Dreams Take Flight
Princess Nenji Part 1
David D. Carroll
Published by Grendelmen Publishing
6201 S 99th Ave.
Tolleson, AZ 85353
http://www.grendelmen.com
david@grendelemen.com
Copyright 2010 David D. Carroll
All right reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Cover art by Chris Bryson
Print copies are available through Grendelmen.com
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Grendelmen.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
ISBN: 978-1-4660-6140-8
Special thanks to the following:
Christie, for believing in me
Jenn, for enduring the long nights
Cory, for inventing the name
The East Valley Writers Group, for getting me started
The Grendelmen Writers Group, for your edits
Dreams Take Flight
Princess Nenji Part 1
Prologue
Selorac watched the countryside roll past through the coach window. His mother, Queen Akeeba sat opposite him, gazing out the other window. Their brief holiday at the beach had been cut short by word Zander the Mage had returned from several years abroad on assignment with the Mage’s Council. The messenger had been quite explicit about the need to return with haste and secrecy. The message warned of a plot on the lives of the entire royal family. Selorac sighed. Wizards were always seeing Thralls around every corner.
The noise of the galloping horses drowned out the sounds of chirping birds. Five hours after the message arrived they were approaching the boundary of the kingdom. There were no walls or guards or even a sign to declare this the edge of their domain. Just a transition from prairie to forest. Yet there was comfort in being back in a land where every man woman and child obeyed his voice.
There was no reason to linger here, yet the coach slowed. They quickly came to a halt and Selorac jumped out. The cause of the delay became obvious as soon as he’d set his foot to the ground. The meadow ahead had been set ablaze. A lone man stood on the road, sword drawn. Although he did not recognize the stranger, he knew the fighting stance. As sweat began dripping down the Prince’s face, he realized the stranger showed no effects from the heat. He just glared into Selorac’s eyes.
The royal guard came running forward, taking positions in front of the prince. “Get back in the coach, Your Highness,” Grenya called out. “We can handle this.”
“Maybe he just wants to talk. Let me try.”
Grenya squinted in a face Selorac knew to mean he didn’t agree, but didn’t want to argue. Selorac stepped carefully through the line of guards. Resting one hand on his sword, he addressed the challenger. “I am Prince Selorac. You are impeding the…”
The stranger ignored the Prince’s attempts at diplomacy. His attack was swift and deadly. Selorac’s sword barely cleared the scabbard in time to parry the blow. He could feel the enormous strength behind the attacker’s blade.
Another stroke knocked the Prince’s blade aside. Selorac was able to put his weapon between himself and the attacker before the next strike hammered into him, knocking him off his feet. The royal guard swarmed in, engaging the threat while others pulled the Prince out of immediate harm.
The first guard went down, but to their credit, none of the others flinched or backed away. Selorac heard the well-known cues of finger snapping and shouts coming from the captain of the guard, guiding their timing in a well practiced, synchronized attack. Four guards thrust with their blades simultaneously, only to have the enemy parry them all with a speed beyond mortal ability. Four others swung their weapons at different heights and from different directions, which should have left no place for the stranger to retreat. The enemy’s sword moved so quickly, his blade cut through the arm of one guard, the neck of another, stopping halfway through the chest of the third while he sidestepped the fourth.
Selorac leapt to his feet as two of his best friends fell. He shouted to the driver, “Get everyone out of here! Abandon the coaches! Save the Queen!” He then ran forward to join the battle. But the Captain held him back.
“No, Sire, you must let us protect you!”
The coachman took out his blade and hacked the harness from the horses of the lead carriage.
“You need my help! This is no mortal we face! He’s too fast, and too well trained for your men. With my help we can give my family time to escape.”
The captain nodded, and they both joined the men trying to hold the man-shaped beast at bay. Four more lay dead in the time it took for their short conversation. The head coachman was making good use of his time, putting Queen Akeeba on the fastest horse. Further back on the road, another coachman was putting Selorac’s wife, Princess Wilma on a horse. Three other guards were taking the Prince’s children in other directions.
Selorac jumped into the fray, deflecting a blow aimed to decapitate his friend Grenya. The attacker scowled at the Prince, then turned to face him properly. The sound of retreating horse’s hooves gave Selorac an added measure of courage. The dark blade seemed a blur as the enemy stepped forward. Deep in his mind, the memories of his ancestors guided his arm, deflecting the blow. The stranger growled low and menacingly at his own failure. The beast came at Selorac again, but the memory of a thousand sword fights saw what mortal eyes could not, and parried death once more. Selorac’s arms brought his blade around to attack, but the enemy was too quick, even for him, breaking the Prince’s sword in half. At the same time, Grenya thrust his blade into the back of the attacker.
What should have mortally wounded any human, merely broke Grenya’s arm, the same as if he’d thrust full strength into a stone. Grenya fell backward with a cry, clutching his wounded arm.
“Run!” Selorac called out instinctively. “He’s magically protected! Protect the…”
The attacker stepped forward and thrust his blade through Selorac’s lung, cutting off his dying request. The world seemed to stand still for a moment as pain flooded his body. Galloping hooves were still audible, bringing a smile to Selorac’s face as he fell backwards. Despite the villain’s skill and speed with the blade, surely he could not outdistance horses.
The shock of large black wings appearing out of his killer’s back drained the last hope from Selorac’s dying heart.
ONE
Zander focused on the weave of magic over the rooster’s vocal chords, tying the ends off very carefully. Normally, he wouldn’t take such extra precautions, but this was a special case. This was an invitation to a test. He didn’t want a poorly crafted speech spell to be the first magic she was exposed to. Five years of service as a covert messenger had proven the bird’s ability to avoid attention from mages and kings, not to mention the dragons, or the Thralls who worshiped them.
