ã€ŠTo This Kingdom Comeã€‹


 Chapter 1

    ¡°I believe in you.¡±

    Tem¡¯s words echoed in my head as I swept the Knight¡¯s Tournament course. Spriarweed lined the run, their gold willowy stalks bending in the breeze, sending a lemony fragrance into the summer air. I looked to the end of the course, where my worst fear lay: a pool.

    I cursed the urgent message that stole Templeton from participating in the course. I had counted on him being here, next to me. I could just hear the pool taunting me. It¡¯s surface barely stirred, but I knew what lay underneath.

    Suddenly I was six years old, my feet kicking in icy water, hands clawing at the surface. I sank like I was chained to a boulder. Water shoved into my airways. My lungs begged and groveled for air, but there was none.

    Then I remembered Tem reaching in and grabbing my wrist. He pulled. I sailed through the icy lake water, the surface suddenly reachable. Then my face burst into cool air, and I coughed a gallon before my lungs remembered how to breathe. Eight-year-old Tem patted my back, asking frantically if I was all right.

    I¡¯d swallowed air until my lungs stopped burning. Then I spoke the first thought that came to mind: ¡°T-tiara. Bottom of lake.¡±

    I¡¯d chucked it into the lake because I¡¯d thought Father forgot my birthday. He¡¯d ordered me to memorize a chapter of Aragonia¡¯s Trade when I wanted to go outside and play Knights and Thieves. (Later I found out he¡¯d wanted me in the study while preparations were being made in the dining hall.) Once the tiara sank under the inky surface of the lake, I¡¯d pictured Father¡¯s imminent wrath and ran cold with fear. So I made another impulse decision ¨C to throw my shoes to the grass and dive into the water. I didn¡¯t know what I was thinking. Swimming had never been my strong suit; my swimming skill equaled that of a spider in a wash basin.

    Today, my tiara sits cosy on a cushion in my room, as it had become unpractical in my training as a Knight. Surprisingly, Father did not flinch when I asked to join Knight School. He said liked to know his daughter could protect herself, and others, if need be. The restrictions placed upon me at childhood eased as I grew, even if it Father seemed to grow more distant. Everyone said they knew the Aragonian Princess would grow into her role well.

    But how could I rule a Kingdom if I was still scared senseless by water bodies? Any water body I came across looked like a black hole, ready to suck me into its fate-less depths. My legs seized up at any water¡¯s edge as if struck by Medusa¡¯s gaze, and I was forced to crawl backwards with eyes closed, taking deep breaths and trying not to pass out. Twelve years ago, I¡¯d gained a soul mate in Tem, but also a phobia of drowning, though it was a great bargain, if you ask me.

    That was why I¡¯d declared my decision to participate in the annual Knight Tournament one day in the snug royal kitchen as Tem and I helped our best friend Fabe prepare dinner (Fabe was the commis chef.) Tem had given a whoop of delight, and Fabe looked at me like I was batshit crazy. Fabe, the more practical one, clearly remembered my paralyzing fits when I came even two feet from a water body.

    ¡°You do realize there¡¯s a pool you¡¯ve got to dive into?¡± Fabe asked, his hands frozen in the dough he was kneading.

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll train. I¡¯ll do it,¡± I said, more for my sake than for Fabe¡¯s.

    Tem was all smiles, his forest-green eyes wrinkling at the edges. ¡°We¡¯ll go slow. I¡¯m so proud of you, Ash, I¡¯ll bake you dozens of macarons.¡±

    Tem had been participating in the Tournament for years now, and had just been crowned Champion last year. He loved what the Tournament represented: strength, courage, defeating all odds. I always told him he was born to guard the world. He said I would guard the world too, when I became Queen, and that thought always sent bile rushing up my throat. I was dedicated and passionate, yes, but I was also careless, non-confrontational and had a senseless fear of water. I wasn¡¯t exactly Kingdom ruler material. At least not yet; Stars knew when I would be ready.

    Today I was taking an important step towards Queenship. I was conquering my childhood phobia of water, or more specifically, drowning. Today I was diving into the depths of a pool once more.

    Tem and I practiced for weeks by diving in and out of the castle pool retrieving sandbags. At first he¡¯d sat by me as I crept towards the pool and dipped my foot into the water. I slid into the water at snail¡¯s pace, and he sat there patiently, silently egging me on.

    Finally I¡¯d gotten my body submerged except for my head. Then he¡¯d handed me a pair of goggles and asked me to watch him dive. He made it look so easy, streamlining his body and kicking down towards the pool floor like a barracuda going for prey. Watching him gave me some comfort. Over several weeks I was diving, swimming, and floating on my back. I felt free - gone were the chains of my terrific fear.

    ¡°See, I told you you could do it,¡± said Tem, pool water dripping off his grinning face.

    I wanted to throw my arms around Tem and kiss him. But of course I didn¡¯t. Instead I just beamed at him and imagined a perfect world where a romantic relationship between the Princess and Head Knight-to-be would not be a political scandal.

    Besides - what if he didn¡¯t kiss me back?

    ¡°Competitors get ready.¡±

    Next to me, my competition hopped on their heels, attention fixed on the finish line.

    Sweat trickled in tributaries down my back. I snuck a glance at today¡¯s competition: Septimus - reigning runner¡¯s-up, farmer¡¯s son, inducted into Knight school after he''d dug through the remnants of a landslide and saved a family of four; Jen - born and raised in a family of Knights, an absolutely no-nonsense type of person; and Bonnie, a castle servant before he was inducted after beating Trevain, Head Knight, at a game of chess. I knew all of them from Knight School, but we¡¯d never become very friendly. My duties as Princess of the Kingdom did not allow time for socializing after school hours.

