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THE SHIELD THAT PROTECTED Barin, Anna, and Kandace flickered. Barin knew why, yet he struggled with controlling his thoughts, and wondered what other candors awaited him. Anna had a willing role in this treachery having grown up aware of the dangers hidden in this pit of Hades, and yet she sent an innocent youngster—two innocent youngsters—into its trap. Or had she sent more? He breathed in deeply as the light blinked. For Kandace’s sake he tightened his grip on the sword and wiped those thoughts from his mind.
The dark magic fed on anger and hate and if it festered in him, it would be magnified through the sword. Barin must be above those things. The time for justice would come, but now was not that time.
“This is the gateway to Rinbard,” Anna whispered.
A hint of daylight at the end of a rise offered hope, but the long corridor leading to it swelled, indicating a heavy population of Influencers ready to attack.
“We should hurry,” Barin said. “Run through it. Don’t look back.”
“Running won’t save us.” Anna turned to him as he picked Kandace up. The child hugged him and buried her head in his chest. Her little body trembled, and he wanted to cry her tears.
“Whatever you think of me, don’t now,” Anna warned.
“Are you afraid, Anna?” Barin asked with a sneer. The light of the shield flickered.
“We can settle this later,” she said. “For now, I’m your friend. I’m Kandace’s friend. Just believe that.”
Barin wished he could, wholly, and he tried. And he would have to keep trying at least until they made it to the gateway.
“Please let’s just get out! Please,” Kandace mumbled and grasped him tightly. For her Barin took a deep breath and forged ahead through the sickly pale hands that grabbed his clothes, his hair, his legs. They caught Kandace’s cowl and yanked on it. She screamed.
“She’s a friend,” Barin whispered to Kandace with a lump in his throat, trying to set his mind straight as he held onto her and the sword while controlling the shield with his thoughts. “Anna means no harm.”
The sword heated, and a brilliant glow surrounded them before it flickered again. The words were lies, he feared.
“I want to trust,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I have to.”
“You can,” Kandace mumbled as if she knew what was going on. He took encouragement from her, and though the sword didn’t shine radiantly, still it glowed enough to protect them from the many outstretched arms and wicked faces that followed them.
Anna jutted ahead of Barin.
“It’s here, quickly!” she said.
Barin set Kandace on the ground, the light faltering again, and with one hand holding the sword, he pointed his blade to where he thought the portal would be. Still nothing. The Influencers crowded into the corridor, forming a mass of menacing spirits that lunged toward them. With a sweep of the sword, the wind of the shield blew them backward.
“Do it! King Barin, get us out of here!” Kandace’s cry resonated through the hallway so desperate, so heart-wrenching, that the need to save her swelled inside of him like an angry storm He spun around releasing the power of the sword, and a portal burst open.
Anna stumbled out. Barin swept Kandace into his arms and raced outside.
They ran, though snow slowed their efforts as they sank to their knees with each step. Tips of bramble bushes pushed up against mounds of white and overburdened tree limbs drooped. The cold air froze his breath and by the time they reached a clearing free of firs, his lungs hurt.
“They aren’t following us,” Anna panted. “They can’t travel far from the gateways, fortunately.”
Barin set Kandace down and tossed the sword on the ground. He grabbed Anna's arm. “You lied to me!”
“I was afraid of you.”
“I only wanted the truth.”
“And you have it now.” Her face glowed red from the cold, and her hair wet, hung in threads. She slapped his hand away. “It’s just as much a struggle for me as it is anyone, Barin. You have to believe me.”
“I only have to believe the truth. The rest shouldn’t even be spoken.”
“What truth do you want to believe?” she asked.
“Stop it! I’m freezing!” Kandace cried.
Barin gave Anna one last dagger eye, picked up his sword, and sheathed it straightaway. He lifted Kandace out of the snow, and trudged downhill, not knowing where he was going other than away from Anna. But she followed a distance behind regardless. The incline ended at what appeared to be a road, though a blanket of white powder buried it. The sun peeked through the clouds, and when it did, the snow shone so brilliantly he had to squint to see and pulled Kandace’s cowl over her face to shade her eyes.
The faint aroma of hickory smoke kept teasing him. He didn’t see it at first, but a village must be nearby. “Where are we?” he asked without looking over his shoulder.
