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It was completely dark.
Wisps of greyish smoke curled around my body, blacked burnt tendrils seeking any purchase they could find in my lungs. I coughed and spluttered, the smog filtering down to my lungs and formed a massive lump that made it hard to breathe.
Something screeched horribly in the distance. My blood froze into nothing but pure ice crystals in fear, further chilling my already freezing skin. I spun around, trying in vain to see through the blackness darker than any moonless night but couldn’t make out anything at all. I lurched forward in a series of stumbling steps, my feet tangling over themselves in my haste, the urgency to flee whatever the beast was making me even clumsier than what the pure darkness had already rendered my movements.
I tried to call for my magic, for the burning sparkling energy that always surged through my veins like water but there was none. A dry, dusty pool remained where once a river of golden light had once been. The very thing I had cursed so many times was gone when I needed it the most.
Droplets of searing sweat dripped into my eyes and ran down my arm in blazing rivulets. The air was stifling hot and still as death, sucking the life and motion from my limbs quicker than I could even breathe. I slid down to my knees, crawling on all fours as fast I dared, each scream becoming even louder and more terrifying than the last. I had to get out of here!
The more I scrambled over the warm powdery substance beneath my hands, the more confused I became. No matter how far I traveled, I never seemed to end up anywhere different. There was no obstacles that I could feel because my sight was useless at this point, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that my next step would lead me straight off a cliff and to my death.
A swoosh of air repeatedly stirred against my back, hotter than any temperature I had encountered so far, the flesh felt like it was melting off my very bones with each press of the gust. The rising temperature made it even harder to breathe, my head swimming so bad that I could no longer tell which if up was down or down was up.
Over the pounding of my heart that was frantically trying to beat itself to death against my bones, I heard a sound that rendered everything else useless and void, the soft brushing of feet padding against the ground. The beast was here!
I blindly thrusted my hands out in front of my body, fingertips searching for something, anything to defend myself with. When the first firm obstacle I had encountered so far met my fingertips, I snatched it up without a second thought. Holding it in front of my body as one would use a sword, I crept backwards on my bare knees, the powdery ground stinging my skin like a thousand tiny ant bites while I strained my ears for any hint as to where the origin of the horrifying sounds lied.
The beast kept coming. The screams of the dying rolling fresh and fast from its throat. A river of misery from ones unlucky enough not to flee. The sickeningly sweet smell of burnt flesh overruling even the powerful acerbic stench of the smoke, replacing the choking mass in my lungs with something even stomach retchingly worse.
Dizzy from the smoke and the smell, I shook my weapon in the direction I thought the monster was coming from, only for something at the end of the length to fall off and hit my thigh. I screamed, the bony, spidery sensation of something crawling down my leg sent me scrambling even further backwards in sobs as I slapped at the object. I screamed again when I felt that it was the bones of a dismembered human hand crawling along across my foot, each tiny bone obvious as it gripped its fingers around my ankle before I kicked it off into the furthest reaches of the darkness.
In the same direction I kicked the skeletal hand, something white flashed in the dark. Long fangs extended in a gleeful search of prey. A fat, wet pink tongue slapped against dark rubbery lips. The screams and stench so overpowering that I fell forward, a sharp snapping pain shooting up my arm as it became awkwardly trapped between my chest and the floor. I didn’t even have time to scream as the fangs buried themselves into the back of my neck, shaking my body side to side as sharp claws sliced open my body from my shoulders to my hip. I tried to scream, to fight, but all the energy had suddenly drained from my body as a wave of paralyzing cold flooded my limbs, weighing them down as useless as sacks of flour. Faintly, before the cold swallowed me up, I could feel a snout rooting around in my innards, the dull sensation of something chewing on my body before everything simply stopped.
I jolted straight up from sleep, soaked to the skin in sweat and my stomach rolling dangerously with my dinner. When my throat contracted as dry heaves started pulling up what I last ate, the blankets are thrown to the floor as I stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before everything came spewing out with a burning vengance.
I stayed there for twenty minutes, waiting as each new bout of cramping pain brought up more and more until I was completely empty. The nightmare-induced sweat dried on my skin, chilling me to the bone like a fine coating of frost was lingering across my body. Finally, sweet mercifully finally, it all stopped.