    Jen caught my eye and grinned. ¡°Good luck, Princess Ash. Don¡¯t mind if I¡¯m too intense. I¡¯m fighting for the win.¡± I grimaced. I¡¯d watched her race through the course in the past years. Intense didn¡¯t even cut it.

    ¡°Get ready, Knights,¡± boomed the Announcer over the loud hailer, ¡°GO!¡±

    I dug my heels into the soft dirt and kicked off. The first obstacle was just a mile sprint through the faux farm. It was a mad dash, but one I¡¯d trained for. Spriarweed tickled my face and arms as I raced past. We reached the end of the farm within milliseconds of each other, our chests gently heaving, refusing to show weakness. Now for the hard part.

    I looked up at raised brick platforms that stood a few feet apart from each other. They represented Aragonia¡¯s marketplaces, buzzing hubs where citizens traded goods and services. Tem and I had practiced for this countless times, but my short legs could never carry me quickly enough. Tem hopped over them like a wild hare, while I resembled a fat farm turkey. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about speed here,¡± Tem had advised, ¡°Worry about that with the accuracy obstacles later.¡±

    I took a deep breath, steeled myself with his words, and hopped onto the first podium. I used my momentum to carry me to the next, and the next. The others sailed over the podiums like they¡¯d sprouted wings. My toes barely grazed the next podium, and I hopped to regain my balance. My heart beat into overdrive. Don''t think about falling. Ignoring the fact that my legs were trembling, I inhaled and sprung to the next podium, and the next.

    I finished a few seconds after the others, blood pumping in my ears. The others had already sprinted to the third station and nocked their arrows. This was the obstacle where we would shoot an arrow at a portrayal of the Dark Days. This year, it was a canvas of rolling thunderclouds above a burning village.

    ¡°Eighteen years ago,¡± Makerholf had told me during one of my childhood tutoring sessions, ¡°an unprecedented thing happened in the Realm of Sterne, home to thirteen Kingdoms, home of thirteen Shapers. Aragonia¡¯s Shaper left. There was no trace of her in any of the Kingdoms, even though a Realm-wide search had been launched. The only trace of her was a note that she¡¯d left the Realm for good, and was never coming back.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Weeks later, Aragonia started crumbling like a ruined tower, for there was no one to shape a new wall, or a new harvester, or repair the cracked and baked roads. Aragonians protested in the cities, demanding their houses be fixed, their appliances, machinery and tools replaced. But Aragonia had lost her Shaper, the one person Aragonians had depended on for everything. With little way of acquiring the necessary resources to maintain Aragonia ¨C our cotton industry wasn¡¯t exactly luxurious ¨C our Kingdom began to fall apart. After all, why be self-sufficient when the Shaper would provide everything?¡±

    ¡°We were wrong,¡± six-year-old me had said.

    Makerholf¡¯s lips stretched into a thin smile. ¡°Yes. Us Aragonians found we were wrong, and we got angry. Why had Cassandra abandoned us? And when the Kingdom began to fail ¨C why is the royal family so incompetent? When nothing got better, they started to ask ¨C how are we going to survive?

    ¡°There was nothing the royal family could do but hide in their castle wishing Cassandra would come back. Eventually the dear King and Queen lost their minds, and then their hearts. They passed on after doing what they thought best for the Kingdom ¨C elected your parents to the throne.¡±

    ¡°Poor King Boe and Queen Tara,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°Yes indeed.¡±

    I¡¯d been just a wee toddler during the Dark Days, but the painting brought shudders nonetheless.

    Two lanes away, Bonnie cursed loudly as his arrow misfired and hit Jen¡¯s target instead. ¡°Hit your own!¡± Jen yelled. There was a faint thwack, and Septimus¡¯ tall and lean figure sprinted off to the last obstacle. An arrow sat squarely in the middle of his target. My stomach lurched. Not wasting a second, I grabbed the bow and arrow laying on the table, nocked my arrow, aimed for the heart of the painting, and let my arrow fly. It grazed the corner of the painting and struck a tree. I winced. The image of my father, King of Aragonia, watching me from up in the stands, dismay clouding his face, crept into my mind. I shoved that aside. Grabbing another arrow, I nocked that, took in a steady stream of air, held it in, and released. This time the arrow flew towards the left edge and stuck with a satisfying thunk. I was off to the last obstacle before anyone could cry, ¡°Score!¡±

    Finally, the last obstacle was up. My worst nightmare. The lake at the end of the course sparkled as if water imps danced and taunted me, and I felt I¡¯d rather eat sand than jump in into it.

    Tem¡¯s voice echoed in my head. ¡°You¡¯re brave. I know you are.¡±

    That lake was large, larger than the indoor pool I¡¯d been practicing in. Suddenly diving into that pool seemed like child¡¯s play - it was nothing more than a few strides wide. This lake would take five minutes to swim from end to end. It didn¡¯t seem possible to dive in there and retrieve three bags.

    ¡°You won¡¯t drown. Thousands of people are watching you. Give it your best shot.¡±

    Tem was right. Surely someone would see me struggling. I was letting fear take hold of me. I should be ashamed.

    I took a deep breath and stepped towards the edge. Then, without a second thought, I dove into the water.

    Shocking cold knocked the air out of me. Icy water rushed into my airways to fill the void. I coughed, spluttered, and sank.

    Twelve years ago, I¡¯d kicked and thrashed while my life slipped from my fingers. Twelve years later I am back in a lake fighting for my life. I looked up at the surface. The sun¡¯s rays shone through the tossing waves, dancing, mocking. I was going to die today. The lake was going to claim me twelve years after it had failed.

    What did I regret most, with my death? Was it that I¡¯d failed my Kingdom, failed to fulfill my role as Princess, because I¡¯d died before I could?

