The next morning, I stood in the field near the light-rails accompanied by a small group of Kull’s most trusted warriors. Rolf and Brodnik waited with us, as did Rolf’s new bride. Heidel and Maveryck’s dog Grace also stood with us near the rails.
I’d hardly slept last night. When I had, I’d had nightmares—the same one over and over—of Theht using me to destroy the world. There were different variations, but they all ended with Kull dead.
This is your future. To be alone. To be loved by no one, for that is our way.
Theht’s voice was getting stronger the more time I spent in Faythander. I tried shrugging away the fear as the sun rose over the Wult mountains. I fidgeted with the ring I wore on my finger—my engagement ring—a silver band with three jewels in shades of lavender, blue, and pink. Kull had gotten the stones from a magical plant that grew in the wild lands. As I twisted the ring around my finger, I felt its gentle magic calming me.
Kull squeezed my shoulder, and I turned toward him.
“You’re unusually quiet this morning,” he said.
“Yeah, I guess so. I’m nervous about this quest.”
“We all are. Traveling through Faythander is one thing, but crossing into another world entirely, a place no one knows anything about, is not something we can prepare for. Plus, we’ve got a wedding to plan on top of everything else.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Heidel spoke up. “Mother agreed to plan it for you. I assume you’ll want to invite the entire kingdom? Minus the Northland tribe, of course. Seeing as how we wouldn’t want old exes showing up—Mother’s words. Also, Kull will be singing. Mother knows how much Kull likes to perform his vocal skills in front of the kingdom. Oh—and she’ll make sure you both have a full entourage of servants following you at all times. Wouldn’t want to spoil the wedding night.” She winked.
I groaned inwardly. I’d always pictured having a small wedding with a few close friends and family members. Well, probably not friends. I didn’t have many of those. And probably not family, as I wasn’t close to them either. Mainly, I just wanted to invite Fan’twar. Other than him, there wasn’t anyone else I cared to have at my wedding. But having someone else plan my wedding, with hundreds of guests and servants trailing me, sounded akin to torture.
“I hope you like petticoats, Olive, because Mother is planning to have you wear three sets of them.”
“She’s planning my dress, too?”
“Of course. It’s her hobby. She loves planning weddings. You should be grateful she does, or else she wouldn’t have let this wedding happen.”
I glanced up at Kull. “She’s teasing, right?”
“I’m being truthful,” Heidel answered. “Mother came to me last night after the feast and told me of her plans. She informed me that because Olive doesn’t know of our ways, she’s taking charge of the wedding.”
“She can’t do that,” Kull said.
“Actually, she can.”
“But it’s our wedding,” I said. “Not hers.”
“Do you think she cares?”
Kull clenched his jaw. “She wouldn’t have done this if Father were here.”
“No, but since he’s gone, she feels she’s got to do everything herself. Including planning your wedding.”
“It won’t happen. She will never get me to sing, of all things. I’ll speak to her.”
“When?” Heidel asked. “By the time you return from this quest, she’ll have the invitations sent and everything planned. You might as well go along with it. You know you’ll never talk her out of it.”
Kull sighed and clenched my hand. Wind tousled his hair as he stared out over the mountains. In a perfect world, maybe we could have had the wedding we wanted. But I supposed nothing was ever perfect, not even our relationship, and it hurt more than I cared to admit that I would most likely never have the life I wanted with him—not while he was king and I had a life on Earth.
But there was no point in worrying about stupid things like that, not when we were going on a quest to retrieve a lost sword that had the ability to kill a goddess, and not when going on said quest meant we had to enter a world so dangerous no one returned, and could most likely end in our deaths. Maybe I should be grateful for the wedding drama. At least it kept me from thinking of other things.
In the distance, the carriage appeared as a speck of golden light speeding toward us. Rolf’s new wife, Brynhild, hugged her husband tightly and pressed her tear-soaked face to his chest. I’d never been terribly fond of Rolf—the kid had always had more testosterone than was good for him, and he had a bad habit of sticking his foot in his mouth at the worst possible moments. Still, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for his bride. They’d gotten married only a few short months ago, and now her husband was leaving on a quest that he might never return from.