The bird was now smarter than the average dog and a gravity spell aided his flight and speed. Every spell on the bird was crafted so well, it would be nearly impossible to infect a Hopeful. Half of these spells were already banned for use in testing a Hopeful, based on passed mages who’d lost control.
There would be plenty of people looking for magical messengers tonight, so an owl or a raven was out of the question. They would be shot down immediately. But while a flying rooster wasn’t common, most guards wouldn’t even report it. Randy had never needed the power of speech to deliver messages in the past, but this message required a little more magic than most.
Zander wanted to go immediately, but duty dictated he remain here. Also, he liked the now lapsing tradition of testing on the night of the full moon. King Greggor had already forbidden Nenji be tested. Any lesser wizard would have obeyed. However, with the authority of a Councilman, and his relationship to the family, no king could deny him the right. With the deaths of Prince Selorac and Queen Akeeba a couple days before, King Greggor had become unpredictable. Many had already died because of the prophecy Zander had spent the last five years obtaining. Only one child of the line of Lorac remained, and Zander wasn’t the only one who had hopes for her future. This wasn’t an easy time for kings or wizards and the politics of sending this message would only draw extra fire. Zander had locked himself in his lavish quarters at the castle, magically guarding against eavesdropping of all kinds. He didn’t want anyone to learn he was sending a message, let alone reveal the intended recipient. Zander gave the rooster one last look, making sure the voice spell didn’t have any loose ends. Satisfied with his work, he set about teaching the bird what to say.
* * *
Nenji sat at her desk trying to practice her handwriting. The beautiful spring day outside kept stealing her attention. She enjoyed playing out in the woods more than doing the lessons her mother insisted she complete. Perhaps if she were allowed to spend more time outdoors, her mother wouldn’t criticize her weight. Nenji knew she was overweight, but she didn’t think of herself as fat. Her mother, however, had a high standard when it came to physical appearance.
She glanced up at the calendar on the wall. The thirteenth day of the month of Glaminos, in the year of the dragon, 1628. Exactly two months till her fifteenth birthday. Five years ago today she’d found her father’s body in the woods. If he were still here, he would already be teasing her with the birthday plans. Nenji’s mother hadn’t even mentioned her impending birthday yet.
In the past month, her lessons had grown longer and stricter. Excellent wasn’t enough anymore. It had to be perfect. Nenji wondered if her mother thought extra lessons would distract her from the memory. If so, it was working in reverse with the calendar staring down at her.
Her tongue sticking out slightly, her young freckled face focused on her paper for the moment as her small hands worked the quill across the page. A movement in a nearby pine tree caught her eye. Her light brown hair flipped in front of her bright blue eyes as she turned to see a multi-colored bird resting near the top of the tree. The bird turned in her direction and she realized it was a rooster. There were a few wild roosters still in the woods, but they rarely came this close to the farm. She stared at the rooster, imagining the freedom of flying. A noise from the next room broke her attention and she turned back to the page once more.
She wrote the phrase, ‘Quickly raised the Eastern sun.’ As she started the next line, she was startled by the rooster landing on her windowsill. She tried to ignore it.
“You are Nenji!” the rooster squawked.
The shock of the animal speaking shattered her concentration. Her hand pulled the feather down the page, making a large stray mark. The tip of the quill broke, leaving a large black splatter where her remaining ten lines were supposed to go. “Not again!” she exclaimed, standing quickly. She checked her modest dress for ink stains. Thankfully, there was none.
“You have had another messenger today? You are not Nenji?” The rooster bobbed its head up and down as it asked its questions.
“You talk!”
The rooster bobbed its head up and down a few times.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what? Do what?”
“Talk! I’ve never met a talking animal before.”
“A message. Master taught me so I can deliver a message.”
“Sounds important. Maybe I should write it down?”
The rooster’s head bobbed up and down.
Taking this for a yes, Nenji went to dip the quill in ink, only to find the tip was still broken. She let out a long sigh.
“You are ready to listen? Ready to listen?”
“No, no. I just broke another quill.” She growled as she spoke, holding back a tantrum so her mother would not rush in and scare away the talking rooster. Her steps were stiff and careful as she walked over to her mother’s pristine and rarely used desk. There were no more feathers in the jar. Both hands squeezed tightly on her broken quill. The feather snapped in half, and Nenji took a few moments to breathe deeply. She tossed the useless quill on the desk before pulling herself back to her own chair and sitting down with a plop. “I have to finish this last page soon, or my mother will keep me indoors even longer. I don’t have any more feathers.” Her head fell on the page, getting an ink stain on her nose.
“Feathers I have, and a message too. Perhaps you could have one of each? One of each?” The rooster turned his tail toward her. The bright long feathers looked perfect for calligraphy.
“That’s very kind of you.” She took a feather from the offered tail, then reached into the desk for a knife. “What’s your name?”
“Name? Name... Ah, yes. A name I have, but it is not the important name. Zander my Master wishes to speak with you at the rise of the full moon on top of Tarna Hill. Can you come, can you come?”
“Zander? Where have I heard that name before?” Nenji asked herself. “Nanny told me something about a wizard named Zander sealing The Breach when her grandmother was little. Is he the same one?”
“Don’t know. Come ask. Come ask!” The rooster bobbed his head up and down, its whole body moving with the motion.
Nenji laughed. “I don’t think my mother would want me to go. My parents have been quite rude to the wizards who have come here to call since my fourteenth birthday.”
“Parents not know! Parents must not be told. Alone you must come, or the test will not be. No one can know. No one can come. Just Nenji. Nenji alone.”
