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Chapter 1
“I allowed the Fire Prince and Water Princess their
victory,” Amber mentioned over supper.
Her husband, Granite, glanced up from the knife he was polishing.
No matter how many times she told him not to bring weapons to the dinner table,
he still insisted. “Indeed?” he asked. “Just as you knew full-well that Laura
intended to banish us the moment we stepped into that chamber, five hundred
years before?”
Amber brushed his comment aside – he never appreciated the
full depths of her plots. “Indeed. My fifteen years in Klarand were at their
end, the Klaranders had tasted my power and cowered appropriately, it was time
to withdraw and prepare for the final war.”
“You’re still obsessed with that, are you?” asked Granite,
sliding the knife into his sleeve. “Why can’t you be content with the realm
we’ve been given, the task that has been asked of us.”
“A barren land peopled with the cast-off criminals from the
other islands?” asked Amber. “Perhaps such a place is good enough for you, but
I remember when we were greater than that.”
“As do I. Oh, how far you’ve fallen, Amber.” Granite stabbed
a chunk of his steak and thrust it into his mouth.
“No thanks to you and your insistence in undermining every
forward step I take. Come now, my husband, don’t deny that you do it. How many
of my prisoners have you helped escape? It is fortunate that I prepare for it
accordingly, or else where would we
be.”
“I dare say not much worse off than we are now, my dear
wife,” said Granite, staring hard at her. “After all, you tailored the Water
Princess and Fire Prince’s prison specifically for their escape. They hardly
needed my help.”
“I meant for them to escape the prison, yes, but if it
weren’t for your meddling, they wouldn’t have made it out of the city.”
“I thought you allowed them their victory.”
“I didn’t want them to gain it so easily,” Amber pointed
out. She shook her head to focus her thoughts again. “However, it is time to move
forward to better and greater horizons – Rizkaland itself shall be ours this
time – no shadows to lurk in for us this time. We shall be king and queen!”
“You, at least, shall be queen,” said Granite. “I fear I
shall always be in your shadow for the rest of our life.”
“Perhaps if you weren’t so bent on being a thorn in my side,
we could work things out,” said Amber, standing up, and slinking over to his
side. “As it is, I don’t dare let you
get any glory.” She leaned on the back of his chair, and wrapped her arms
around his neck to whisper in his ear. “Just imagine the power we would wield
if we worked together, my dear husband. No one would stand in our way.”
“And that it is precisely what I fear, my dear wife,” said
Granite, patting her hand, and then with one deft motion, he lifted her arms up
over his head and stood up. She instinctively tried to pull away, but his grip
on her wrist was too tight. “But why must things be this way? Why can’t we live
simply and not have whole worlds under our thumbs?”
“We tried it once,” Amber spat. “Look what happened,
Lintooalintae fell apart when we let them rule themselves.”
“But it plunged into misery when you assumed full control,”
said Granite. His gray eyes bored into her, deep and sad, and before she had
time to move, his other hand wrapped around her head, and his lips crushed
against hers.
She flailed. She didn’t have time for this tonight. She had
to…
He released her, and retreated, only looking back when he
reached the doorway. “I shall be in the courtyard. Do what you think you must
and let me know when we’re ready to fly to the mainland.”
“We – we won’t be flying this time,” she informed him, as
soon as she caught her breath.
He said nothing, but raised an eyebrow.
“I have another, grander plan for our arrival in Rizkaland,
but you can be sure that I’ll come get you when we’re ready to leave,” she
informed him, summoning every bit of her dignity. “Do me a favor, however, and
make sure there are none but ourselves in this castle.” Then she turned and
swept out of the room before he had a chance to say anything in reply.
After living her whole life in this terrible castle, Amber
scarcely needed to watch where she went. Instead she focused on a much more
pressing task as she walked. Fishing through her pockets, she pulled out a
black dragon scale and peered deep into its depths.
The scene began as it always did, a cheering crowd – silent
of course, for the scale’s magic was pictures, not words – as she herself stood
there, drinking in the attention. Ah, to have that cheering crowd today! Then
the sky grew dark as the people turned away from her, towards the horizon where
mysterious rider sat silhouetted against the sky, astride a richly purple
haranda. The crowd parted to allow rider and steed to pass through, cheers rose
for her benefit, not Amber’s.
They reached Amber’s stage, and the rider dismounted – a
girl, dressed in too much purple herself, no older than sixteen, for as she and
Amber circled each other, it was like looking at two sides of one mirror, save
for the colors the girls wore.
Then the struggle began, as it always did. The purple girl
launched herself at Amber, and Amber caught her, all too ready for the trick.
Amber watched on, hoping, willing herself to win, but as always, the scene
faded black before the battle ended.
“One of us will die that day,” she muttered, squeezing a
fist around the scale. “I’ve worked too long, too hard for it to be me.”
She shoved it back into her pocket as she stalked down the
halls with doubled vigor, as she hoped that fury would erode the knot of
foreboding that sat uneasily in her stomach.
She arrived in her library, the result of many, many years
of work and toil – for most of the books were of her own writing. However, it
was not the written word that demanded her attention, but the shelves of
amulets, trinkets, and other talismans that she had collected over even longer
years of patience and study.
Crossing over, she pulled a long chain of red diamonds off
of a top shelf and placed it around her neck, systematically tapping each gem
as she paced up and down the room. With each tap, the air crackled with the
energy it released. Once every gem had been tapped, she took the necklace off
and returned it to its place, and picked up a flat silver disk etched with
symbols instead. Rolling it on its edge between her hands, she left the room
and paced down more passages and halls, muttering beneath her breath.
The disk and necklace had come to her many, many years
before, but she had used them only twice before, for their magic was unnatural,
ripping and tearing at the very fabric of the worlds. It took many years of
patience and preparation to use them, especially as she was about to now – for
she wasn’t escaping into another world, but carrying this castle to another
point in this world.