Rocking backwards on my heels, I leaned my back against the battered and scraped wall for support. It was just a nightmare, something my mind conjured up from memories of the past few days, but if it truly was just a figment of my imagination, why did it feel so real? Why could I still feel the slide of razor tipped claws across my back? Or still hear the screams of the dying ringing faintly in my ears? If it was all truly a nightmare, then it would all have vanished when I had woken up.
The scream sounded again, and this time it wasn’t in my mind, that screech was most certainly real. Standing up to my full height on legs so shaky that I threatened to fall forward at any moment, I leaned up and peered out the cracked windowpane, a beautiful night sky full of bright stars eagerly greeted me as welcoming as a friend. The faint breeze so soft and gentle trailed across my face like gentle fingertips, soothing the chilled burn of the sweat and the last remainders of my nightmare away. The scream sounded again, and dark beating wings churned through the sky before tipping into a steep dive, one that rewarded the dark feathered lump with a twitching creature held tight between the bone crushing talons.
The scream sounded again, this time growing even shriller than the last when it was suddenly silenced by a sharp twisting snap. Whatever the creature had been before, it was now the dinner of a very hungry owl as Stryker’s hooked beak descended upon the corpse, twisting free a bite of flesh with each plunge.
I stepped away from the window, silently venturing back out into the bedroom where Sandra was still snoring away, completely oblivious to my suffering with her arm thrown over her eyes and mouth open wide. That’s okay though, I would really rather not have anyone fussing over me right now.
I eyed my bed with some distaste. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep for some time, not now after heaving my guts up, and I was curious to see if Stryker was simply hunting or if he had a message for me.
With careful movements as not to irritate my throbbing shoulder any further, I slid out of my sweat stained nightgown one arm at a time and I slipped into one of the long grey dresses I wore for my maid’s uniform, sans apron and cap, and my shoes before creping out into the mansion. The long hallways were eerily quiet in the night, the shadows playing and dancing along the walls like mischievous children seeking attention. I did my best to ignore them.
I’m learning my way around the mansion, slowly but surely, and I find myself quickly enough standing outside, the garden looming in the distance as somber as a graveyard. With the hedge now trimmed down, it is easy to see that King Nikos’s red tent has been reinstalled in the garden, and there is a scrunched little figure hovering by a campfire. After his somewhat fit of sanity today at the garden party, he must have returned to the madness once more. I paused at the corner of the hedge, looking left and then right to try and catch sight of my little feathered friend but he is nowhere to be seen.
“Hoo!”
I looked up at the sky and saw the silhouette of one shadow wrapped raptor slowly glide into view, his wingbeats so slow that I was sure he would fall out of the air simply from not flapping his wings, but he glided on with the most graceful of movements. Shortly before he landed on my shoulders, he changed course. His slow descend marked by his taloned feet reaching forward for a perch grabbed on to the fabric of my dress along my waist. His nails never pierced my skin, but I could easily feel the weight of his body threating to rip the seams free as he balanced himself eye level with my neck. At first he seemed a little confused, perhaps because I wasn’t quite as firm as he was expecting, but when I slowly lowered myself to sit on my rump in the grass and folded the skirt of my dress around my legs, he was much happier. Stryker snuggled right down into the crease of the fabric where my legs met together, his golden eyes scrunched up into tiny slits of happiness while the greyish brown feathers around the base of his beak pulled upwards in a tiny version of an owl smile. I chuckled softly, trailing my fingers around the curved circle of his skull in the same way he seemed to have enjoyed it so much before, and he absolutely melted under my touch. His body becoming boneless as water, his stubby wings stretching out to fan across my legs like a warm feather blanket while his legs kicked out between mine, toes twitching with happiness and only lightly scraping his talons against the inside of my knee.
“You like this don’t you, pretty boy?” I used the blunt edge of my fingernail to lightly scratch the downy cream feathers underneath his beak and he cooed, a light babyish sound of pure delight. In a way, he almost reminded me of a cat that used to hang around the shop, proud and independent but also sweet and caring at the same time.
My curiosity got the better of me as I ran my fingers down the limp portion of his leg, gently massaging the thick taught muscles of his leg right above where the vial was fastened before I removed the vial itself and emptied the paper into my hands – Stryker really must carry this stuff around constantly. The paper unrolled with only the slightest touch, almost like it was waiting for me to write to its other half.