    Or was it that I had never told the boy who pulled me from the lake that my heart was his, and his forever - even in my passing?

    Before I could come to a conclusion, a pair of hands reached through the light and gripped my wrist.

    I saw two faces. The first face I saw was young and female. She had black ringlets surrounding her face and the bluest eyes. The next was also young, but male. His head was capped with the silkiest golden hair, and his eyes were of gold. I was sure I¡¯d gone to the Stars.

    Then I coughed and spluttered and puked a pool of water onto the grass.

    The boy patted my back. ¡°There, there, you¡¯ll be all right.¡± He turned and cried out, ¡°She¡¯s all right!¡±

    Consciousness seeped into me, and I realized they were medics, and that I was surrounded by thousands of people. The surrounding soil turned into mud from the water that dripped from me and the water I¡¯d purged from my lungs. Shame crept into me like an army of angry fire ants. It had been impossible for me to drown, not with a team of medics stationed ten feet away. Why hadn¡¯t I seen that? Why hadn¡¯t I pushed on, like the future Princess of Aragonia was deemed to do, and completed the simple task?

    I was stupid, I was hopeless, I wasn¡¯t fit to be Queen.

    I scrambled to my feet, shoved off my wet hair that clung to my face like leeches, and started to run.

    ***

    My chamber is my sanctuary, my hiding spot. Tucked in the corner of the right wing, away from the hustle of the castle¡¯s main center, it had long been my cave. It is simply furnished, with a canopy bed, a closet, a dining set, and a vanity I hardly used. There is a cosy little reading nook by the window, and a bookshelf overflowing with books. Then there is the wooden pedestal sitting by the vanity, a velvet cushion sitting on top of it, and a silver tiara sitting on that. Occasionally I feel pride when I looked at the sleek, elegant lines, the delicate sapphire inlaid with floral designs. Most days I just feel sick. Today was one of those days.

    ¡°Ash?¡±

    Jitters ran through me, and my body couldn¡¯t decide if it was happy or terrified of facing Tem. Our training had gone miserably to naught. I¡¯d let him down.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re in there. I saw the light from your window. Please let me in?¡±

    ¡°You should be pissed,¡± I said, my voice a raspy warble. ¡°I wasted your time.¡±

    ¡°I can never get mad at you, Ash. You weren¡¯t ready, that¡¯s all.¡±

    A new voice chimed in. ¡°We understand! And we brought food.¡±

    I laughed despite myself. ¡°Is that right? What kind of food, Fabe?¡±

    ¡°Open up and see.¡±

    I sighed. I couldn¡¯t leave them stranded in the corridor. I opened the door, and they greeted me with bright smiles and two baskets laden with macarons, cheese biscuits, caesar salad and honey glazed ham. Fabe also held a bottle of home-brewed apple cider. Tem and I regularly agreed that having a commis chef as a best friend had serious perks.

    ¡°I went all out for you,¡± said Fabe, a cowlick tickling his brows, ¡°and Tem made your favorite rose macarons.¡±

    ¡°You guys kill me.¡± I almost started crying again, I clamped down on the waterworks. ¡°You know I can¡¯t say no to food.¡±

    We sat at the dining table to enjoy our little feast. Tem and Fabe were determined to avoid the topic of the Tournament, instead gossiping about how more livestock had disappeared - a cow from this family, a couple of chicks from another - and how multiple theft complaints had been filed. Things had been disappearing in Aragonia lately, and no one was sure why. A bonafide theft ring seemed to be the only explanation. It was quite a shock, since there¡¯d been barely any crime for over a decade.

    I wiped crumbs off my mouth with a napkin. ¡°How did your delivery go, Tem?¡±

    His face clouded over like in late December.

    ¡°What?¡± I panicked. ¡°What did the memo say?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t find out.¡± Tem stretched, something he always does when nervous. ¡°Trevain wasn¡¯t in his office, and I sent him a WOT message saying I¡¯d left it.¡± He shot a pleading look at Fabe.

    ¡°We were going to tell you after you felt better,¡± Fabe said.

    Tem groaned. Obviously that wasn¡¯t the kind of help he was hoping for.

    I gave Tem a hard look. ¡°Tell me.¡±

    Tem sighed. ¡°Well, there was this letter sitting on Trevain¡¯s desk. I wasn¡¯t snooping! It was wide open. Anyhow¡­¡±

    ¡°Go on,¡± I urged.

    His hazel eyes met mine, and I saw a storm brewing.

    He took a breath. ¡°We may have a new Shaper.¡±

    What followed was shocked silence. I gaped at him like a goldfish.

    ¡°I know,¡± said Fabe. ¡°I told Tem it couldn¡¯t be. We¡¯ve been Shaper-free for the past eighteen years. Why should one suddenly come now? It¡¯ll be horrid, really, especially since we¡¯re the only Kingdom thriving independently, first time in history ¨C¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know for sure,¡± Tem interrupted. ¡°Trevain rode to Callyweather to study the evidence - and meet the girl.¡±

    The girl. So this possible Shaper was female. This piece of trivia somehow seemed to secure the accuracy of this horrible rumor. I felt I could hurl.

    A beep-beep punctuated the silence, and both my and Tem¡¯s WOTs lit up. The WOT - a Wireless Official Transmitter - was used as an exclusive communications tool by Royal Council members. Right now it was red for emergency, and a little crown was displayed on its screen.

    ¡°Council meeting,¡± said Tem. ¡°Guess we¡¯ll find out if the rumors are true.¡±

    ¡°Keep me buzzed,¡± said Fabe. ¡°And good luck.¡±

    I swallowed to keep my cheese biscuits down. ¡°Oh, Fabe. I wish luck would cut it.¡± I felt sick as a bilge rat. Was it true? Had a Shaper finally come to reclaim us? What did this mean for Aragonia, for our comfortable partial-monarchy? Everything could fall into tatters, and to think all I was worried about this morning was the Tournament.