“Rinbard. The last city before the lands of Rigelstaff and the emperor’s holdings. You’re an enemy here, King Barin of Potamia," Anna answered.
Kandace looked up at him. She was so close to his face that he could feel her warm breath on his cheeks. He adjusted her weight in his arms and smiled at her.
“You’ll find us a warm place to stay and a good meal, won’t you, King Barin?”
“I will,” he answered.
When he came to a viewpoint overlooking the winding blue river to the east, he paused. Rinbard’s domed towers mirrored the waters, and colored the landscape like the plumage of a peacock. Its walls were tipped with red tile, and a gateway facing the river caught the sunlight. As a river-port city its docks banded the shoreline, giving anchorage to sailing vessels of all sizes. A red-stoned road decorated with merchant tents snaked along the shore.
“And I thought the white towers of Prasa Potama were a grand display,” Barin sighed.
“Is that where we’re going?” Kandace pointed to the city.
Anna stepped next to him, her eyes fixed on the royal spectacle. “It’s only a shadow at midnight compared to the city of Rigelstaff. You must be cautious here, Barin. If the inhabitants catch word that the King of Potamia has entered their borders without an invitation, you could face consequences.”
“Something else to worry about, Anna?” He turned to her, looking for honesty and finding only mystery. “Do I have to be concerned that you’ll tell someone who I am?”
“Barin—” She returned his gaze with a puzzled look.
He shook his head, put Kandace on his shoulders, and headed down the hill.
How it hurt to not trust her. If Kandace hadn’t giggled when she grabbed his hair to balance herself, he might have lashed out at Anna. But the sound of the child’s laughter softened the pain.
He loved Anna. Or had. It had excited him thinking that he finally found someone with whom he could share his life. He was ready to ask for her hand in marriage and be rid of lonely nights, secluded days, and bearing the burden of a kingdom by himself. Anna would have been the one to give him a family, but she had to denounce her father’s wickedness. She swore to him before they took this journey that she would. She had promised. A lump formed in his throat remembering the words she had whispered with tender kisses the night before they left Prasa Potama. He had believed her. Not once had she disclosed her orders to send the children to the Neverworld.
He couldn’t even look at her now.
The blanket of snow tapered into patches as he descended. The muddy road turned into wet cobblestone the nearer to civilization he came, passing farmhouses of exquisite design—one grand abode after another—their fields turned over for the winter and bedded away as well as a babe in swaddling clothes. Gabled roofs with blue and red tiles, floral patterns on windowsills and doors, stone walkways in intricate mosaics—a more colorful settlement Barin had never seen, and this was before he reached the gates.
When he set her down to walk, Kandace skipped ahead, stopping near a yard to admire an alabaster statue of a deer-like animal. A woman stood in the doorway in a costume as remarkably adorned as the patterns of her home. It was a linen tunic that she wore, but the sleeves were embroidered with rows of green and red florals. Red and pink leaves streamed down to the hem and met another border of green. The front of her apparel was layered with gold and black fabric, the red floral pattern an accent along her neckline. Her black hair flowed in waves over her shoulders, and her bangs all but hid her eyes. She turned when she saw them, went back into her house, and closed her door.
“That woman is of the Rine tribe,” Anna whispered. “Few speak our language. They’re not a hostile people, but neither are they overly friendly. They’re loyal to Barte son of Moshere and many of their men have joined the Black Armored Army. We must be a sight to them, dressed in wet clothes, stringy hair, and pale from frost.”
Barin glanced at Anna. “What do you suggest we do? Where can we get a meal and a bed out of the cold?”
“I know of a place. Follow me.”
She led them past the colorful farmsteads to the docks. A throng of people moved in and out of the gateway to the city. Some came from ships—sailors with carts and trunks of goods—others from a road to the east. From out of the city a procession headed up the eastern highway, mules carrying cargo and people in colorful tunics, like the woman they saw at the farmhouse, leading them.
Anna took his arm when he stopped to stare.
“Come this way,” she said and turned down a road toward the water. Low-hanging branches sheltered them from the sun—huge tree limbs a cultivar Barin had never seen the likes of. Trees with red bark smooth like madrona but much larger in width, levitated above like arms of the gods pressing them close to the earth. Barin held Kandace’s hand as they hurried after Anna. The trail meandered farther down the mountain and led to the water, away from the public dock to a less populated wharf where a bonfire burned.