Alec, Are you awake?
My finger glided across the smooth surface with ease, my indecision on whether to say more than that drew a peep from Stryker, his head rotating around to glance back over his shoulder before resuming his snuggled position against my chest. I drew my lower lip through my teeth, lightly biting the tender skin in a physical show of nerves while I waited. When the page remained blank, my hyperactive thoughts kicked into a higher speed. He’s probably asleep right now, almost everyone is, or he probably doesn’t want to talk right now.
Kyri,
Good evening. I wasn’t expecting you to write tonight. I had gathered from the blathering of the guards that a rather exciting luncheon took place in the garden today. One that also sent the Ghro girl into a faint when a certain maid bested the prince in archery. Am I correct in assuming that maid was you? After such exciting events, I was assuming that you would be too tired for any further communication and I had opted to allow you to rest rather than ask Stryker to wake you. It seems that my stubborn little companion had other ideas.
Almost on cue, Stryker let out an irritated little squawk, his stubby little wings beating the sides of my legs as he attempted a mock flap twice, turning his head to give the paper an angry hiss accompanied by a sharp clacking sound made from the two sides of his beak being snapped together in irritation. I chuckled, trying my best not to disturb the irate bird on my lap any further – it seemed that someone didn’t take too kindly to being called stubborn.
Yes, today was quite eventful, but it was kind of fun as well. Especially being able to show the prince that he was not as skilled as he claimed with a bow. I could have done without Milasy though, she was just an annoyance like always and you were right about her fainting. After I struck the bullseyes three times, King Nikos offered me a chance to join the prince and the soldiers at an archery training session and she fainted dead to the ground. She almost flattened her father, not that there was much to flatten to start with. Magistrate Ghro would have made more of a puddle than a smear. Regardless, it was irritating because I was left with most of the setup to do for the luncheon because the other maids were still in bed.
The other girls didn’t help you?
No, not really. My roommate Sandra came down after I had already ferried most of the food out to the garden table and made sure everything looked perfect and was arranged properly, but the other maids just gave me the evil eye when they escorted the royal party out to the garden.
I sighed, it was just like when I was in school. I was always the different one, it didn’t matter how many times I tried to introduce myself, even when my hands weren’t glowing with magic, I was always excluded.
Have you talked to the other maids about your feelings? Maybe they are just jealous of a new member joining their ranks. I understand that jealously is usually the appropriate emotion when someone is faced with that kind of circumstance and it can usually be resolved by talking to the one that you are troubled with. I can’t say that approach helped me as I was a frequent member of the excluded ones in school as well, but maybe it would help you.
Really, he was an oddball kid too? Somehow I could see that, a little boy with curly silver blonde hair and green eyes sitting on the side while all the other kids played ball and whatnot like I did. It was kinda depressing.
You were one of the outcast kids?
The paper stayed blank for a moment almost like he was gauging how much information about his past to reveal to me. I was on the verge of writing back when the elegant formed letters appeared once more.
I was the only child of my family, and one my mother thought she would never had, so I was treated as a little prince from a very young age. I wasn’t spoiled mind you, but I was given the best they could achieve, clothing, combat training, schoolwork. It was so that I would have an advantage over my peers, one that I did need because I was accused of being rather odd in actions. As you know, I like to speak my mind and sometimes I do have trouble reading people’s emotions and expressions correctly. What makes sense to me doesn’t always make sense with the next person. I have improved greatly from my younger mindset, but certain things do still puzzle me and I have to figure those out. Like you. To me, you are a puzzle. A girl who has the skills of a warrior and the hand of a magician, but stays in her duties out of devotion to her family. You could go anywhere, do anything you like, yet you stay for the urge of a memory. You stay in this kingdom that would kill you if given the chance. You should not be oppressed as you have been, you should embrace the beauty of your skills and learn to properly live with them.
Mesmerized by his words, I sat in the garden as still as stone itself, unable to even process what I should do or say next. For someone who admitted he has trouble understanding people’s emotions, he certainly targeted a weak spot of mine.