“I have to come alone? But my parents never let me leave the house by myself.” She waved her arms as she spoke, knocking the ruined paper to the floor. She hated writing lines. Why her mother insisted remained a mystery to Nenji. Her mother spoke highly of her education as a Lady. As if some day she would be courting a prince or dancing at a royal ball. Who ever heard of a Lady-in-Waiting from a farm on the edge of the kingdom? She was as far from the castle as she could get and still be inside the borders of Puji. Something inside her whispered that if she didn’t go, she’d be like the paper on the floor. Unfinished, useless. She left it there.
The rooster bobbed its head up and down faster.
She didn’t want to waste her life writing papers or ‘learning her place’. She knew her place. She wasn’t anyone special, just the daughter of a landowner, far from the castle. But a wizard. That was someone. Just to meet one would give her enough adventure to last a year. Her parents had been complaining about the wizards who started coming by in the last twelve months. She never got to meet them.
“I’ll find a way to come alone,” she told the bird. She stuck her tongue out a bit as she contemplated how to escape from this prison called a farm.
“Full moon. Tarna Hill. Alone. Master says so.” The rooster was waiting for something, but she wasn’t sure what.
“Thank you for the feather,” she said uncertainly, waving it a bit.
The rooster, satisfied at last, turned and flew away.
When he’d disappeared into the trees, Nenji took the knife and started sharpening the feather. She got a bit careless and jabbed herself with the quill, drawing a small drop of blood. Instinctively, she stuck the finger in her mouth to keep the blood from dripping.
Satisfied the feather was sharp enough, she dipped the fresh quill in ink, took a fresh piece of paper and began writing, ‘Quickly raised the Eastern sun.’ Line after line.
Her mother came in to check on her half an hour later. Nenji was writing the last line as she came into the room. Tetva stood behind her while she formed the last few words. “Very good, Nenji. You may go play.”
Nenji turned to face her mother with a big smile. “Yay!”
“My dear little child, what have you done to your nose?”
Nenji’s smile vanished as she touched her nose, trying to feel what she was being scolded for. There was nothing there.
“How am I ever going to make a proper Lady out of you? Go get Nanny to scrub off that ink.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Nenji nodded. Without another word, she bolted from the room before her mother could find more to criticize.
It didn’t take long to find Nanny. Her aging frame was bent over the washbasin, clad in the traditional dull garb of a common house servant. She’d been with the family since Nenji’s father was little. She carried her weight better than most of the servants here. Despite her age, Nanny’s hair remained a vibrant red. She was washing the dress Nenji had gotten so very dirty the day before. “Nanny, I’ve finished my lines.”
Nanny looked up with a smile that broke out into a short chuckle. She pulled a rag from the washbasin and rubbed Nenji’s nose. “I see you saved the final mark for your face. At least this time your clothes seemed to fare better than the rest of you.”
“Come on, let’s go!” Nenji pleaded when Nanny gave up on the stubborn spot.
“And where are we going today?”
Nenji whispered in Nanny’s ear, “Branson agreed to train me.”
Nanny’s eyes went wide. “I still don’t understand why you want to learn the sword so badly.”
* * *
That night she lay in bed, staring out the window at the stars. The slight crescent moon had set a few hours before, shortly after the sun. It would be a couple of weeks before she could meet the wizard. That should give her enough time to figure out how to escape undetected. Sleep eventually quieted her thoughts and brought dreams of flying back with the rooster to see Zander.
For the next several days, Nenji couldn’t stop thinking about meeting an actual wizard. Why would he want to see her? She had to find a way to get into the woods without her usual chaperone of Nanny or a house guard. Each night that went by it was harder and harder to fall asleep as she pondered what kind of magic he could show her. When she did sleep, she dreamed of soaring through the clouds, free as a bird.
Each day she ate less and less. On Kronday, she wasn’t hungry for her usual mid-morning and mid-afternoon snacks. By Venday night, she just couldn’t take a single bite of dinner. She tried not to draw attention to herself, but Tetva noticed her lack of appetite.
“Nenji, dear,” she said ten minutes into dinner, “I know you’ve been watching your weight, but you really must eat SOMEthing.”
“But I’m just not hungry today.”
“You said the same yesterday. Have you been sneaking sweets?” her stepfather Natsinew asked.
“No.” As Nenji said it, she realized she’d stopped being hungry between meals. She’d even stopped sneaking snacks.
“You don’t sound very convincing,” Tetva commented. “You will sit there until all the adults have finished, or until your plate is empty.” Nenji was the last to leave the table and her untouched dinner.
Two days later, on the night of the quarter moon, she was following Nanny home from another training session with Branson. He said she had her father’s gift, whatever that meant. Her mind wasn’t on her lessons, but on how to escape without an escort. Each idea seemed less believable than the last, but she remained confident she could figure it out. Her thoughts drifted off into what kinds of things the wizard could teach her and why he had chosen her. She was so happy, she felt like she was walking on air. The stars seemed closer than they ever had before. A bird flew past her. She watched as it dove and swerved between the branches of the trees. It wasn’t until the bird flew down far enough that she realized she was looking down on a flying bird!
Her heart started racing as she took in what was happening. She was at least thirty feet off the ground, with nothing holding her up! She tried taking a step forward and started to fall. She screamed as the ground came rushing up to meet her. Not knowing why, she closed her eyes, stretched her arms out, willing herself to stop falling. Her ears told her the wind wasn’t rushing past anymore.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. The ground was less than a foot away. She was so relieved she collapsed. Blackness took her before she hit the forest floor.