    Both Tem and Fabe responded with a hapless smile, and I was sure they were thinking the same thing.

 Chapter 2

    Most of the Royal Council had already assembled in the Conferenz Room when Tem and I arrived. A large oak-paneled room entirely lit by buzzing firefly lamps, there was not a sliver of shadow to be found in this room. I inhaled the sweet lavender scent of the room. My childhood had been spent sitting next to Father, listening to discussions about the Spriarweed economy growing ten-fold, Achilles building yet another casino in his Kingdom of Ellis, and how the Kingdom of Killi was falling to ruin and we ought to draw our troops (we hadn¡¯t.) I scribbled pads of notes while other children ran around outside playing Knights and Thieves, and despite my early childhood rebellion, I had grown to love it.

    Three men and two women were present: Bill, our spymaster, had his signature frown creasing his weather-beaten face; Ralf, our unofficial Prince, only offspring of the late King and Queen, sat with his fingers clasped on the mahogany table, his face sullen; Spriar Codesworth, named ¡°Springy¡± for her relentless energy, royal scientist and founder of Spriarweed, had tossed her snowy hair back to laugh at something her brother Barney said; Barney and Tammy, our civilian reps, were both grinning widely.

    ¡°It is not funny,¡± said Bill. ¡°The rumors could very well be true. Trust me - I have seen many inconceivable things in my line of work.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re letting paranoia take hold again, Bill,¡± Springy said. ¡°It¡¯s been eighteen years. Why now?¡±

    Bill threw his arms in despair. ¡°I don¡¯t know! Ask the villagers whispering about a girl found in a cave, surrounded by contraptions they¡¯ve never seen.¡±

    ¡°She could simply be an inventor, or someone who has traveled to the ends of the Realm.¡±

    ¡°Besides,¡± said Tammy, ¡°there was never an Initiation. Doesn¡¯t a Shaper need to be Initiated before their powers take hold?¡±

    ¡°Tammy is absolutely correct,¡± said Barney. ¡°No Initiation, no Shaper powers.¡±

    Bill raised a finger. ¡°Ah, but no Shaper has ever left the Realm until her, have they? This whole situation is unprecedented. How are we to know what¡¯s possible and what¡¯s not?¡±

    ¡°If a Shaper has indeed arrived,¡± said Ralf, ¡°I will tell her to scurry back to the Other Place where she came from.¡±

    ¡°Ralf,¡± I chided. ¡°Your best friend is a Shaper.¡± I was talking about Achilles, whom Ralf seemed to have forgotten was the Shaper and ruler of the Kingdom of Ellis, a glitzy gambling paradise.

    Ralf gave me a sour look, one I¡¯d become accustomed to. My childhood playmate was long gone, replaced by a bitter man who still resented my abandoning him and the polished corridors of the Castle for Tem and the grit and sweat of Knight School.

    ¡°Yes, but he¡¯s not our Shaper.¡±

    ¡°Enough talk about Shapers!¡± cried Barney, waving his hands in the air. ¡°I¡¯m starting to feel queasy.¡±

    ¡°Are you discussing the agenda of this meeting?¡± Keenan swept his midnight-blue Caval aside and sat down beside me. I started; I hadn¡¯t noticed him entering the room. He caught my gaze and smiled. I returned the smile of my tutor of five years. The gold hoop in his ear lobes winked in the lamp light, and his skin glowed in a pearly sheen, the result of him hardly leaving the library.

    ¡°I thought it would perhaps be about the drought, and if the Spriarweed farms suffering for it,¡± he said coolly.

    Springy grinned. ¡°Not Spriarweed. Way too stubborn. Remember how our cotton fields withered and Spriarweed stood golden among them?¡±

    ¡°They are as obstinate as the person after whom they were named,¡± said Tem. He laughed as he received a fist in the shoulder.

    Then Keenan looked at me with sorry eyes and said softly, ¡°You did great at the Tournament, Ash.¡± The room quietened. It seemed the council had been watching, but opted not to speak of it.

    I had opened my mouth to reply when the doors swung open and the King¡¯s heavy footsteps echoed on the marble floor. A hush fell upon the room; Father had that effect on people, even the most battle-hardened Bill. Father¡¯s face was taut, his shoulders sagged. That hinted nothing of his mood. He always looked strong yet exhausted. Makerholf, who followed behind Father, wore a more telling expression. His wizened face was more furrowed than usual, and the usual sparkle in his eyes was nonexistent. They each took their seats. Father exchanged a grave look with Bill, who lost all the color from his face. Makerholf met my gaze and gave me a weary smile. I didn¡¯t know if he was thinking of my sorry performance at the Tournament, or if it was something worse.

    ¡°Hit us,¡± said Barney. ¡°What¡¯s the bad news?¡±

    Father inhaled before speaking. ¡°Cassandra¡¯s daughter is here.¡± Confused silence. ¡°She is our new Shaper.¡±

    For a moment the fireflies were all I could hear, buzzing in their relaxed life of feeding, mating and dying. Suddenly I didn¡¯t care if I¡¯d made a scene in a pool in front of Aragonians. That seemed as insignificant as a speck of dust on the street.

    Bill erupted in an angry outburst, ¡°But there was no Initiation! Shapers don¡¯t become Shapers until after their Initiation.¡±

    ¡°She has proven her power to shape things, Spymaster,¡± said Father. ¡°It appears an Initiation was not needed.¡±

    Across the table, Ralf muttered a curse. Tem and I exchanged resigned looks. The rumors were true. A Shaper had indeed arrived. Stars bless us all. This was big. Huge. How would Aragonia, the only Kingdom that prides herself of being Shaper-free (while harboring a steady distaste for Shapers) deal with their spanking new one?