Rolf stroked her long hair as he held her close, whispering quietly to her. She nodded, managed a smile, then backed away as the carriage arrived.
“Promise you’ll come back to me,” she said.
“I give you my oath.” He attempted to flash his broad, boyish grin. Instead, he only achieved a half-smile. “I love you, Bryn.”
Her eyes clouded with tears as she nodded. “I love you, too,” she managed.
The carriage stopped and the doors slid open.
We entered the light coach. Rolf entered last, leaving Brynhild behind. The doors slid shut and clicked, locking us in, then we sped south toward Dragon Spine’s peak.
The Wults made quiet conversation as we passed through open countryside. I kept to myself, thinking of how I was beginning to hate these quests, wondering if I’d ever be able to settle down and have a normal life, maybe even raise a family. But that future seemed so distant and impossible. I wasn’t sure it would ever happen.
The journey passed uneventfully as the day waned. We stopped only once to stretch our legs and get a bite to eat before continuing onward once again. When evening approached, we finally arrived at the Wult outpost. Rather than staying at the inn, we decided to make it up to Silvestra’s castle.
By now, I shouldn’t have been so terrified of the witch, except that she’d captured Kull and me not long ago, tortured him, and gave me an impossible riddle to open a box that would save him. I’d never solved the lotus cube’s mystery, so she’d retaliated and taken my stepfather prisoner.
That was all old news now. We’d freed my stepfather and brought her what she’d wanted all along—which happened to be her only offspring.
As we climbed the mountain up to her castle, Kull took my hand. He smiled at me, but I saw the pain in his eyes. I knew he wasn’t happy about seeing Silvestra again.
“Will you be okay up there?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Silvestra’s castle is a place I’d never wanted to go again, but I don’t get to be picky when the fate of the world is on the line, do I?”
“I guess not. This is a typical thing in our lives, you know, putting up with crap so we can save everyone else. You think we’ll ever refuse to do this stuff?”
“No,” Heidel interjected. “You’re both too honorable to refuse these quests, and too proud to let someone else do it.”
“You’re on this mission with us, too, Sister. Remember that.”
She sniffed, and then patted Grace’s head. The wolf trotted along at Heidel’s side the same way she’d followed Maveryck. With Maveryck’s death, the two must have become inseparable.
Rolf and Brodnik walked ahead of us, but stopped as they reached a bridge spanning from one side of the mountain, over a deep gorge, and to the opposite side.
Silvestra stood before us, guarding the bridge.
I panicked for half a second as my eyes met hers. Her magic made my senses tingle. She stood tall, the wind making her silver gown flutter, the waning sunlight turning her skin a deep bronzed brown, almost the shade of teakwood. Silver scales covered her arms and hands. Her fingers ended in long, black claws rather than fingernails. Her bald head was also covered in the same sleek scales, forming a dramatic widow’s peak.
Since we’d returned her stolen offspring to her, the witch had changed. Her magic wasn’t less powerful, but at least she was easier to deal with—and the crazy was missing—which was a very good thing.
“I’ve been expecting you,” she said. Without saying anything else, she turned on her heel and allowed us to cross the narrow footbridge.
What? No bargains? No threats of enslavement? The last time we’d come to this bridge, Kull had to trade the sword of his ancestors just to get across.
The new Silvestra was growing on me.
After crossing the bridge, we followed the witch through a forested path and up a steep slope. As night descended over the world, we approached a shimmering dome.
With a word of whispered magic from the witch, an opening formed in the dome, just large enough for a person to fit through, and we followed her inside.
She sealed the gap closed behind us, and we stood staring overhead at an enormous castle.
I’d never seen the castle from this angle before. Torches lined the steps leading up to the main gates. Moonlight spilled over the towers—some of them covered in moss, as if they were part of the mountain—and others soared into the sky.