TWO
Nenji awoke the next day feeling like she’d lost a wrestling match with a pig. She found herself in her own bed, but unsure how she got there. A vase on her nightstand contained wildflowers, filling the room with a beautiful aroma. The height of the sun in her window told her it was well into mid-morning. She threw back the sheets, calling for Nanny.
Her kind face appeared around the corner almost immediately. “Good, you’re finally up. Your mother’s very worried about you, Nenji. She wants to know what happened out in the woods last night.”
“So do I,” Nenji replied.
“Your bath is warm and waiting. I suggest you come up with something to tell your mother and father about what happened, or she’ll restrict you to the house for a month.”
Nenji followed Nanny to the bath with her mind full of questions. What did happen last night? At first, all she could remember was falling.
She removed her nightgown and gazed at herself in the mirror for a moment. Her womanhood was just beginning to show. She was tall for her age, but still short for a woman. Fifteen was the age she was supposed to be allowed to date, but there were no boys her age for a hundred miles. She let her gaze drop to the floor.
The image of staring down at the ground just before passing out popped into her mind. She stepped into the tub in such a daze the warm water was a shock to her skin. She shuddered and stepped back.
“Do you feel ill, Nenji?” Nanny asked.
“Hmmm? Oh, no. I’m fine. Just preoccupied. That’s all.”
The older woman seemed to look right through her. Nanny could always tell when Nenji was lying.
A bird settled on the high window and began singing. Nenji was washing behind her ears when the memory of last night came back as clear as the sky was blue. The bird. She had been looking down on a flying bird! Either she had flown, or it was the most vivid dream she’d ever had. She had to know which and she had to know now.
Nenji rinsed off quickly and got dressed without calling for Nanny. She ran out the door and into the woods. She could hear the guards calling to her from the garden as she ran into the trees. She took two long steps and jumped. She stretched out her arms and willed herself to fly. Her next step was on air. Then another and another. The thrill of flying pulsed through her entire body, giving her a sense of euphoria she’d never felt before. She shot upward faster than she expected quickly turning the euphoria to panic. It was all she could do to grab a tree branch high up on an oak as three of the house guards went running past. She heard the guards calling out her name. She wanted to cry out for help, but didn’t want to explain how she got so high in the tree. Slowly, she pulled herself inward, toward the center of the oak, where there were thicker branches and more safety. A few birds chirped angrily at her for invading their tree.
She wrapped her arms as far as she could around the trunk of the tree, feeling the rough bark press into her delicate skin. The texture helped to soothe her and settle her pulse. She took several deep breaths. The smell of sap and fresh leaves in the heat of the day filled her nostrils, helping calm the frenzy. She slowly turned her head and looked down. The height made her a bit dizzy.
“Alright, Nenji,” she told herself, “it’s now or never. You’ve got to do this.”
She took two more deep breaths, pushing the fear deep inside. Her grip relaxed slowly, and she took a tentative step away from the trunk. One hand remained on the rough bark to steady herself. Another couple deep breaths, and she was able to get the courage to move that hand to a sturdy branch at the height of her shoulders. Another two steps, another couple deep breaths. A little farther out and the branch she stood on started bending under her weight. Her first thought was to try flying again, but she was worried about flying off into the clouds. Her knuckles went white as she gripped the higher branch and concentrated on reducing her weight just a bit.
The branch responded by bending back into place. Her grip relaxed as she let out a long sigh of relief. A few more steps, a little more concentration, and she was halfway to the end of the branch. Each step became easier until she was a few steps from the end of the branch. There was no other branch close enough to hold onto. She took the next two steps on air, and a rush of confidence went straight to her head. A small giggle turned into a full-blown laughing fit. She wanted to try some more, but knew her mother was worried about her. Increasing her weight slightly, she let herself fall slowly and gently downward.
When Nenji’s feet touched solid ground again, she relaxed her concentration, releasing a great sigh of relief. Nanny was standing there, tapping her foot. “Well, that explains a few things.”
Nenji blushed, unable to find words to explain.
Nanny waited for a minute, but when Nenji didn’t say anything, she simply took her hand and led her back to the house.
As they cleared the forest, she heard a hunting horn sound. She walked gracefully up to the back entrance.
The guard who had sounded the horn gave her the evil eye. “Why did you run off like that? Your mother and father are worried sick.”
“Take me to them, please.” Nenji hoped she could come up with an excuse by the time they got there. Her tongue popped out half an inch between her lips. She had to explain last night and this morning without getting restrictions placed on her access to the forest.
Nanny stayed outside while the guard led her to the kitchen, where her mother was complaining to the cook about the spices in her breakfast omelet while tasting the soup for lunch. From the smell in the air, the soup was lentil and was going to be very good. When Tetva had let out enough frustrations on the cook, she turned to Nenji.
“Nenji, dear, why don’t we go into the parlor?”
“Yes, Mother,” Nenji said.
The guard returned to his post as Nenji and her mother went up the stairs into the parlor. Her mother sat in an armchair, then directed Nenji to sit on the couch. She asked a servant for some tea. He left and Natsinew came in a moment later with the tea.
“You’ve been a very busy girl lately,” Tetva said, taking a sip.
“Yes, Mother,” Nenji agreed.
“Can you tell me what happened last night in the woods?” Tetva looked down at the pattern in the china.
Nenji smiled. Her mother didn’t want to hear the truth if it was something terrible. She wanted an easy to swallow lie. Natsinew didn’t look nearly as concerned. He didn’t bother with involving himself in her life. “I was climbing a tree and I fell.”
“You know you aren’t supposed to climb trees, little Nenji.” Tetva turned the teacup around on the saucer with no apparent focus.
“I know, Mother. But there was a toad and I wanted a closer look.” Nenji stared at the teacup too. It helped keep her expression blank.
