“Ellabell!” Alex cried, trying to crawl toward her.
She turned, pain twisting her face up. “Alex…” she whispered, before going still.
“No, no, no, no,” he muttered, trying to reach her before his body gave out. The trees loomed just ahead, taunting him.
They had been so close to the forest, but Alex realized it didn’t matter. They could have been in the trees, and it wouldn’t have mattered. Julius would have found them eventually. It was true, what Helena had said: Julius would find them, no matter where they went. There was no escape from him. Running was a waste of time and energy—it made sense now. No matter how far or how fast they ran, Julius would always catch up.
Straining to turn around, Alex saw that another sea of yellow fog had been let loose across the remainder of the Starcross warriors, turning them against one another, while Julius and his band of merry men walked calmly away from it, moving at a leisurely pace in the direction of Alex. The king hadn’t even bothered with the rest of Starcross. Alex and his friends were the target… The rest were just collateral.
Julius grinned as he neared, kneeling beside Alex’s frozen figure. “Goodnight, sweet prince,” he whispered, leaning close to Alex’s ear. Alex tried to speak, wanting to scream in the king’s face, when a blow to the head turned everything to darkness.
Chapter 20
Alex stirred, feeling the pulse of a headache pushing like daggers at the backs of his eyes. Blinking slowly awake, the sunlight streaming in much too bright, it took him a while to fully come around. Everything felt strange. The ground beneath him was no longer the hard-packed solidity of earth, but something softer, like he was enveloped in a marshmallow. Tucked under his chin was a warm, thick duvet cover, and beneath his head was the soft give of a luxurious pillow.
Am I still dreaming? he wondered, though much of the sleep he’d endured, when it hadn’t simply been the dark stretching landscape of oblivion, had been plagued by nightmares: giant Kelpies with snapping teeth thundering toward him, Julius’s laughing face looming close to his own, just a floating head in the darkness, his friends’ features twisted in agony.
As the headache subsided, and his vision stopped dancing with black spots, he struggled to sit up. The motion set off a stabbing sensation at the sides of his head, like someone had rammed a red-hot poker behind his eyeballs, but that soon faded too. Gradually, he began to take in the room around him, though it was a million miles from what he’d expected to wake up to, given the events of the previous day.
Had it been a day? he thought to himself, not knowing how long he’d been out. However long he’d slept, the sun was now high in the sky, streaming through wafting cream curtains in a warm haze of golden light. Behind the curtains, he could make out a panel of French doors that stretched across the whole far right side of the room, and beyond that, the carved marble perimeter of a balcony, with rising hills undulating on the horizon.
“Where am I?” he said aloud, not really expecting anyone to answer.
A flood of panic swept through his veins as the events of Starcross came hurtling back to the forefront of his mind; there had been so much devastation, the victory snatched from their hands long before they’d even set foot on the battlefield. That almost seemed like a bad dream—one there was no waking up from. People had died, people had been injured, all so Julius could get his hands on Alex and his friends. How they’d found the fifth haven, Alex didn’t know, though he had his suspicions.
With Agatha loitering around the cave so often, coming and going as she pleased, it only stood to reason that others might do the same. If scouts were watching the strange old hippie, wondering who she was and why she was hidden in the bushes, it wouldn’t have taken long for them to realize the significance of the cave. Following her, they would have found the entrance, and closer inspection would have told them exactly what it was. Alex didn’t blame her in the slightest; she probably had no idea she was being followed, or that the secret had even been discovered.
It was all a chain of events, perfectly linked. Alex could see it now. Julius had been watching the havens, just as Venus had said, but by then he probably already knew about Starcross. Alex had to give him that—the king could certainly bide his time, in pursuit of revenge. He had held back until the right moment to strike. Alex imagined that Julius had waited until he received word that Alex had arrived at a haven to perform the spell, knowing he would go ahead with the second attempt, regardless. With the blood in his clutches, why wouldn’t he? As soon as word came that Alex had gone to Kingstone, that was when Julius knew to land his first blow on the realm of Starcross, leaving it in enough chaos that Alex would be disoriented on his return. It all made perfect sense, in hindsight. Alex gritted his teeth in anger; he had walked right into Julius’s scheme, playing it out just as the king had, no doubt, envisioned. Perhaps, Alex thought, Julius truly did have The Art of War memorized.