A scream, this one higher pitched and keening than Stryker’s own, attracted my attention away from the paper in my hand to the ramshackle hut I couldn’t believe was an actual aviary—The entire structure looked as if it would blow down into a useless heap with one good brisk wind, but must be fairly sturdy if it can house the forceful birds.
Kyri, I hope I didn’t offend you.
It’s okay, you didn’t. I think someone is coming so I am going to go. Talk to you later.
I didn’t even give Alec time to reply, instead I quickly rolled the paper back into the vial and reattached it to the outstretched leg laying across my lap. One golden eye blinked solemnly, but Stryker decided against moving from his comfortable napping position and merely yawned, granting me a glimpse of the moist pink flesh inside his mouth before his beak closed with a light snap
“What’cha doing sitting here in the dark, girlie?” I jumped Solomon’s bald head gleamed in the moonlight as he bowleggedly waddled closer, the dark humped form of a bird sitting astride his right shoulder rustled its wings in response to its master’s question. The ever present scowl on Solomon’s face had not lightened in the least from the absence of this morning, and even more bizarre was how it perfectly matched the expression of the ash grey and white bird on his shoulder. “Actually, why are ye out prowling around this time of night? Ain’t all ye little critters supposed to be tucked in bed?”
With the soft click of the ever chirping crickets bogs trickling through the air, the warm air felt more like summer than spring, positively perfect for enjoying outdoors if you were awake like I was. The soft squealing of bats fluttered through the air as they hurriedly flapped along in pursuit of their insectoid prey, further providing proof that not all of the little critters were asleep at this time of the night. “I couldn’t sleep.” I replied, trying to subtly pull the loose fabric of my skirt up and around Stryker’s snoozing form so that it wouldn’t be so obvious that I had a raptor stretched out on my lap.
The movement didn’t escape the falconer’s keen eyed gaze and was then rendered unnecessary when Stryker snapped into a defensive pose. Sleek feathers puffed up all over his body till he appeared twice his size as his roundish head lowered nearly level with his talons, wings spread and pointed downward in a movement that shielded my body behind a fan of extended feathers. Those eyes watched Solomon’s every movement, beak clacking sharply twice in warning against the threat and black ear tufts sticking straight up on either side of his head like a pair of miniature swords, his curved beak half open and pink tongue slightly protruded as his throat feathers bobbed in rhythm to his drawn-out warning hisses.
“Easy now, young feller.” Showing no fear, Solomon came forward despite Stryker’s warning beak clacks and stroked a leather gloved finger along the curve of the raptor’s breast. The owl on my lap calmed slightly, but he kept his wings lightly flared like he was shielding me from danger. “That’s quite a fierce one ye got there.”
“Thank you. Yours is beautiful as well.” The hawk perched on his arm preened slightly at my complement and it was no lie. Although smaller bodied and thinner than Stryker, the hawk itself had a certain gracefulness in evidence even if he wasn’t flying at the moment.
Solomon looked at me with surprised interest. “Ah, interested in this handsome feller right here? I don’t blame ye. He is a right beautiful thing. Lovely shade of feathers, strong muscles, and a sense of humor to boot. The only problem is, I can’t get him to fly properly. Probably got something to do with him flying into the walls. That’s how one of the guards patrolling the wall found him lying spread-eagle on the wall top, completely conked out. Even though he had no visible sign of injury, the guard brought him straight here, a surprising feat considering the greenhorn could barely string two sentences together.”
Really? That was interesting. I had read before that some birds had trouble wanting to fly after a traumatic experience. Perhaps he was simply going through withdrawl?
The hawk on the falconer’s shoulder glared at Stryker with its beady dark eyes, an expression that my feathered friend echoed by opening his beak and letting out a single long snakelike hiss.
“Shh, it’s okay.” I managed in between puffs of air as I tried in vain to push the outstretched feathers away from my lips.
“So, what’s a little gal like ye doing with a bird like him? Solomon hacked and spit on the ground.
“Would you believe he followed me home?” I pasted on my best innocent expression, but I don’t think it worked.
Solomon glanced at the bird on my lap and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t lie.”