Silvestra turned to our group. “Follow me inside. We’ve much to discuss before sunrise. Olive,” she said, turning her gaze on me, “your stepfather awaits.”
“My stepfather?” I asked, confused. “Why is he still here?”
“You shall see. Follow me.” She turned and climbed the steps leading to the front gates. We followed without speaking, our booted footfalls echoing, mingling with the howl of the wind.
The tall stone doors swung open as Silvestra approached, and we entered her keep. I shuddered as the doors boomed closed behind us. I hated this castle. I’d sworn never to come here again, yet returning to places I despised was becoming a routine thing in my life.
We stood in a broad foyer lined in columns. The floor shimmered beneath our feet, and I felt a spell in the stones. Silvestra led us through the foyer and up a staircase. After we crossed through a hallway, we stood in front of a large set of double doors. They opened with a whoosh, revealing a ballroom.
When I’d first seen this chamber a few months ago, its sheer size and infusion of magic in the floor and in the stones surrounding the room had taken my breath away. This time was no different. The floor’s mosaic was arranged to look like the solar system, with the sun in the center and jewel-toned planets circling the central orb.
Overhead, the domed ceiling was partially open to the nighttime sky. As we crossed the floor, I stopped, staring at my stepfather. He lay on a platform across from us.
His eyes were closed and his golden scales had grown dull. Patches of skin peeled from his flank.
“Silvestra, what happened to him?” I asked.
“It’s his magic,” she said. “For whatever reason, it isn’t allowing him to heal. For a time, it seemed he was recovering, but then his magic weakened and he grew sick once again. I have tried to heal him and failed. Whatever is causing this malady is something I am not familiar with.”
I quietly approached my stepfather. Seeing him sick or injured was becoming all too commonplace lately. But why was he sick now? What could be causing his magic to weaken?
I crouched beside him and ran my hand over his neck.
“Young one,” he said quietly.
“Hello, Fan’twar.”
“I’m glad you’ve come.”
“Me too. You’re looking great!”
He snorted. “You were never a talented liar, young one.”
“I know. You should have taught me better.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips.
“Are you okay here?” I asked.
“I am well enough. The spirit of a dragon is a hard thing to confine.”
“That’s very true.” I stroked his nose. “But what’s going on? The last time I saw you, you were recovering in this same spot, and that was four months ago.”
A growl rumbled in his chest. “It’s the magic,” he answered. “Theht’s powers are in the asteroid, and as the asteroid grows closer to our world, they hinder my own. It’s keeping my magic from healing me.”
“You’re sure it’s the asteroid doing this to you?”
“Yes. And the closer it draws near to our world, the more it will wreak havoc on everything that encounters magic.”
“But how? It’s just a space rock.”
“It is more than that. Faythander can sense its own destruction. Our planet can feel the danger, just as I can. Our world senses the magic in the asteroid. It knows its time will soon come to an end. Just as I do.”
My heart sank. “But if that’s so, then why I am even trying to save it? You told me there was still hope. Were you wrong?”
“No,” he moaned. “I was not wrong. There is still hope. There always is. But if the flow of time continues down the path it is on, then Faythander will be destroyed.”
A shiver ran down my spine. This wasn’t good. Actually, this was just about the worst news I could’ve gotten. But I had to stay strong. I couldn’t lose hope. Not yet.
“Find Lucretian,” Fan’twar said. “The druid who spoke the Deathbringer prophecy is the only person who knows how to change the course of time. He has…the sword…” Fan’twar’s breathing grew labored. It took a moment to find his voice. “…has the sword of Dracon. Use it…to destroy Theht.”
“But how?” An image flashed through my mind—a vision of Kull stabbing me through the heart with the sword to kill the goddess inhabiting my body. But there had to be another way.
“Find Lucretian,” was Fan’twar’s answer. His eyes closed. I glanced up at Silvestra. She stared down on me with those icy eyes.