“A toad? You climbed a tree to catch a toad?” Natsinew looked from her shoulder-length hair to her very modest skirt. She returned his gaze, realizing from his stare he had a hard time imagining her climbing a tree in her dress.
“Yes.” Nenji folded her hands on her lap to prevent them from giving away the lie with their fidgeting.
“What did I tell you about leaving nature in its own home?” Tetva replied. Still she did not look up from her cup and saucer, turning the handle to the other side of the plate.
“It’s why I ran out so suddenly this morning. I found the toad was still in my pocket and I had to release it.” Nenji had to restrain a smile from leaking through the lie. She looked back at the cup.
“I see. Well, you put things back the way they should be. That’s what’s important. But you must be punished for climbing trees.” Tetva took another sip.
“Yes, Mother.” Nenji nodded. She had learned not to argue about punishment.
“Why don’t you tell me what an appropriate punishment would be?” Tetva asked. She looked up from her cup into Nenji’s eyes.
Nenji hated this part. If she chose a punishment that wasn’t enough, her mother would add to it. But if she chose one too severe, her mother would just go with it. “Since I was inconsiderate towards nature, I think I should work in the garden for a week.”
Tetva smiled. “That sounds about right. Very good, Nenji. Go see the head gardener and let him know. I’m sure he’ll be grateful for the help.”
“Of course, Mother.” Nenji got up and left. She was very pleased with herself for not getting her forest access restricted. It was still a week before her meeting with the wizard, which would be just long enough to complete her penance for crimes she didn’t commit.
She went outside to find the gardener, but Nanny found her first.
“Come with me, little one.” Nanny walked sternly towards the barn.
Nenji almost had to run to keep up. She knew Nanny was upset. Usually she saved the barn for the punishments she didn’t want Tetva to know about. The ones Nenji usually deserved, but her mother was too soft to dish out. In the short run to the barn, Nenji dismissed using the same story with Nanny. She couldn’t think of anything Nanny would believe before the barn door was closed behind her, giving them some privacy.
Nanny put the board on the door to keep people out and turned around with a huge smile on her face. “Oh, Nenji! I’m so proud of you! Tell me about the wizard who gave you the test!”
Nenji took a step back. She’d never seen Nanny like this. She almost looked like a little girl with her amused expression and sporting dimples. Something Nenji rarely saw on her Nanny. “What… You… You’re not mad at me?”
“Mad? How could I be mad at you? You passed!” Nanny ran over and gave her a great big hug.
“Passed? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb with me… I know your mother hates mages. Don’t worry, I won’t tell her. Just tell me what the wizard was like. I haven’t seen a wizard since before you were born.”
“Neither have I.”
Nanny frowned. “Come on. Give up the charade. How did he get past the guards?”
“Who?” Nenji’s eyes were wide; searching Nanny’s face for answers.
Nanny’s expression deflated. “You… haven’t been tested yet?”
“I don’t think so,” Nenji said honestly. This was not going at all like she’d expected. “I’m not even supposed to meet him for another week.”
“Meet who?”
“Zander.”
“Where did you hear that name?” Now it was Nanny’s turn to be surprised.
“From the rooster. Can you tell me what’s going on?” Nenji asked.
“I’m not sure myself,” Nanny said, staring at something off in the barn. “Tell me what you know and I’ll see what I can do to help.”
“But he said I couldn’t tell anyone,” Nenji protested.
“Perhaps, but I’m not just anyone. And I wasn’t the only one watching, either.”
Nenji’s heart raced. “Did one of the guards see me flying?”
Nanny shook her head. “No. This was more of a creature. Dark skin, short fur, like something half-way between a man and a gorilla.”
Nenji’s eyes went wide. “And he was watching me?”
“Sorry, poor choice of words. I think it was blind. More like it smelled you. The woods really aren’t safe for children.”
“Oh, him!” Nenji blurted out. “I’ve seen him before. He’s lived in the woods for years.”
“You’ve seen him before?” Nanny repeated.
Nenji nodded. “He walks on all fours, touching everything with his long fingers.”
“Yes, that sounds like the thing I saw. The Forgotten Forest has been known to erase people’s humanity. Stay out there long enough, and you’ll be nothing but a dumb animal. But you’re changing the subject. Now, you’ll tell me the whole story, or I’ll tell your mother what you were really doing in that tree.”
Nenji tucked her chin to her chest. She didn’t want to miss meeting Zander, but if she didn’t tell Nanny, she knew there was no way she’d ever be left alone again. So she told the story of the rooster flying in the window, of his strange way of talking and how she needed to meet Zander on Tarna Hill at the rise of the full moon.
“When is the next full moon?” Nanny asked when Nenji had finished.
“A week from tomorrow,” Nenji replied.
“Eight days. There must have been a dozen wizards come to call since your fourteenth birthday. How odd that Zander would wait this long. I wonder if this has something to do with your uncle.”
“Uncle Terton? What would he have to do with a wizard?”
“Nothing. I meant your uncle Selorac.”
“Who is Uncle Selorac?” Nenji asked. “How come I’ve never heard of him?”
“He was your father’s brother. When your father died, your mother swore to have nothing to do with his family, ever again.”
“Why?”
“Hurt feelings. The important thing is, we have to find a way to get you to the meeting without your mother knowing. I think I know the perfect way, my little apprentice. It’s probably best if you don’t mention your flight to anyone. Not even the wizard.”
“Why not? Isn’t magic his business?”
Nanny shook her head. “He won’t be looking for people who already have magic. He’ll be testing you for magical potential, not magical ability. It’s better if you don’t tell him, yet.”
“I don’t understand.” Nenji was so confused.