“Okay, I met him out in the forest when I was a member of one of the Raven’s guild outings beyond the wall. My mother was a seamstress and she needed Vitare silk and we didn’t have the money to buy it off the black market, so I snuck outside the wall in one of the parties and found some. My little friend here led me into the darkest part of the forest to a Vitare nest, but also tried to get me eaten by a Bloodwrath.” I finished in a huff, trying to gloss over the remaining tale of how Alec had killed the monstrous creature with one arrow.
The falconry master blinked once, twice. Himself now greatly resembling a befuddled bird with his long nose and confused scowl. His head tilted to the side, inner gears turning as he processed the information I just told him. I could probably start planning my execution now, because I’m sure he’ll run straight to the prince and tell him that I was connected with magic, even though it wasn’t my magic really.
Both Stryker and I jolted in surprised shock when Solomon let out a loud, belly-busting guffaw. “Yer a rebel just like you’re father, ain’t ya? That explains that trick with the archery target today, although I wouldn’t have picked such a public place to show it off, but hey, that’s yer head.” He grumbled between shakes of merriment, one finger wiping away the water that had leaked from the corner of his squinted up eyes as what could have passed for a smile crinkled up his ancient face, flashing his snaggled teeth in the moonlight.
“P-Pardon me?” My voice quivered as I stammered out those few words. My father, a rebel? He couldn’t be, he was completely loyal to the king. They were best friends their whole lives for goodness sake!
“Ay, I can see you’re surprised. You must not know the whole truth, only what those pond scum sucking vermin are feeding to the people of this kingdom.” He transferred the hawk from his shoulder to the heavy leather glove on his left hand. “Follow me and I’ll tell ye the whole story.”
With that said, the falconry master turned away and shuffled back to the aviary, the hawk held on his outstretched hand and bobbing in time with his loping steps.
I didn’t hesitate before scrambling up after him, Stryker taking to the air with an undignified squawk after he was unceremoniously dumped from my lap. I didn’t speak to him the entire time I followed Solomon in silence, the slight puffs of air buffeting the back of my head was the only indication that Stryker had decided to follow me instead of flying off to a more peaceful corner of the world to rest.
Solomon paused outside the ramshackle little shed I had notice before in the garden, the hawk took to the air as soon as he opened the door, the rush of wind stirred up by the bird’s slender wings blew churned up a small storm of dust and discarded feathers as it landed in the interior, a deadly tornado on wings. A wooden perch crackled under the pressure of the bird’s powerful grasping talons as it landed, tiny fierce eyes shining in the dark as it awaited its final routine before bed much like a small child.
“Here ya go.” Solomon mumbled just barely audible, rummaging one hand in his pocket for a dark, furry lump, he handed it to the hawk before leaving to lock the door. The subject of the bird’s dinner trailed by its long naked pink tail out of his beak as he tried to swallow the mouse whole.
Solomon flipped the heavy latch across the door and started off towards a large lump of untamed ivy grown completely wild. As we drew nearer, I could see small, square glass windows perched amidst the green overgrowth along with the outline of a door. It was a cabin, hidden from sight by the ivy and completely secluded despite being located in the castle garden. Extending one hand into the ivy, Solomon rummaged around beneath the vines before latching onto something that made a clicking noise. An entire doorframe shuddered free from the foliage laden wall and swung inward, revealing the night-darkened interior of a one-room cabin.
“Well, come on in and sit a spell.” He motioned me inward as he stepped inside, the scraping sounds of his boots against the wood flooring painfully loud after experiencing the gentle trill of the crickets and the hum of the night breeze. I waved my fingers at Stryker and the bird settled down onto a branch, his golden eyes studying my ever movement with a serene patience of one used to waiting on something. Inside the cabin, there was a tingy clatter, a muffled curse, and the familiar smell of gas floated through the air seconds before an orange flame flickered to life inside a smoke greased lamp. “That oughta do it!” Solomon declared as he sank into the seat of an old wooden rocker with a sigh.
Taking stock of my surroundings, the new light source didn’t do much to improve the interior. Dried food encrusted dishes were piled high in the single sink next to a wood burning stove. A cracked and chipped claw foot tub in even worse shape than the one in the bathroom I shared with Sandra stood opposite the tiny kitchen area. Last was the bed, a king size by the look of it, that occupied an entire corner of the cabin by itself, not including the set of three floor to ceiling wooden storage cabinets that I assumed contained his clothes, food and anything else he needed. Unlike most people’s living spaces, the area contained no personal belongings of any sort. No paintings of family, special objects, or anything. Very sparse with not even a decoration in sight.