“You must find the druid,” she said.
Yeah, got it. Find the druid. Didn’t need to tell me twice. I stood and walked with Silvestra to the opposite end of the room where my friends were gathered.
“We need to find the druid,” I called to them.
“We already knew that,” Heidel answered.
“Yeah, well, now we really need to find him or else Faythander won’t survive.”
“Faythander’s survival is always in danger. What else is new?”
And people say I have a smart mouth. Sheesh.
“We need to find the druid or else my stepfather will never heal from his injuries and most likely die. Also, Theht will destroy our world with an asteroid. Ninety percent of not only our planet, but also of Earth, will die. Is that good enough motivation to find him?”
She shrugged. “I suppose.”
“Sister,” Kull said, “you are incorrigible sometimes.”
“I learn from the best, Brother.”
“Well,” Brodnik said. “When do we leave? I’d like to get this over with.”
“We all would,” I answered, glancing back at the witch.
“You must enter the portal leading to the Shadow Realm as soon as the sun rises,” Silvestra said. “Only the energy of the first light of day at the spring equinox can negate the dark energy that exists there.”
“How long will it take to travel to the portal?” Rolf asked.
“It is on the other side of the mountain’s peak. We should leave soon if we wish to arrive before morning, but I must beg you to reconsider this quest.”
“Why?” I asked.
She stood straight, seeming taller and more menacing as she scanned each of us. “Because this place you travel is not one I’ve ever allowed any mortal to enter before, and there is good reason for it. When I became the portal’s protector, I swore an oath to keep it safe. I only allow you there now because these are the direst of circumstances. But know this—the world you cross into is not like our own. It is inhabited by creatures who feed off life energy, who will do whatever it takes to survive. They cannot be killed with our weapons, for life does not exist there as it does here. The creatures there have no morals, no conscience. They will kill and take your life’s energy without a second thought.”
“Can’t be killed?” Brodnik said. “Then why are we bothering to bring our weapons?”
The witch narrowed her eyes. “There is one weapon that has the ability to stop them.”
Silvestra reached out, palm facing up, and whispered a word of magic. Greenish mist gathered around her hand. When the fog disappeared, she held a staff with a blue jewel atop it and runes etched into the dark wood.
The staff of Zaladin.
“Hold on a moment,” I said. “Is that—?”
“The staff of Zaladin? Yes.”
“But how did you get it? The elves had it last, didn’t they?”
“Yes,” Silvestra answered. “However, I was able to obtain it once again.”
“How?” Kull asked.
“A bargain was struck.”
“What sort of bargain?” I never liked when the witch mentioned bargains.
She smiled, but gave no answer. “Use this staff to find your way.” She held the staff toward me. As she did, Grace trotted forward, sniffed the staff, and let out a long, pitiful whine.
Heidel walked forward and patted Grace’s head. As Heidel focused on the staff, a haunted look crossed her face. Zaladin’s staff must have brought up memories. She’d been caught in a portal with Maveryck and traveled to Earth with him in order to retrieve it. There were memories attached to this object—fresh, painful ones that had yet to heal.
Heidel backed away. “Grace, come away from it,” she said.
The wolf lingered, looked at the staff, and whined once again.
“Grace,” Heidel repeated. “Come away.”
Grace sniffed, then paced back to Heidel’s side.
I took the staff from the witch. As I touched the wood, its magic made my heart skip a beat. The power was ancient, brittle, yet powerful. Theht’s presence also reacted to the magic. She stirred inside me, calling to the magic. I pushed the presence back as best as I could, but I still felt it lurking, watching. Waiting.
Breathing deeply, I focused on the witch to stay distracted from Theht. “Will this staff lead us to Lucretian?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Use your magic and the staff will show you the way.”
I studied the staff, its magic warming my hands, hoping I could use its powers without awakening Theht. Well, more than she already was awoken, anyway.
“What more can you tell us of this land we travel to?” Kull asked.