His mind turned back to his friends. Ellabell’s face haunted him—the way she had whispered his name before lying still. Glancing around, he knew he was definitely alone in the room, but the walls were so thick he could hear nothing but the rush of wind beyond the French doors. If his friends were in the rooms on either side of him, he had no way of knowing. All he had was a fragile hope that they had been brought here too, or were at least being kept prisoner at Starcross. They had been so close to reaching the trees, where they just might have lost the king and his men. It was almost worse than if they hadn’t stood a chance of escape. Alex tried to picture the last time he’d seen them; they had been writhing on the ground in agony, suffering under one of Julius’s brutal spells, but they hadn’t looked close to death. No, not in the way so many others that day had looked. A tremor of nausea ran through him as he remembered the scarlet explosions and haunting screams.
Knowing Julius, Alex had a feeling the king was keeping his friends safely tucked away, in case he needed some extra leverage, a means by which to force Alex to do what he wanted. In that, at least, there was some relief. They were likely still alive, and that meant they still had a chance.
Slowly, his mind touched upon the sad scene of Storm’s death, but he couldn’t even bring himself to think about her. It was too raw and too upsetting, and he knew he’d have to put his grief for her away in a box in his mind, just for now, until he could grieve for her properly, the way she deserved. He hoped they hadn’t left her body out on the battlefield, for creatures to come and devour. He couldn’t bear the thought of that.
Impulsively, Alex got out of bed and strode up to the huge double doors that dominated the left hand side of the room. Looking down, he realized he was only dressed in his underwear, and wondered, with some alarm, who had undressed him and put him to bed. It made him feel oddly vulnerable, to think someone had tucked him in, like a small child after a long journey. Shaking off his concerns, he twisted a golden handle that was molded into the shape of a mermaid and heaved one side open, peering out.
The hallway outside was impressive, with huge, glittering tapestries lining the walls and an elegant statue twirling upward every couple of feet, the middle of the floor covered in a red velvet runner that stretched away on either side. There were, however, also four heavily armored guards clutching weighty golden spears that Alex guessed were more for decoration than anything practical. Two of them flanked the door, while the other two stood opposite, their eyes glowering in the direction of Alex’s peeking face.
“The king will come for you when he is ready,” one of the guards opposite warned.
“You should return to your chamber,” the guard beside him added, the two making quite the menacing double act. The guards on Alex’s side of the door said nothing, barely acknowledging him. Looking up at them, he decided he liked them better than the other two.
Ducking back into the room, he took in his surroundings more thoroughly. All around him, everything gleamed gold and cream, the furnishings plush and luxurious. A fireplace was carved into the wall opposite the bed,
beside a small seating area, with armchairs so enormous and grand that Alex felt he’d disappear into them if he dared to sit down on one. In the hearth, a fire blazed, making the room almost unbearably hot. On the mantelpiece above, golden statuettes were frozen mid-dance, and a candelabra forged from pure silver stood in the center, no doubt with a price tag that could have paid for a student’s college tuition. Even the duvet and pillow felt expensive, woven from smooth silk, both comfortable and cool on his skin.
Fluffy rugs carpeted the marble tiles of the bedroom’s floor, though there was a somewhat alarming animal skin stretched out in front of the blazing fire. From where Alex was sitting, it looked somewhat like a white tiger, but the stripes were a paler color, and two large fangs, almost like tusks, pierced down from the roof of its mouth, its glass eyes staring vacantly upward. He shuddered, feeling sorry for the poor creature who had lost its life for such a ghoulish decoration. Not only that, he felt a bit of empathy toward it too, knowing he was probably going to end up in a similar state once Julius came for him.