“I know you don’t, little one. But there’s so much going on right now. Just don’t tell anyone about flying for now.”
Nenji shook her head. “Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”
“Because your mother would fire me if I did that. Can you just trust me on this, little one?”
Nenji gave her a hug. “Always.”
THREE
Stickle crept slowly from the trees into the blood-strewn clearing, feeling his way along with his long hands. The coppery scent of blood drew him from his dark hole in the Forgotten Woods. He proceeded slowly, fearing a trap, but driven by need. It had been a decade since the wizard had taken everything from him, all because the man he used to be stole a necklace. The city guard had given chase. He would have escaped if the scent hound hadn’t bitten him in the leg.
While in prison his leg developed gangrene. One day the pain was too much to bear. The guards came running to see who was screaming. He didn’t even know what he was doing when he killed the prison guards. His magic acted of its own accord. But the guards were already dead. He took the keys and escaped. It was just rotten luck one of them was a friend of the king’s son.
The wizard sent to catch him didn’t care if it was an accident. Wizards don’t care about anyone but their own kind. He didn’t want to battle the wizard. He just wanted to be left alone. That was the day he died and was reborn. The explosion of their two magics crossing had destroyed his eyes, ears, and tongue, scarring his beautiful face. All because an overzealous wizard was trying to avenge a crime which was nothing more than an accident.
Adding insult to injury, the healer who found him had cut off the gangrenous leg. Unable to see, speak, walk, or even hear very well, he found new resolve as his magic gave him a way back.
Piece by piece he’d taken back what the wizard had destroyed, and now he lacked only his eyesight. The leg was the first piece he’d taken back, tearing the limb from a dying man. The tongue came next, though he should have been more selective. The body was shaped like a man, but was in fact a snake magically transformed into a soldier. This tongue had the tendency to hiss as he spoke. Perhaps he’d replace it when his revenge was complete. The ears had been more difficult. He needed more than just the flap of skin on the outside. It had taken three tries before he got it right. But he was confident enough now to try and replace his useless eyes.
His fingers and ears had become quite adept at showing him what was out there. His long fingers came across a warm body with blood pooling about the neck. The scent of recent death hung over the corpse, so Stickle moved on. It didn’t take long to find another body, this one with blood still pouring from one leg. He would be dead soon, but life still filled and emptied his lungs in a slow, jagged rhythm. Stickle felt along the entire body, checking for injuries. Fear now joined the scent of life but the man did not cry out. He kept hope inside his dying heart. That was good. Even hope, though, gave way to terror. As Stickle’s long slender fingers felt along the man’s face, the man let out a scream. No one called back. Stickle smiled. His eyes were still fully attached.
Stickle whispered to him, “Be ssstill. Deathhh comesss sssoon and none can ssstop it. What isss your name, sssir?”
“H-Harrison. Salgoud Harrison. Can you stop the bleeding?” The man’s voice was shaky.
“Where are your ssspectaclesss?”
“I don’t need spectacles. I can see just fine without them. What do you want with me?”
“Be ssstill, Sssalgoud. Poor SSstickle has no want. SSstickle only hasss need!” Stickle pressed his lips over the man’s eyes, using his magic to take what he needed. Still, Stickle could not see, but he knew what more he must do. Stickle bent over, pressed his mouth around Salgoud’s, sucking out the man’s last breath.
The body went limp as the eyes came to life. Night shadows of a forest clearing played across the newly acquired retinas. He could now see the coach laying on its side, one of the wheels snapped in half. The horses were nowhere to be seen. Stickle had taken life from this poor soul and something of him lived on. This required Stickle to change his own name to remind himself of that which he had taken. He’d killed a few witches in his day, but they didn’t deserve to live on as part of his name. What did the man say his name was? Harrison. That was it. A double R. Certainly he could take one of the R’s for himself. He didn’t ponder long before deciding his name must now be Strickle.
The newly named Strickle, with his new eyes, ran for the first time in ten years. He ran long and hard from the scene of the accident, heading back to his hole. He tripped more than once in the dim moonlight, but didn’t care. His body once more had all it needed to seek revenge on the man who took his sight, his hearing and his voice. Now he could finally hunt the one who had done him so much wrong. The name rang out in his head over and over. Zander… Zander… Zander…
FOUR
Nenji lay in bed thinking about how Nanny would get her past the guard. She heard some footsteps outside her door. “Nanny? Is that you?”
Nanny opened the door. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
Nenji sat up on her bed. “No. I can’t sleep.”
Nanny came in, taking the chair from the vanity to sit next to Nenji’s bed. “Neither could I.”
“Could you tell me a bedtime story?” Nenji asked.
“It’s been a few years since you’ve wanted to hear my stories.”
“It’s been a few years since I’ve had this much trouble sleeping,” Nenji replied.
Nanny nodded at this. “Do you remember the story of the Dragon King?”
Nenji’s eyes lit up. Nanny always told the most interesting stories about dragons. It was as if she had actually met them. “No, Nanny. I didn’t know the dragons had a king.”
“Well, once upon a time, back when the lands were all one, a mighty king named Cortiban conquered all ten kingdoms. He was a master of strategy on the battlefield and loved by those who knew him best, but hated by all the rest. There were many attempts on his life after he declared himself High King. He had only one daughter, and he knew she wasn’t strong enough to hold the kingdoms together. If he passed without a strong heir, war would rip the kingdoms apart, killing thousands. Instead, he sought a way to become immortal.”
“Immortal?” Nenji asked. “Can magic do that?”