    ¡°She will not assume the traditional role of Shaper in the Realm,¡± continued my father. ¡°Instead, she will follow our rules. She will still receive a seat at the Royal Council, yes - that is non-negotiable - but she will make no decisions, nor will she be granted the will to Shape anything she pleases. The Knights will keep her under close surveillance to ensure she complies, as well as for her personal safety.¡±

    ¡°For good reason,¡± said Bill snarkily. ¡°I know of a few men who still hold grudges against her mother.¡±

    ¡°We have to help her assimilate,¡± said Barney. ¡°She can¡¯t be living in her own bubble if she is to be accepted.¡±

    ¡°Who said anything about acceptance?¡± said Ralf bitterly.

    ¡°Give her a chance, Ralf,¡± said Tammy. ¡°We haven¡¯t even met her yet.¡±

    ¡°Trevain and the Dragon Squadron are escorting her to us as we speak,¡± said Makerholf. ¡°I assure you, she is very pleasant.¡±

    ¡°If Makerholf thinks she¡¯s nice,¡± said Springy, coiling a strand of silver hair around her finger, ¡°I cannot argue.¡±

    ¡°You flatter me, Spriar.¡±

    Just then, my ears picked up a marching rhythm. It was fast approaching. Thump, thump, thump.

    ¡°They¡¯re here,¡± said my father. He said it in a tone that might as well have said, Brace yourselves.

    Feeling very self-conscious all of a sudden, I checked that my white chin-high, bulletproof collar was straight, slid my fingers over the metallic rose trimming, and wondered how this was going to unfurl.

    Everyone in the room held their breath while the doors swung open.

    Fifteen Knights flooded the room in two lines. Each of them was clad in full armor, their Dragon insignia emblazoned on their chests. In the middle of the assembly I saw a shock of frizzy red hair, like dancing flames. The Knights fanned across the room, and the last to enter shut the door. Two of them stood by the entrance, their hands resting on the hilt of their swords. Trevain, his helmet off so I could see his worn, handsome face and rusty goatee, stood by a girl about my age with the fiery hair, clad in what I¡¯d read in my studies of the Other Place were known as a T-shirt and jeans.

    ¡°Dear Council,¡± said Trevain, ¡°May I present to you ¨C Marylea, our new Shaper.¡±

    There was a low hiss from both Bill and Ralf. Barney, on the other hand, cracked a smile and said, ¡°She looks just like her mother.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Marylea, looking slightly startled.

    ¡°How is Cassandra, by the way?¡± chirped Tammy. ¡°Is she doing well?¡±

    ¡°We do not care how she is doing,¡± growled Bill. ¡°She left us for dead, so she¡¯s dead to us.¡±

    ¡°Bill, don¡¯t be rude.¡± My father¡¯s voice reverberated in the still room. He nodded at Marylea. ¡°Please pardon our Spymaster. You may answer the question.¡±

    Marylea swallowed. ¡°Uh ¨C Mama is doing well. She¡¯s in Dubai for an architect¡¯s conference.¡±

    Ah. I¡¯d heard Cassandra was a brilliant architect, and that we had her to thank for our castle, grander than any other Kingdom¡¯s ¨C a long stretch for a Kingdom whose main economy used to be cotton. She¡¯d designed our villages, shophouses, and marketplaces, drawing tourists from throughout the Realm with our unique Aragonian charm.

    Running through the facts in my head made it easier for me to deal with the spanking-new Shaper who stood before us.

    ¡°Good to hear,¡± said Tammy. ¡°I was only a teen when she left, but I do remember she had a beautiful smile.¡±

    Ralf rolled his eyes.

    ¡°Please, have a seat,¡± said Father. ¡°Polonius, pull up a chair for Marylea, will you please? She¡¯ll sit by Trevain.¡±

    The Knight standing by Father saluted and went to grab a chair from the back of the room.

    All eyes were fixed on Marylea, who shifted uncomfortably, as Polonius slotted a chair in between Trevain¡¯s and Tem¡¯s. A part of me felt embarrassed for her; the other half struggled with processing the frantic thoughts running through my mind. Marylea sat and tucked her boisterous hair behind her ears.

    My gaze locked with Tem¡¯s, and I saw the same questions reflected in his eyes. Was this girl aware she could shape cannons, missiles, and machine guns, and if played correctly, rule this Kingdom in a heartbeat? That the only reason she wasn¡¯t on a ship bound for Ellis¡¯ dungeons was we trusted her mother wouldn¡¯t raise a monster?

    I guessed the more pressing question was: what will she do with Aragonia?

    It felt like ages before we were done playing musical chairs. After Trevain was settled next to Marylea, he looked around at his fellow members of the Royal Council, and explained.

    ¡°Marylea arrived a week ago in Callyweather, where she found lodging while her host notified us of her arrival. After close discussion with myself, King Dimitri and Makerholf, we have offered her boarding in the old Shaper Wing, where she will live during her time with us.¡±

    The Council¡¯s reaction was varied to say the least.

    Bill, of course, responded with outrage, ¡°And where was I in this discussion, Trevain?¡±

    ¡°The Shaper Wing¡¯s nice,¡± said Tammy. ¡°You¡¯ll like it there.¡±

    ¡°You have the brightest hair,¡± said Springy, probably concocting experiments in her mind that she could do with a hair of that pigment.