Barin slipped into the shadows and regarded the two men warming themselves by the fire. They wore tunics over skirts of blue and red. Belts wrapped around their waist supported swords with curved blades and long-handled daggers. Scarves covered their heads and hung wrapped around their necks. Their dark beards were neatly trimmed, and their eyes were as dark as the night and just as mysterious. The woman wore silk pants under her tunic, had bare feet from which jewels dangled around her ankles, and stones glimmered on her toes. They spoke in a language Barin had never heard before.
“Why did you bring us here?” Barin whispered to Anna, holding Kandace in his arms again.
“The woman on the drum,” Anna whispered.
Barin noticed her then. A fragile whisper of a woman, strikingly beautiful, her thick black hair seemed heavier than her size should carry. With the pastel colors she wore and her graceful movements, she reminded Barin of a butterfly.
“I met her three years ago. Her father bought horses from us and invited us to stay with them on their farm while we taught them how to groom the breed. We became friends and Sha taught me how to spin. I think she’ll give us a place to stay. We must wait until the others retire for the night before we talk to her though. I’m not sure how her neighbors will feel about boarding the king of Potamia.” Anna sat in the sand and scooted into the shadow of the rocky cliffs.
“I’m hungry,” Kandace complained. Barin held her tighter.
“Soon,” he said, settling in the sand behind a pile of driftwood.
Either the people didn’t see them, or they ignored their presence, but before too long, the men bowed cordially to one another.
They conversed in their language as they bowed. Sha shook her head and waved them on.
“Nie, nie,” she kept saying and turned away from them. The men shrugged, watched her for a few moments, and then retreated down the road toward the wharf. When they were gone, and before Anna made her presence known, the woman spoke again.
“Why do you bother me, Anna. Who have you brought?”
Anna stood, and Barin came out of the shadows with her.
“We seek a night’s rest and a meal for the little one and ourselves.”
“Who is your friend? The blond-haired monarch from across the river? He’s a handsome one. Are you two married?” she asked and held out her hand to Anna.
Anna’s face turned red, and Barin’s cheeks heated.
“No, we’re not married, Lady Sha. This is Barin.”
“King Barin? They crowned you then? I’ve heard about you. But let’s not talk out here where the seagulls listen. They’re a gossiping flock, and they don’t know how to keep secrets. Come.”
They followed her down the dock and walked a narrow wharf to a house built on pontoons. Sha folded back a curtain and ushered them into a dimly lit room, giving Barin a knowing eye after glimpsing his sword. He grasped the hilt in defense of her gaze.
Don’t worry, King,” she said softly as he helped Kandace into the boat, “your troubles are your own. I want nothing to do with them.”
She must be a seer, he thought.
Scarves of silks draped the wooden ceiling, and jewels in the form of stars, orbs, and lockets twirled on strings and rocked with the boat, casting colorful rainbows on the walls around them. Incense infused the room, a sweet rosy smell that calmed Barin’s nerves.
The room was cramped, with one table in the center, cupboards along the wall, a counter with a wash basin and a bed. In the rear of the houseboat hung a loom with a weaving halfway done. Sha slipped inside the boat house after them and closed the curtain. Without another word, she took the lid off a kettle on the table and ladled enough stew to fill three bowls. Barin, taken by her elegance, watched quietly.
Kandace wasted no time eating, and her manners might have been better were she not a peasant’s daughter. Anna frowned at the girl and tasted her own soup. Barin waited, watchful of all three.
“What are you doing here, Anna?” Sha asked, leaning back against a tapestry.
“We’re traveling.”
“To see your father?”
Anna stopped eating for a moment and looked at Barin.
“You came through the thresholds?” she asked.
“How did you know?”
“How else would you have gotten here on foot? Time speeds through the Neverworld and you look as though you’ve only been traveling a night and a day, and yet you are a week away from your homeland. Unless you came by boat, but you don’t look as though you’ve been on the sea, and I don’t smell it on you. Besides, you would have never gotten away with bringing the king of Potamia across our borders. You follow your father? Does he know?” She sipped her tea. “That seems odd.”