“I can tell you that to enter, you must rely on Olive’s magic.” She looked at me. “Do you know the spell word to cross through?”
Spell word? This was the first I’d heard of it. “I have the spell to cross from Earth to Faythander.”
“No, child. That spell will not work for a crossing like this.”
“Then what word am I to use?”
She studied me with those icy eyes, and I tried to keep from flinching. “The word you were given—the name of the world.”
Aha! “Yes, I know it.”
She nodded. “Keep it guarded. Do not repeat it unless you must.”
“I understand.”
“Very well. I shall guide you to the cave where you will prepare to cross before sunrise. Follow me.” She turned on her heel and headed for the doorway.
I glanced back at Fan’twar. He rested with his eyes closed, his head propped on his tail, reminding me of the way Han perched on the couch. I didn’t want to leave him. Even though I wanted to tell him good-bye, I decided it was best not to disturb him. Besides, I knew I would see him again soon.
The others followed the witch toward the doors, but I couldn’t bring myself to take a single step forward. If I was being honest with myself, I had to admit I was scared. I had confronted the bloodthorn in that cave—and it was also the place where I had encountered Theht. I never wanted to return to that place again.
Kull saw me waiting. He turned and came to my side.
“You’ve got that look,” he said.
“Look?”
“Yeah, that look that tells me when you’re worrying about something.”
“Not worried. Scared.”
“I see,” he said, his gaze drifting toward the doors where our companions followed the witch. “In that case, the feeling is mutual.”
I glanced up at him. Kull didn’t get scared. I wasn’t sure the word was in his vocabulary. “You’re scared? That’s hard to believe.”
He smiled and took my hand. “I know it seems impossible, but it’s true. I have an ill feeling about this journey. We travel to a place unknown, where I put not only my own life in jeopardy, but also the lives of my men and my sister.” His smile faded. “Worse, I will be putting your life in jeopardy.” A haunted look crossed his face. He’d told me before that he could never go on without me. I believed him. “But,” he said, “we have to reclaim the sword. At this point, we have no other options. If we want to stop Theht and save our world, then finding the sword of Dracon must be done.”
“Then let’s get this over with.”
“I agree.”
I walked with Kull’s hand in mine toward the doors and out of the ballroom, casting one last glance over my shoulder at my stepfather. Somehow, I knew he would be okay. Silvestra could be irrational and cruel at times, but she would protect her own kind. Even if she had tried to kill him not long ago.
But she was different now. At least, I hoped so.
Kull and I caught up with our companions just as they approached the main gates leading outside. No one spoke as we followed the witch out into the night.
I wrapped my cloak around my body as the wind gusted. Silvestra, carrying a lantern with green magical flames, led us around her castle and onto a narrow trail leading up the mountain. Boulders and patches of snow replaced the vegetation as we climbed higher. The silver glow cast from a crescent moon shone weakly, although Silvestra’s lantern gave off enough light for us to see the path ahead.
My heart raced the closer we neared the cave. I wasn’t ready to go back and face the demons that haunted it. I held the staff of Zaladin in a firm grip, letting its magic infuse mine, helping to calm me.
In the greenish glow of Silvestra’s lantern, the scars on my wrists stood out more than usual. I hated those scars—hated the memories they brought up. And now I returned to the place where the creature who had put them there tried to kill me. But the bloodthorn was dead now, and I was pretty sure I feared crossing into the third world more than I feared him.
None of this mattered. Being afraid didn’t matter. I would face my demons any day if it meant I stopped that asteroid—and if it meant I rid myself of Theht’s presence.
The wind grew colder, and ice formed along our path. I slipped on a patch, but managed to stay upright and continue forward.
As we approached the mountaintop, the wind grew shriller, like the screams of lost souls all mingled together, a haunting sound that announced we’d arrived.
I stood with the others as we stopped.
In the eerie glow of Silvestra’s lantern, we stared into a giant fissure splitting the mountain—the entrance to the cave.