“It took years of research and preparation, but the mages finally found a way. Ancient texts spoke of the immortals who brought them to this planet. There was enough magic left in the moon to make one man immortal. The mages cast spells for three years in preparation. They altered the course of the four inner planets so at the right moment they all formed a straight line. Then, at midnight, on the first day of spring, at the exact moment of the new moon, King Cortiban stood on his throne at the center of the capital city of Torrin at the precise center of the continent, back when all the lands were still joined.
“The mages surrounded him in three concentric circles, all weaving their magic to the same end. They totaled one thousand mages in all. When midnight came and the planets, sun and moon had aligned, the special weave activated. If someone could have watched from way up in the sky, they would have seen a ray of magical light extend from the sun through the four inner planets, focused by the Moon, and shooting through the planet Qabalah and out the other side where Cortiban stood to receive all that power.”
Nenji tried to picture the scene in her mind. She knew from her lessons the sun was hundreds of millions of miles away. One thousand mages sounded like a lot. She wasn’t sure there were that many mages in the whole world today. “How many mages are there now?”
“Not as many as there once were,” Nanny replied. “The mages cheered their success as Cortiban was lifted into the air by the magic as it transformed his body. Then the planet started to quake. The castle fell to pieces first, followed by the entire continent. That was the day the lands broke apart. All the mages were killed, as was everyone in the entire city of Torrin. The ground itself fell into the sea which boiled as a massive jet of lava shot out, gobbling up castle, city and mages alike.”
Nenji sat up in her bed. “All those people…”
Nanny smiled. “No one saw King Cortiban for several months. The lower kings assumed he was dead and had their hands full dealing with the destruction of the land being torn apart. When King Cortiban finally did return, he tried to resume his role as High King. Unfortunately, his most loyal followers died in the earthquake and volcano. One king even tried to have him arrested. That was a horrible mistake.
“King Cortiban fought the guards who tried to take him. His temper taking over, he transformed into a dragon. He was a fierce beast to be sure, covered in horns and spikes, great wings coming out of his back and his hands and feet transformed into massive paws with giant claws.”
Nenji drew the sheets closer as she shrank back against the wall. She hoped she never had to face an angry dragon.
“King Cortiban never bothered to change back into a human after that. Some people started to obey him again, but others rebelled. He became more strict and controlling as time went on and people still resisted having him as High King. He used his new powers to teach the rebellious leaders a lesson, but this only led to more and more rebellion.
“The mages who were still alive joined the rebellion. A few of them tried attacking him directly, but their magic was completely ineffective. So instead, the Council went after those who tried to exercise King Cortiban’s orders. He formed a group of dragons from his most trusted advisors, but even they weren’t enough. It was a couple hundred years before they retreated to the volcanic island formed where the city of Torrin used to be, at the center of all the lands. They named it Dragon Island.”
Nenji pictured in her mind a large island with a giant volcano in the middle, with dozens of dragons flying around or laying in the grass, or swimming in the sea. “Do they ever let humans go there? To Dragon Island?”
Nanny nodded. “There are some people who still believe Cortiban is the true king. They worship the dragons like gods.”
“I bet they have great feasts where they serve all kinds of sweets and meats and tell stories all night long,” Nenji said in a dreamy voice.
“That’s right!” Nanny agreed. “And they reward their followers with magical gifts and treasure. But if you ever make them angry…”
“They eat you alive!” Nenji said enthusiastically.
“You’ve heard this one before!” Nanny teased.
Nenji shook her head. “But if I were a dragon and someone made me mad, they’d be snack food quicker than they could sneeze.”
They both laughed. Finally, Nanny tucked Nenji into bed and she tried once more to fall asleep. Images of parties on Dragon Island drove sleep from her mind, dancing in her head until the sun rose.
FIVE
Nenji began going on long walks with Nanny in the woods after supper. At first Tetva insisted on sending a guard with them every night. Nanny quizzed her constantly on the creatures and plants of the forest. Nenji enjoyed learning the names of the plants and how to tell the difference between a robin’s song and the call of the blue jay. Despite the long evening walks, she still had trouble sleeping. Most nights she just stared up at her ceiling until the sun came up, thinking about when she could try flying again.
On the fourth night, the guard let them go out alone. On the last two nights before the full moon, they hadn’t come back until the night guard was the only one up.
The day she was supposed to meet Zander, everyone in the house was tense, and they all wore black. When she asked why, Nanny told her a distant family member had died recently, and the whole house was in mourning.
She didn’t see her mother until supper. Once more, she couldn’t force herself to eat more than a couple of bites. She still felt full from the night before, when she’d actually had an appetite for once. Nanny had stopped making her breakfast and lunch since she just couldn’t eat them.
“I hear your nanny has been teaching you the plants and sounds of the woods,” Tetva began.
“That’s right,” Nenji replied.
“I don’t approve of you spending so much time in the forest.” Tetva scowled at her soup. “It’s a dangerous place. A dozen young women died in there one year.”
“I know, Mother. I remember the story. Two of them were your nieces. Your brother abandoned the farm after that, and you felt obliged to come here a few years later to tend it.”
Tetva nodded without looking up from her supper. “I know it was many years ago, but they never did find the beast that slew those girls. It could still be there.”
“You’ve been spending lots of time in the woods lately.” Natsinew broke into the conversation. Nenji wasn’t sure he’d been paying attention. “Been chasing any more toads up trees?” Neither of Nenji’s parents looked up from their food as they spoke.
“No, sir. Nanny has been teaching me to respect the woods and its creatures.”
“I shall be sure to thank her,” Tetva said blandly.
Nenji wondered if Tetva had even spoken to Nanny in the last three months. “She’d like that,” Nenji lied.
“Be careful out there tonight,” Tetva continued. “Just last night a wagon overturned on the road, killing two full grown men.”