I decided to take a seat on an overturned bucket as there was no extra chair available with the rocker occupied by the falconer. My fingers twirled a loose strand of my hair around as I waited for the old man to speak again – he was really quiet, maybe he died when he sat down? I hope not.
“Do ye know why your last shot destroyed that target today?” Solomon asked, the scowl now replaced on his features.
I carefully shrugged my shoulders. I hadn’t really thought about the target crumbling after my final arrow. Probably weighted down by all the strikes I guess, and I said so.
“Wrong! You blasted that dang thing apart with magic.”
My eyes bugged out of their sockets. Magic? How in the heck did this old fart know about my magic? Second, I didn’t even summon it, I was too busy trying to keep my hands from glowing instead of blasting things apart! “I don’t know what you’re talking about but I don’t have magic. That’s a crime punishable by death.
“Heh, heh, hee. I told ye not to lie to me, girlie.” He broke off into an attack of rib-shaking, wheezing coughs that had him fumbling for a ratty handkerchief from his pocket. He held the square of dingy white cloth up to his mouth and hacked even harder, clots of dark scarlet blood quickly spattering against the stark whiteness. After a few minutes, the coughing spell subsided into harsh, irregular breaths as Solomon leaned back into his rocker and sighed, a small trail of blood still leaking from the corner of his lips.
“Are you okay?” I asked tentatively. I hadn’t known him very long, but the old man seemed to be the type of person who didn’t like people to interfere when he was sick.
“Eh, it’s just the troublesome part of getting old. But ye don’t want to hear about that.” He paused to suck in another series of wheezing breaths. “Yer father was the same way, a first class soldier, captain of the king’s personal protection squad, and trusted childhood friend of the king. But, he was also a user of the most powerful class of magic that exists. Light magic. Evidently the same magic that now flows through your veins.”
I couldn’t speak at first, my lips flapping open and closed as useless as a doll’s. Light magic? Where in heck did this come from? My dad didn’t use magic. I was little, but I can still remember seeing him ride his horse and shoot a bow and arrow, striking the heart of the target with every single shot. That was not magic, that was years of hard training put to work, the same thing he told me when I was strong enough to fire a bow. Hard work is what gives you what you need, not illegal magic. My magic was just a result of me being born a freak of nature. “That can’t be right. Magic in any form is outlawed in the kingdom.”
“Aye twas, girlie. I saw it with my own eyes. Your father was a light magic user, one so skilled that he could conjure the sun to come out in the darkest of nights.” His eyes narrowed into tiny slits as he focused on my face. “And yer right again that magic is outlawed in the kingdom, but that didn’t stop ye and hundreds of others from sneaking out to get a piece of yer own. Makes life a little easier, don’t it? So don’t go being all high and mighty. Yer just like the rest of us. Well, almost like us.”
I blushed and nodded. I was guilty to the core with that action. Vitare thread had helped pay the bills at the shop more than once.
“Now, shut up and listen real good. Yer in danger, girlie. Because yer are a light magic user, the shadows are seeking a way to destroy the light.”
“The shadows? Isn’t that what King Nikos claims to see?” I shivered slightly at the memory of the sinister shapes dancing along the walls.
Solomon nodded gravely. “Aye, and ye seen them too. Don’t even bother protesting. I know the look on yer face, same way Nikos used to look. Before he went stark-raving bonkers that is. The shadows drove him to that state. I told him before, he needed to be careful with magic. That it wasn’t for foolish mortals like him, it only ends in disaster.”
The full meaning of the words sunk in like the werewolves claws had in my flesh. “You mean... Nikos is responsible for all of this? The wall, the magical beasts, and everything?” My voice ended in a slightly higher pitch than I had intended.
“Aye.” The old man simply nodded again. “Nikos was born the second son, the spare child, if ye prefer such a term. In addition to being the second child, he was also born mortal. Not able to do the magic that his parents and family performed was further seen as a defect in the young prince, especially when his brother was especially gifted in magic. No one knew any different, but the Nikos was insanely jealous of his talented older brother, hiding his feelings with a façade of happy carelessness. No one suspected the prince’s true feelings, but his jealously rose to an insane new height when his brother married the very noblewoman that he had feelings fer. That is when the prince began dabbling in dark magic, the result being the death of his brother and receiving the crown and queen Mirabelle in return. However, the black magic returned back to the user, taking away the queen into black depths and leaving Nikos alone to rule as the shadows whispered talks of doom and dire in his ear.”
