she stood, peering over the large boulder, motioning for Ardontis to come forward. The two stood watching as fae soldiers marched forward, stopping in ranks at the edge of the pits, looking forward toward the ominous scene ahead. Leonetta sat back down quickly, feeling a rush of panic.
“Why are they here?”
“Calm, Your Grace,” Ardontis whispered. “They have written their own story, sadly in blood.”
“I cannot sit here and watch them be destroyed,” Leonetta snapped.
“You must,” Ardontis said with a raised voice, stopping Leonetta in her tracks. She had never heard him speak above a whisper. “If you walk to their aid, you will die the same fiery death that they will. Are you willing to give this all up for a kingdom that turned their backs on you?”
“Not the kingdom,” Leonetta replied. “Asphodul, just Asphodul.”
“Are you sure of that?”
Ardontis nodded at Coventina who reached down and took a large glass ball from her bag and handed it to Leonetta. Leonetta rolled the ball in her hands, looking down as images appeared through the glass. She watched Coventina take a small vial filled with clear liquid from her satchel and drop several droplets on the winding glass.
“The Mystic’s Ball,” Leonetta said in wonder. “Where did you find this? It has been lost for centuries.”
War of the Realms Box Set Page 48