“Why is it odd, Sha?”
“You know why, Anna. Unless...” Her dark eyes rested on Barin for a moment with a look of...pity? “Unless this king has no idea why you’re bringing him to your father.”
“I come on my own. Anna is not bringing me anywhere,” Barin interjected, his tone coarser than it should have been. He stood with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Anna’s eyes grew wide, and Kandace looked at him anxiously.
“I’m not a threat to you, Barin son of Tobias.” Sha’s calm surprised him. “Eat so you’re nourished for your journey.” Her eyes fell on Kandace for a moment. “I cannot hide you, Anna. Go to the fishermen in the cove. For now, that will be the best place.” She waved for Barin to sit again and when he did she shook her head at him. “There will be a bounty offered to bring you to the emperor. Your sun-colored hair will be a dead giveaway as to who you are.”
“I know the emperor.”
She raised her brow.
“I’ve had dealings with Barte son of Moshere in the past. I’m not afraid of him.”
“When was the last time you spoke to the emperor?” she asked, her dark eyes drilling into his.
“Three years ago.”
A slight smile stretched across her face. “He is not the same man he was three years ago. He was a boy then. Foolish. He has gathered an army of cruel men around him and he has changed. You might not want to meet him on his terms.”
“I’m not afraid.” Barin couldn’t possibly be alone in this quest to free the children. His soldiers were looking for him, and with any clue at all, Neal would know where he was headed.
Neither could Barte son of Moshere be part of this conspiracy. Isn’t Lord Sylvester targeting all monarchs? Should the emperor learn that the children were abducted into an army to overthrow his empire, clearly he would help Barin. “We only need a warm bed for the night and then we’ll be gone. Where are these fishermen?”
“When you have eaten, I will take you to them,” Sha answered.
The sun had crossed its zenith, well on its way to setting when the four left the houseboat. Sha threw a headscarf the color of rich wine over Barin and adjusted it around his neck, tucking his blond curls behind his ears so they didn’t show. She gave him a coat of fur, wrapped a sash around his waist and stepped back with her arms folded.
“Much better,” she said.
Kandace she also wrapped in a wide scarf of blue to cover her own tattered gown. The girl’s mouth dropped.
“It’s beautiful!”
“You can keep this,” Sha told her, “since you like it so much.”
“Thank you!”
She gave Anna a head covering, but that was all, and then they walked another less-traveled road along the water, away from the city. They came to a fishing village where the citizens were not so colorfully dressed but whose shops were made of wood instead of canvas and connected to their homes. They had large bins filled with fish under their porches. Nets and buoys hung on the sides of their walls, and hand carts were placed next to every home, some filled, some empty, some being rolled out to the docks where long, pointed river boats waited to unload. Here the fishers and their families sold to merchants from the city and there was much trading going on when Barin arrived. The fishers were not dressed as Barin, but the merchants were, and so he did not stand out as a foreigner among them. They strolled through the crowd, inspected some of the fish, and Barin nodded and smiled when a woman asked something in a different language. He had no idea what she said, Sha did not translate, and Anna had stopped to talk with a family—a woman and two little girls.
Alarmed, still not trusting the baron’s daughter, he excused himself and hurried to the people Anna had been talking to. The mother had in her arms a child very close to Maurice’s age. The mother smiled and nodded at Barin when he stepped up to them.
“This is Sunny, Barin. Isn’t she beautiful?” Anna nodded toward a young girl by the mother’s side. “Just like the sunshine!” The girl giggled and held on to her mother’s shawl.
“And such a strong little boy!” Anna said. When she touched the toddler’s cheeks, his eyes widened, and then, to Barin’s horror, he began to shake. The woman pulled away from Anna. The cries of the child alarmed two Rine merchants and they raced to the woman and with some struggle, they took the child away from her. When they carried him away, the mother fell to her knees, crying. Sunny looked at the king with tearful eyes. Barin wanted to help but before he had time to act, Sha came up from behind him.
“Come with me! Hurry!” she whispered and drew him away from the scene. Anna put her shawl over her hair, and bowing her head, she followed them.
“What did you do?” Barin growled at Anna as they hurried down a woody trail.