    ¡°Are Bill and I the only smart ones in here?¡± asked Ralf. ¡°She is dangerous.¡±

    ¡°She is safe,¡± said Trevain. ¡°We can trust her. She is, after all, Cassandra¡¯s daughter.¡±

    ¡°Cassandra, who betrayed us.¡±

    ¡°Silence, Ralf,¡± said my father. ¡°One more word and we will no longer welcome you in this discussion.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a witch, then,¡± Ralf pushed on. ¡°A witch who has beguiled all of you with her charms.¡±

    ¡°I mean no harm,¡± said Marylea. Her voice pierced the outcry and brought a momentary pause to the room. ¡°Really, I don¡¯t. I woke up the night of my eighteenth birthday and found myself in this new world. Only when I brought stuff home in my pockets did I realize this was real.¡±

    ¡°Of course it¡¯s real,¡± snapped Ralf. ¡°How do you know your Other Place is not a dream?¡± Father gave him a cold stare, and he held his tongue.

    ¡°I have my reasons to trust her,¡± reinforced Trevain.

    ¡°And your reasons would be?¡± asked Bill. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I find it difficult to base my trust on your intuition, accurate as you claim it to be.¡±

    Trevain looked at my father, who in response said, ¡°We will disclose more information at another time.¡±

    I felt a surge of curiosity over my fear. What did they feel was worth concealing from the Royal Council?

    Ralf threw his hands in the air. ¡°More secrets! Stars forbid we harbor secrets from each other.¡±

    ¡°Ralf,¡± said Makerholf sternly. Prince Ralf rapped his fingers on the table.

    Keenan shifted in his seat next to me. ¡°How much does she know?¡±

    His question was the big one floating in everyone¡¯s minds. We¡¯d been too afraid to voice it for fear of the answer.

    ¡°She figured most of it out herself,¡± said Trevain. ¡°The villagers found her in a cave with a canopy bed, sofa and a closet, and also, a television, laptop, and radio - from which she learnt that Other Place devices fail to work in the Realm. I filled her in on the other details.¡±

    ¡°I know I can make things,¡± quipped Marylea. She touched a golden locket hanging around her neck. ¡°This is a replica of the one I have back home.¡± She stood and straightened her shirt. ¡°I also made this shirt. All I had to wear when I got here was a nightie.¡± She grinned, but it died under the Council¡¯s stares.

    Prince Ralf scoffed. ¡°Pretend to be innocent. Make us all think you¡¯re such a doll. Pop on over and start playing wizard, why don¡¯t you?¡±

    Marylea¡¯s face hardened. ¡°If I wanted to wreak havoc, I would¡¯ve done it by now.¡±

    Everyone sat in charged silence. Then Barney broke it saying cheerfully, ¡°Shall we discuss how we¡¯re going to tell the people?¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± said Tammy. ¡°There is a chance the people might riot. It¡¯s been eighteen years since the Abandonment, the Kingdom is prospering, and then poof! A Shaper appears out of nowhere. They¡¯re not going to like it.¡±

    Marylea looked hurt. ¡°I could lay low for awhile.¡±

    Bill narrowed his eyes. ¡°She¡¯s being too cooperative.¡±

    Keenan spoke. ¡°Perhaps I could interview her for the Aragonian Times. Cast her in a good light.¡±

    ¡°I say we hide her for a bit,¡± said Bill. ¡°At least until we know more.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why no one is suggesting banishment,¡± said Prince Ralf sourly.

    ¡°Ralf,¡± I said in a hard voice, ¡°Stop.¡±

    Prince Ralf gave me an ugly look, letting me know that my words were an act of brutal betrayal. He would not be speaking to me for weeks. It was hard to get mad at him - Cassandra¡¯s Abandonment had indirectly caused his parents death, after all.

    ¡°Now, now,¡± said Makerholf. ¡°Things haven¡¯t gotten that far yet.¡±

    Marylea sat up, rapt with attention. ¡°Banishment?¡¯¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not banishing anybody,¡± said Trevain.

    ¡°Banishment?¡± Marylea insisted.

    Trevain sighed. ¡°Shaper abilities don¡¯t work outside of their own Kingdom. So if a Shaper goes rogue, he or she may be sent to other Kingdoms to be imprisoned. Kept out of trouble. But don¡¯t worry ¨C ¡±

    ¡°Remember that, Marylea,¡± said Ralf, spitting out her name like it was poison.

    ¡°We¡¯re not doing any of that,¡± said Trevain firmly.

    Marylea narrowed her eyes at Ralf like he was a wriggling parasitic worm.

    In a brash attempt to ease the tension, I blurted, ¡°You know what? Perhaps we could host a ball to introduce her.¡± I promptly gave myself a mental slap to the face.

    To my dismay, Tammy jumped on the idea like a raccoon on an open trash can. ¡°Hey, you know what? That sounds great! What better way to introduce our new Shaper than at a fun ball?¡± She grinned like Harvest Festival had come early. ¡°I love it.¡±

    Springy beamed. ¡°I couldn¡¯t agree more. That¡¯s a great idea, Ash.¡±

    Bill was not amused. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure. Marylea is a ticking time bomb, and besides, the civilians might riot and attack. It¡¯s a security nightmare.¡±

    ¡°That is a possibility,¡± said Makerholf. ¡°We will have Dragon squadron guard her wherever she goes.¡±

    ¡°She needs a friend,¡± added Tammy. Her eyes were vibrant, as if she had an idea sparking in her mind. Which she did. ¡°Someone to guide her into this strange, new world. Someone who is Marylea¡¯s age, someone who can connect with her.¡±

    Someone Marylea¡¯s age? A spark fired in my chest. Maybe this was my chance. Maybe...

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± I said.

    All eyes turned to me.

    I snuck a glance at Father. His face was blank as usual - but was that doubt I saw?