I broke out of the alluring spell of the tale with a quick shake of my head. “But what about Travain? Nikos is not alone, he has his stepson.”
“Aye, but I believe it is because Travain reminds him of the brother he murdered and the love he lost. It’s too painful for him to see the boy as a person, rather than memories of the past. The wall is an extension of that same fear. He is trying to keep out the magic that changed his life, but he can’t. Black magic is already here, tainting every surface with its vile tentacles.”
“But what does all that have to do with me? I don’t have magic, and I certainly haven’t used any black magic!” My hands flew up in exasperation as I stood up and began to pace, only to quickly shove my hands behind my back as the golden glow took on a brighter hue. So, I was lying just a little bit. Just because this old man was partially dead didn’t mean that he couldn’t tell a secret if the price was right.
“It has everything to do with ye because ye are the only light magic user in this kingdom! Yer father made me promise before he died that if you were ever taking here, that I had to tell ye the truth. So, I’ve done as I promised.” The chair groaned as Solomon began a slow rocking motion, wrinkled eyes closing as his head tipped forward onto his chest.
I paced back and forth even faster, restless energy filling my legs and strengthened the strike of my feet against the wood flooring. My skin itched, like it was trying to crawl free from my body in order to get away from this crazy dream. I looked out one of the tiny windows and saw the moon’s high position had started to fall. I needed to go back to my room and get to sleep. The morning would come soon enough and with it, a new round of cleaning jobs to be done.
I turned away from the window and held up a single finger. “Okay, say I believe that all this is true. That Nikos is a madman that dabbled in magic, and my father was some kind of mystical light wielder that could slay anything.”
The old man raised up instantly, beady eyes narrowing into thin slits of anger and his lips curling into a snaggletooth snarl. “Ye calling me a liar?”
“No, but tell me this. If, and only if, I had any of this theoretical magic, what am I supposed to do with it? The very first instant I tried to use it in public would call forth so many soldiers that my head would hit the floor before I could even breath. So how am I supposed to defeat this dark magic if I can’t even use it properly?”
He shrugged. “I dunno, girlie. Yer father just waved his hands in the air and poof! A ball of light appeared, or like you did earlier with the arrow and the blast of the magic-enhanced weapon would blow the target apart. Ye’ll just have to ask the maid about that.”
“Sandra? But her magic is just for show, her sister was a street performer.”
Solomon chuckled. “Maybe, maybe not. The only way you’ll know is to ask her yourself.” His jaws stretched wide in a yawn on the last word. “Now git on back! I’m tired and I want to sleep. Don’t forget to close the door behind ye when ye leave.”
With that now said, he folded his bony hands across his lap and dropped his chin back to his chest, wrinkled eyelids dropping closed as his wheezy breathing began to even out. He was already dozing off to the sleep and I hadn’t even left yet.
I started to walk over and shake him till he woke up and provided more answers, but I don’t think he would help. He’d probably sic those trained birds of his on me anyway. So, stepping out on silent feet, I did as he asked and made sure the door was locked tight before leaving. The well-weathered wood fit snugly into the doorframe, the over-coating of ivy supported once more and the invisibility of the cabin was restored save for the watery light from the lamp dancing against one of the windowpanes. Sometime during my absence, Stryker had left. The branch he had landed on previously was now bare and bobbing slightly in the night breeze.
I had a lot to think about as I headed back to my room. Was all that I just heard really true? Or was it simply the deranged mumblings of an old man that had lived too long by himself. If what he claimed was true, then how come he was the only one privileged to that information? And what about my dad? Solomon never did tell me about why my dad had that power, and if he was the rebel he claimed to be, or the loyal huntsman that I had read about in his diaries. Or even worse, he was simply just a freak like myself. My head ached from trying to imagine all of the possibilities, and instead of turning in the direction of my room once I was inside the mansion, I turned to the kitchen instead.
I need a cup of tea!