Reminded of the king, Alex couldn’t help pondering why Julius had chosen to put him up in such beautiful surroundings. Once the lights had gone out after Julius struck him in the head, he would have been certain the shivering cold of awaking in a cell would have greeted him, his body curled up on dank stones. A luxurious bedroom to rival any five-star hotel had definitely not been on the agenda.
Curiously, he padded over to the windows, wanting to take a better look at the scenery beyond, hoping to gauge where on earth he was. Drawing back the curtains, he was surprised to see that the French doors were open, leaving him free to wander out onto the balcony. As he stepped out, he realized why they hadn’t bothered with this security measure. Peering out over the edge of the balcony’s balustrade, he saw tumbling waterfalls beneath, plummeting all the way down into a valley that looked no bigger than a ribbon from this height, snaking away through lush green countryside. Even if he wanted to escape, there was no way out, the slippery marble walls on either side no good for climbing. The next balcony above was a long way up, with no feasible way to reach it.
Alex smiled wryly; it was a cell after all, just painted up to look pretty. Still, he had to admit he was glad it wasn’t somewhere grim and dingy, where the cold penetrated through to his very bones, and the scent of fear and excrement was ripe in the air.
Gazing out at the stunning landscape, the grassy fields rolling away like green velvet to meet the softly swelling hills in the distance, Alex ruminated upon whether this was another haven, or something completely different. Holding out his hand, he let his anti-magic spiral upward, testing the boundaries to see if any magical restraints lay within. A moment later, snowflakes began to flurry around him, letting him know there was a magical barrier above, protecting the building and preventing escape.
Leaning back against the balustrade as far as he dared, Alex looked up, noticing the glint of a golden spire rising at the top of whichever wing he had been placed in. Everything was beautiful here; each carving, each statue, each tile, so lovingly, and expensively, integrated.
This must be the royal palace, Alex reasoned. Why else would it be so elegant, with no expense spared?
Upon turning back into the room, something caught his eye. Sitting on top of a small dining table, set up in the far corner of the room, was Alex’s satchel. He hadn’t been able to see it before, from his angle in the bed, and he simply hadn’t noticed it as he’d walked past to reach the balcony. Now, however, he saw that it was sitting there, beckoning to him like a beacon.
Alex’s brow furrowed in bemusement as he lifted the flap and pulled out the mostly used vial and the large spell book. Folding the pages out flat on the table, Alex conjured a thin veil of anti-magic, and watched in despair as the glyphs morphed into words, the text now all but faded away. True, the words appeared before the spell-caster, but they were likely to be dimmer too, on the third and final try, and there could be no way of studying the pages beforehand, not anymore.
“Might as well use it to wipe your backside, for all the good it’s done you. Heck, it’s more nuanced than I am!” a voice said suddenly, close to Alex’s ear, making him jump.
Alex whirled around. “Elias! You can’t creep up on people like that!”
Elias grinned, his teeth flashing. “It’s the only way to approach people!” he cackled. “I love a good scare, don’t you? Mind you, nothing is as scary as the mess you’ve got yourself into. That is frankly terrifying. I hear attempt number two didn’t exactly go according to plan?”
“No thanks to you. You’ll be pleased to know you missed out on all the heavy lifting, seeing as you’ve been gone so long,” Alex remarked sourly. “Don’t suppose you have a helpful way out of it? I mean, that’s why you’ve been gone all this time, isn’t it, to see what you can find out about the spell?” he added, remembering Siren Mave’s less than complimentary words about where Elias actually was.
Elias tapped his shadowy fingers against the spot where a chin ought to be. “I’m afraid you’ve gone WAY past that. I said this to that awful, toady woman—I said, ‘He can’t be left to his own devices or he’ll blow everything sky-high,’ and she had the cheek to tell me I was being ‘overly cautious.’ Well, I guess you showed her,” he taunted.