    That was when Tem jumped in. ¡°I¡¯ll help,¡± he said. ¡°An extra blade and pair of eyes is always preferable.¡±

    Affection erupted in me like a hot spring geyser. If anyone was always going to have my back, it was Tem.

    Marylea smiled. ¡°I¡¯d love to have guidance.¡±

    Makerholf looked at me and said gently, ¡°I think Ashling and Templeton would be perfect.¡±

    There was a murmur of agreement.

    ¡°All right,¡± Father finally said. ¡°All in consent?¡±

    All hands rose, except Prince Ralf¡¯s, whose face was grim. I¡¯ll admit I was hurt, but not surprised.

    It was then that I realized my hands were shaking, and I clasped them tightly under the table. I swept the room with the sincerest gaze I could muster. ¡°Thank you, everyone. I appreciate your confidence.¡±

    My father nodded, his lips a thin line. He gave me an indiscernible stare. Eighteen years in this world as his daughter, and yet I still couldn¡¯t read his feelings, if he had any. People said my mother had taken his soul with her when she¡¯d left our world to join the Stars in the heavens. I wouldn¡¯t know; I¡¯d never seen his soul.

    Marylea bounced to her feet and reached across the table with her right hand sticking out at me. ¡°Hello, it¡¯s nice to meet you,¡± she said, a grin stretched across her face.

    I shook her hand with some force, as I¡¯d been taught it displays confidence; I wasn¡¯t sure if my expression betrayed my anxiety. Marylea then went on to shake Tem¡¯s hand. He wiped his hand discreetly on his pants while she wasn¡¯t looking.

    ¡°So,¡± said Marylea, clapping her hands together. ¡°When¡¯s this ball?¡±

    Oh Stars, I thought, wisps of ice curling around my spine. Trevain had better be right about her not being crazy.

 Chapter 3

    White, fluffy meringue frothed in the mixing bowl like fresh snow. I cursed my big mouth for saying electric mixers were for ninnies. Now I was stuck with hand-mixing the thing.

    ¡°What happened to the caterer again?¡± asked Tem, who was mixing food coloring into gel. ¡°And who the trout suggested macarons for dessert?¡±

    ¡°I really appreciate your help, guys.¡± Fabe piped perfect circles onto the baking tray. ¡°Love how you¡¯re not griping about it.¡±

    Tem yelped as he added a drop too much to the mixture. ¡°I just don¡¯t understand why we couldn¡¯t serve chocolate chip cookies,¡± he said.

    ¡°So what about the missing caterer, eh?¡± I asked. ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem like Barney and Tammy to hire someone unreliable.¡±

    ¡°No one knows where she went. Disappeared.¡± Fabe rapped the tray against the counter, and tiny bubbles rose to the surface of his piped masterpieces. ¡°Her staff is dumbfounded.¡±

    A loud voice came from the stairs that led from the main hall to the kitchens. Manny, one of the kitchen helpers, strolled in. ¡°Fabe! I¡¯m glad you found help. Working two jobs must be exhausting.¡±

    Fabe¡¯s hand jerked. Pink gooey batter squirted in a pile on the cookie sheet.

    ¡°Fabe, you didn¡¯t tell us you got a second job,¡± I said.

    Fabe looked like he had a mouthful of sour candy. ¡°I have a lot of free time.¡±

    Manny¡¯s face went blank. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell them about all the money you lost?¡±

    ¡°Manny!¡± Fabe hissed.

    ¡°Yikes. Sorry, Fabe. I¡¯ll be gone now.¡± Manny scampered back up the stairs faster than Fabe could yell, ¡°Traitor!¡±

    I put the mixing bowl on the counter, crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at Fabe. ¡°Spill.¡±

    Fabe sighed. ¡°Before you jump to conclusions -¡±

    ¡°You gambled, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Fabe bit his lip. ¡°I might have.¡±

    I sighed. ¡°Fabe, you promised.¡±

    ¡°I thought it was a shoo-in,¡± he said.

    ¡°There¡¯s no such thing in gambling,¡± I snarled.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, I¡¯m sorry.¡± Fabe held his hands up like he was surrendering to an armed Knight. ¡°I promise I won¡¯t do it again.¡±

    ¡°Shame on you, Fabe,¡± said Tem quickly. Too quickly. ¡°But you¡¯re forgiven. Let¡¯s move on.¡±

    I scowled. Suspicion was creeping into my gut like poisonous snakes. ¡°What did you bet on, Fabe?¡±

    Fabe shifted his gaze to the ruined tray of macaron batter. The oozing pink liquid was slopped over the tray like cat vomit. ¡°Card games.¡±

    ¡°You know card games are restricted here. The only way to gamble in Aragonia is by betting on something. You¡¯re lying.¡±

    Fabe sighed. ¡°I placed bets in the Tournament.¡±

    It took a moment for the truth to sink in. When it did, it felt like a thousand bricks.

    ¡°Fabe¡¯s sorry, Ash,¡± said Tem. ¡°We should all move on, try and salvage those macarons -¡±

    ¡°What did you bet on?¡± I repeated.

    ¡°Ash -¡± said Tem in a warning voice.

    Fabe looked utterly defeated. ¡°I bet on your win.¡±

    Bricks melted into molten rock, searing my insides and suffocating me. I grabbed the counter as my legs folded.

    ¡°Stars, Fabe,¡± I said quietly. ¡°What in the Realm made you do that?¡±

    ¡°Forget it, Ash,¡± said Tem. ¡°You¡¯re always a winner to us.¡±

    I laughed with mirth, but had nothing to say. In the kitchen, a large pot of chicken soup boiled, and cuts of steak sizzled on the grill. The rest of the kitchen staff worked in silence, most likely eavesdropping on our conversation. After a long pause, I said softly, ¡°I¡¯m sorry you lost money.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be,¡± said Tem. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault he¡¯s a gambling addict.¡±

    A loud beep came from Tem and my WOT watches. It was a message from Makerholf, telling us to meet him at the entrance to the Shaper Wing.