Nenji assured her they didn’t have to go far into the woods to find plenty of things to learn. Tetva seemed satisfied and let the matter drop.
Despite Tetva’s concerns, it was with a happy heart she walked into the woods with Nanny that night as the sun began to set. They walked far enough into the trees so they couldn’t be seen from the house before Nenji spoke. “If I have to walk, I’ll be late.”
“I understand. Run along and meet the wizard. Tell me everything when you get back.” Nanny gave her a big hug.
Nenji started running as soon as she’d escaped Nanny’s arms. Within a dozen steps her feet left the ground completely.
SIX
Gartu bent over the body of the young brown-haired woman. His fox nose told him she couldn’t have been dead more than a few hours. His fur-covered hands held his walking stick and gave him balance. The humans standing around him smelled of fear and curiosity. It was like a mix of musk and fresh cream. He tried not to wonder if their fear was from the dead body before them or from his own appearance. On top of his red fur and long tail, he also carried a sword with as much a reputation as its owner. The shield on his back didn’t show any signs of damage, despite the many battles he’d faced. He straightened up and said, “She’s been dead for a couple of hours. It won’t take long to find this killer. Standard fee.”
The mayor counted out five gold pieces and handed them to Gartu. He slipped them into his money purse and walked outside the house. The trail of guilt was still strong. It smelled worse than chicken droppings and rotten fish. The emotions he smelled were decidedly male. This was probably the culprit’s first murder.
“But how will you catch him?” a woman asked.
“Magic,” Gartu replied. He walked purposefully among the buildings of the village, following the guilt. The village looked well constructed. The houses were made of milled wood, the roofs made of thatch. He reminded himself this village was dealing with his fox features better than most. He’d been called a demon and worse. However, when there was a murder to be solved, they all knew his name and reputation. Gartu walked inside another building, sniffing the air. The air was stale with the stench of guilt. His tail dragged on the ground as he came back out. “He stayed here for a short while. We are almost there.”
The villagers muttered ‘Who is it?’ and ‘How does he know?’
Gartu walked to the stream, the villagers in tow. He saw a man cleaning a sword. Though the sword was spotless, the man still wet the cloth and rubbed it up and down frantically. The trail led right to him, the scent of his guilt still strong around him. Gartu had learned through years of experience not to flinch at the horrible stench the guilty gave off. Still, his tail drooped when he smelled strong negative emotions. Sometimes the scent was weak, and sometimes overpowering. Gartu was able to stomach the smell long enough to get his job done. He pointed, calling out, “There he is. That’s the man.”
The villagers rushed forward, grabbing the man and ignoring his protests.
The mayor made his way through the crowd. “Seekater, the Magic Man has accused you of murder. Marta was found dead a few hours ago and we find you here, cleaning your sword. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I did no such thing! You can’t prove that I did!”
Gartu stepped forward. “My sword will give us all the proof we need. Only justice will remain.” Gartu pulled out his sword and pressed the flat side against the man’s neck. The man’s guilt was so near the surface, only a slight shock from the sword was needed. Gartu channeled the familiar spell in his mind. A small flash of light collected at the hilt, then raced down the blade into the man’s neck. The man cried out as if stung.
“May your guilt now be revealed,” Gartu commanded.
“I killed her,” Seekater whispered. “She refused me.”
“Speak so the entire village can hear,” Gartu growled.
He pulled against those holding him. Suddenly his eyes rolled back, his body went limp and he screamed, “I killed her! I loved her, but she refused me! If I can’t have her, no one can!”
Strength returned to his limbs and he broke free of those holding him. He bent over, screaming again. The stench increased in Gartu’s nose, as if he’d just opened the lid hiding something rotten. Gartu flinched, but resisted the urge to cover his nose.
“I killed her! I can see her blood still on my hands! I must get rid of the blood!” He ran to the stream and started washing himself. Grabbing sharp rocks, he scrubbed himself vigorously. “The blood! I can’t get the blood off!” He rubbed harder, the rocks cutting into his skin and soon there actually was blood. This only heightened his efforts to clean himself. He tore off his shirt and rubbed harder.
An older woman ran forward, crying, “Seekater! No!”
Gartu held her back. “You can’t help him now.” He’d seen people try to stop the magic in the past. It wasn’t pleasant to watch.
“But he’s my son! Please, he’s killing himself. Please, Magic Man, don’t kill my son!”
Gartu reaffirmed his grip on the woman. “I’m truly sorry, ma’am. He is gripped by the pain of his own guilt. If he believes in his heart he should die, no one can stop it now. If he begs for mercy, it will be provided.”
Turning back, Gartu watched the last few frantic efforts of Seekater to clean off the blood before he passed out and fell into the river. Some of the villagers turned away in horror as the man bled to death, turning the stream red.
Finally, the stench died out and Gartu took a deep breath of fresh air. The scent of horror was far better than that of a guilty murderer. He looked down at the blade which had taken another life. He rarely used it for combat anymore. He hadn’t been approached by a Thrall in months, and the guilty were usually too busy wrestling with their own consciences to bother fighting their fate.
The Mayor took a moment to compose himself, tearing his gaze from the scene. “How can we ever thank you, Magic Man?” the Mayor asked.
“A hot meal will suffice.” Gartu put away his sword. For him, the death of the woman was more horrible, but clearly some of the others there disagreed. This village was fairly peaceful, the kind which usually saw a murder no more than once in ten years. How odd that he should be so near when one was committed. He thought back on how his life had changed since he’d slain Targash. Since that day, he could smell people’s emotions better than he could smell his prey in the woods. Crimes always left their mark in the area. The scent of a murderer stank worse than a rotting corpse.
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