Her steps carried her out to the courtyard, where Granite
was waiting for her. He said nothing, but she felt his eyes fixed on her as she
marched out to the very center of the courtyard.
“Is the castle empty?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Very good.”
She threw the disk to the ground, and the air about them
shattered. Light and sound were sucked away, leaving them in a trembling
darkness that crackled with energy. A terrible sound, more felt than heard,
trembled through her.
With a flash of light, the world shot back normal. Amber
breathed in deeply of the sweet air of Rizkaland – so much the better than the
rancid winds that blew through that island of banishment which the Rizkans
named for her. She turned to her husband.
“It is done, we are in Rizkaland at last.”
Granite nodded slowly. “So be it.”
Ignoring him, Amber strode confidently to the gate, mentally
going over the speech that she would give her new and soon adoring subjects. She
would have to allay their fears, of course, since they’d no doubt heard nasty
rumors about herself, rumors that she was to blame for the planting. But, of
course, it was only Klarand that she meant ill, for the cruel mistreatment
she’d suffered at the hands of the Ten. She had nothing but good-will for
Rizkaland itself. It was a simple matter, twisting history.
She reached into her pocket to search for the star that
would give her the strength to open the gate of her own power, since she didn’t
have servants to do it now.
“Watch your step, Silver, you stumble blindly in the dark,
thinking you see plainly, but there is a cliff right before you, and you shall
surely fall.”
“Hello to you, too, Laura,” said Amber, turning to the girl
who addressed her. “Come to tell me more of your grim predictions?”
“I would if you would listen,” said Laura, shaking her head.
“But I’m afraid that you haven’t heeded my words for over four thousand years,
and I don’t think you’ll begin now.”
“I’m no longer a child, Doorkeeper.”
“No one is beyond the need of good advice, Amber. Not even
myself.”
“So you’ve come to tell me once more that you disapprove of
the choices I make? You yourself warn to never judge!”
“Unless you are placed in a position of authority and asked
to do it.” Laura folded her arms behind her back and stared at Amber
unflinching. “I do not judge, Alphego has judged you already. I come to warn.
Turn back now. Please. Rizkaland does not need you.”
“I have been promised!”
Laura shook her head.
“Alphego sometimes gives us what we want, not because it is best, but because
we will have it no other way. You will suffer the consequences of your
decision, as will Rizkaland itself. Will you come to regret it? I cannot say.”
“You cannot say?” asked Amber. “You, Laura, who knows all
things future, cannot say?”
“Amber! There are things that I know that I cannot speak.
You march smiling towards your death saying that you live.”
“Do I die? I thought the fate of my battle was uncertain? Either
of us could win that battle, and I intend for it to be me.”
“Intentions don’t change your fate. Decisions do.” Laura
stared hard into Amber’s eyes. “And you have a decision in front of you right
now. Do you carry on as you are, do you hasten your death. Or shall you turn
back, and carry out the task that Alphego asked of you.”
“I cannot turn back now.”
“You could, but you won’t.” Laura turned away with a shake
of her head. “You’ve set your step, and nothing I can say can sway you until
you meet with the Tela Du in battle.”
Then she turned back to Amber with a hard expression. “Give me your cloth.”
“My cloth?” Amber repeated, her hand instantly reaching to
cover her heart, where she had tucked the shimmering bit of silver cloth that
had extended her life far past what was natural.
“Yes, your cloth.” Laura held out an expectant hand.
For a moment, Amber was transported back six thousand years
to her childhood when she would give the Doorkeeper anything. Without further
protest, she pulled out the cloth and placed in Laura’s hand.
Laura balled her fist around it. “I never told you the
history of this cloth, what it was meant to do.”
Amber chose not to answer, though her curiosity burned. It
wasn’t often that Laura chose to meddle with any of the magical items that
Amber had collected over the years.
“Neither did Queen Jade, did she? No, she was ashamed. These
cloths are the failure of Luna, and they tried to hide it with glory. Queen
Amorite forged them with a drop of my blood, in hopes that it would give her
and King Flint control over me, and over my powers.”
“Is that why you have such an obsession with me?”
“It’s a very small part of it, Amber.” Laura’s eyes softened
a moment, as she shook her head. “Queen Amorite failed. Instead of gaining
control of me, she put her and her husband under my own power, and trapped themselves
apart from time. Their deaths could only come at my permission, and the cloths
and my control would pass on to the ones who brought about the deaths. An
endless cycle that only I can break.”
Then, with a sharp movement, Laura ripped the cloth in half.
The sound tore painfully through Amber, and yet the cloth remained whole and
unblemished.
“I have just given the Tela
Du permission to kill you. Guard yourself Amber. You march towards your
death.”
Laura shoved the cloth back into Amber’s hand and spun
around and marched away. Amber stood still, the Doorkeeper’s words washing over
her painfully. Slowly she replaced the cloth, noting how it tingled painfully.
She turned back to see Laura speaking with Granite, but
Laura looked up and met Amber’s eye.
Laura’s eyes narrowed, and with a voice that Amber had only
heard her use twice before, she whispered, “Go.” The castle trembled with the
word’s power.
Amber turned and fled.
My first thought was, "Yay!", and then I remember that I've already read it. Even read it to the boys. But now I can point anymore to it.
ReplyDeleteYay! Though seriously Kendra, you're torchering us!
ReplyDeleteO_o Oh stars. When it started out, I was like "Ok, this is interesting . . ." but then at the end it's like "Oh wow, that just got intense."
ReplyDeleteThe suspense! This is awesome Kendra!
ReplyDeleteWow............................................................
ReplyDeleteOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!
ReplyDelete