“Nothing! I swear on the bones of our fathers,” Anna answered. Tears dampened her cheeks, and she wiped them away. “I did nothing.”
“The Rines are watchful of their young,” Sha explained near out of breath. “When a child has a seizure, they are taken to the Shaman immediately where they will stay until the Wise One allows them to return to their parents. If we had stayed, Anna, you would have been interrogated. It would not have been pleasant.”
“I did nothing.” She took Kandace’s hand and the two hurried ahead.
“Perhaps it was just the taint of the Neverworld,” Sha whispered. “It’s on your fingertips. Be mindful of what you touch.”
Pools of melted snow dabbled the road Sha led them on, and tall clusters of grass brushed against their shoulders. When they came to a house nestled among shrubbery, Sha slowed and turned to them.
“An elder lives here. He’ll give you rest for the night. This is as far as I will take you though.”
Before Barin could say thank you, or protest her leaving, she bowed low and turned. Her frail figure disappeared back the way they had come.
“Well, that’s odd,” Barin said of Sha’s disappearance. He breathed deeply, perplexed, and wondering if this were an ensnarement. He grimaced at Anna. If Kandace had not been with them, he might not have proceeded. But the girl needed rest, warmth, and food. He stepped on the porch.
The home was not small, but rather the size of an inn, with steep gables and freshly cut thatching. An attractive cottage with bird houses peeking out of the roof, and curious designs carved on the windowsills. He knocked on the door and waited. Anna and Kandace stood quietly on the road.
Before too long the door creaked open enough that a chain latch tightened inside, and the eyes of an old man peeked out. He said nothing.
“Sha brought us here,” Barin began, stumbling over his words. Never had he asked for a place to spend the night before—not as a king, nor even a prince. Securing a night at an inn had always been done by servants, or someone else. “She said you might have a bed for us?”
The man closed the door, unlatched the chain, and opened it again, looking outside at Anna and Kandace. When the door closed again, Barin turned to Anna and shrugged.
The old man stepped out again and studied the three of them, a long pout darkening his face. He had a white beard that jiggled when he exhaled and dark beady eyes shaded by long white brows. He felt his pocket for a watch and checked the time, mumbling under his breath. When he looked up again he snorted.
“Refugees?” he asked. “From the Neverworld?”
Barin straightened and glanced at Anna. What an odd thing to assume. Evidently the costumes didn’t work that well.
“Never mind.” He waved his hand and pulled a ring of keys from inside by the door. “Follow me.”
He had a limp when he walked, a stiff left leg, and he moved slowly across the yard to another entrance, unlocking the door and pushing it open. He nodded for them to enter.
Barin stepped over the threshold first, the cold metal of his sword’s hilt ready in his hand. The room had a damp, musty smell and had not been heated with a fire for some time. There were no furnishings, no bed, vanity, not even a chair.
“Wood’s around back if you need a fire,” the man said and a wry smile crossed his face, which disappeared as quickly as it came. “Breakfast is at sunup.”
Once Anna and Kandace entered the room, the door slammed shut. The rattling of keys then told Barin the man had locked them inside. His heart leapt to his throat, and he rushed to a window that had been barricaded.
“Trapped?” he said softly. “What do you know about this?” he asked Anna.
“Stop accusing me of everything that goes wrong, Barin. I don’t know the man, nor do I know what’s going on.”
“You knew Sha. She knew you.”
“She’s always been a friend,” Anna argued.
Barin snickered as he paced back to the door. “Your friends are dangerous. Where does the trapdoor go?”
She opened the closet door, and Kandace let out a cry. “It’s them. It’s the Neverworld. I can smell them.”
Barin tried breaking out the front entryway, shoving against the oaken door with his shoulder, but whatever lock the man had used remained steadfast, the wood too solid to splinter and break. He flew to the window, drew his sword, and with the hilt, he tried breaking the glass, but it too was solid and shatterproof. Barin spun around to face Anna, but before he could say a word, before he could soothe Kandace when she screamed, the closet burst open, and the foul blue vapor of the Influencers appeared in the room. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to escape or hide. Barin raised his sword to protect the three from the torturous hands that attacked them. Kandace fell first, and Anna dove to the floor and shielded her. As Barin lowered himself over them, the floor gave way, and the three tumbled into the Neverworld.