“I’m going to take that as a no, then?” said Alex, rolling his eyes. “Where have you been, if you don’t have anything useful to tell me? Or not tell me, as seems to be the way with you irritating guardians.”
“Hey, you know me. I’ll always help out where I can,” the shadow-man replied, suddenly serious. “I have been investigating, like I told you, no matter what that vile toad has said, but the rules remain the same—you have to ask me the right questions,” he added, giving a dramatic wink that looked bizarre on his ever-shifting face.
Alex frowned. “I just don’t know where I keep going wrong,” he explained. “I got the blood wrong, but I fixed it, thanks to you. The second try should have worked—everything was in place.”
Elias shook his head from side to side, little strands of shadow taking their time to catch up. “Incorrect!” he cried, making an obnoxious buzzer sound that sent irritated shivers up Alex’s spine.
“So what did I get wrong?” Alex pressed.
Elias tutted. “Questions, questions, must ask the questions.”
“Does it have something to do with what Siren Mave said?” Alex asked, as a sudden flash of something popped into his mind, sweeping him along on the current of an idea. In the image in his mind, there were three figures standing in a pit room, though their faces weren’t clear. “Does someone else need to be in the room, to watch the spell take place? Is that what she meant by it being ‘properly witnessed’?”
Elias clapped his vaporous hands together. “By Jove, I think he’s getting the hang of this question game. Now, for one million dollars, what’s the young man going to say next? Who might that third figure be?” He paused, a tremor of light running through his body, shattering his floating limbs with silvery veins. The shadow-man looked at Alex, panic evident on his face. “That’s the trouble with bizarre loopholes—nobody knows if I’ve stepped over a line,” he whispered, his voice thick with pain. “I think I may be in trouble… See if I can get out of this one…” He trailed off, his body disappearing in a burst of white-hot light that made Alex cover his eyes with his forearm.
Alex was left staring at the spot where the shadow-man had been, blinking away the glare of his departure, wondering if that was it—Elias’s last chance. Just then, there was a knock at the door, distracting him from what might have happened to the shadow-man.
Siren Mave entered, her bright lipstick freshly applied, her cheeks even pinker than usual.
“You?” Alex gasped.
She peered at him over the horned rims of her glasses. “Yes, me. Does that present an immediate problem?” she remarked.
“You work for the king?” he asked, incredulous. “What, does that mean you’ve been
on his side this whole time?”
She sighed impatiently. “I am on nobody’s side, as you well know. I have always been a royal advisor and servant, which you also know, across all the havens,” she explained. “And while this may not be a haven, this is the royal palace, a place in which my duties, sadly, extend to those of a chambermaid. It isn’t glamorous, but there it is. Satisfied?”
Alex frowned uncertainly. Scrutinizing her closely, he began to wonder if it was possible that she was able to exist in multiple places at once. Either that, or she was extremely good at keeping tabs on him. He supposed she was supposed to be his guardian, after all, so perhaps she was simply following him around, using royal appointments as an excuse to watch over him.
“So, you’re not working for the king?” he pressed, utterly confused.
“I am and I am not,” she remarked. “But, since we’re on the subject, the king wishes to see you now. Please dress appropriately from the wardrobe I have selected for you—I’ve made some exceptional choices, and I’d hate to see them go down the drain. Your own clothes have been taken and destroyed because, frankly, I’m surprised they didn’t walk off of their own accord. He expects you in twenty minutes. I shall await you outside.”
With that, she was gone, leaving Alex to fear how the king would receive him.
Chapter 21
After rummaging through the antique wardrobe tucked away close to the bed, Alex picked out what he thought might make him look presentable. There wasn’t much to choose from, but he settled on a pair of navy trousers, a white shirt, and some dark shoes. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he knew he could do with a good shower, but twenty minutes didn’t exactly give him long enough to prepare. Besides, he didn’t care what Julius thought of him. After the massacre at Starcross, he wanted to make the king feel pain, and being forced to dress to the nines for him as an “honored guest” made Alex feel a fresh wave of fury.
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