    ¡°Leave, peasants, and do your duty,¡± said Fabe, rolling up his white cuffed sleeves. ¡°I¡¯ll handle this.¡±

    We wished him luck and left the kitchen. The stairs leading to the main hall were made of smoothed cement and lit by firefly lamps.

    ¡°You feeling okay?¡± asked Tem, his voice tender.

    I looked into his forest green eyes, framed by unruly chestnut hair, and smiled. ¡°What will we do with Fabe?¡±

    Tem laughed. My heart soared. I loved the sound of his laugh; it was like the sound of a gurgling river after a week in the Gongli desert. ¡°You tell me,¡± he said with a playful grin.

    ¡°Get him a girlfriend to nag him, that¡¯s what.¡± I regretted it the moment I said it. The G word was a dangerous word, and I¡¯d just pushed us into dangerous territory.

    ¡°Fabe has the heart of a five-year-old,¡± he said, grinning. ¡°But that would be nice. Then we can abdicate from our role of naggy-pants.¡±

    I forced a smile, no longer feeling light-hearted. I looked at his grin, bright as the summer sun, and shivers crept down the back of my neck. My heart ached like it was squeezed by a giant¡¯s fist.

    When the time came, which prince or chancellor shall I marry? Who will best improve Aragonia¡¯s standing?

    The hated question was ¨C when the time came, who¡¯d be the lucky girl with Tem¡¯s heart?

    ¡°Something wrong?¡± asked Tem, this time looking concerned.

    I shook my head, my brown ringlets brushing my cheek. ¡°Just nervous over this whole Shaper business, that¡¯s all.¡±

    He nodded, his lips pressed in a straight line.

    We entered the grand hall, full of castle staff scuttering around preparing for the Shaper¡¯s Welcome Ball. Tammy and Barney were busy instructing a group of stewards about the placement of the red carpet. ¡°Our civilians need to feel like royalty,¡± Tammy called. ¡°It needs to be el-perfecto.¡±

    All civilians would enter the castle on that red carpet. Before the Abandonment, this privilege had been reserved for royalty and nobility. After the Dark Days, however, the new rule was enacted to promote a tight-knit community. At least that was what Tammy and Barney hoped to achieve.

    The Shaper¡¯s Wing was located in the back of the castle, linked by the Shaper¡¯s corridor. When we arrived, we stood at the door to that corridor, hesitant.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever touched this door,¡± Tem said, stroking the polished mahogany grain.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t, either,¡± I said, noticing that his long, slender fingers were perfect as a concert pianist¡¯s.

    Tem pushed the door handle down and swung it open.

    The corridor was airy, bright and magnificent. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined both sides, offering impressive views of the royal gardens with its coffered shrubs, elegant flower beds and bubbling fountains. Sunlight reflected off the marble tiles. I was so awestruck by its beauty, I only noticed Makerholf waiting for us at the end when he gave a light cough.

    Tem exhaled. ¡°I heard Cassandra was a brilliant architect and designer. I do not doubt that.¡±

    ¡°Hurry now,¡± called Makerholf. ¡°Your disciple awaits.¡±

    We made towards Makerholf and the doors to the Shaper¡¯s quarters. The doors contrasted with the charming, idyllic design; they were metal with glowing strips running along the sides.

    ¡°Marylea is waiting inside,¡± said Makerholf. ¡°Ready?¡±

    A sudden flash of fear gripped my stomach. I straightened and drew a deep breath. ¡°Ready as I¡¯ll ever be,¡± I whispered.

    Makerholf swiped a card through the keypad on the right of the door. I wondered where that card had been since the Abandonment. Locked in a chest in Father¡¯s room, waiting for the return of Cassandra? We waited, stock still. Time froze. Then a pneumatic whoosh came from the sides of the doors, and the heavy metal slid into the walls to reveal a cavernous room.

    The first thing I noticed was a checkerboard. After my eyes had adjusted, I realized the tiles were made of stone, and water sloshed between each tile. Marylea sat on one of them, her feet swishing back and forth in the pool.

    She looked up with wide eyes and her face lit up like mid-July. ¡°Welcome!¡±

    For a moment I thought she¡¯d just had a spa day instead of being quarantined in the Shaper¡¯s Wing. Then Keenan stepped in from an archway on the right and it all became clear. He was dressed in his midnight Caval, a cloak with a high neck collar, traditionally fashioned to protect the neck from arrows. A thick leather tome rested in his arms. His eyes widened slightly when he saw us.

    ¡°Keenan, you didn¡¯t tell me I was sharing my tutor.¡±

    His lips curled and he shrugged. ¡°Your father¡¯s orders.¡±

    Marylea pushed herself to her feet and hopped off the stone tile. ¡°Keenan¡¯s been filling me in on Aragonia and the Realm¡¯s history and culture. It¡¯s all really interesting.¡±

    She dried her feet off with a fluffy towel that had lain on the floor. What she did next stunned me speechless. She skipped towards Keenan, happy as a lamb, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

    Tem chuckled. ¡°It all makes sense now.¡±

    I held a hand to my gaping mouth. ¡°Keenan! How did you manage to keep this secret all this while?¡±

    Keenan smiled so the corners of his eyes creased. ¡°We thought we¡¯d wait until the ball to go public.¡±

    ¡°But-¡± I chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s only been a week.¡±

    Marylea leaned against Keenan, her right foot raised in the air. She looked like she was living in a fairy tale. ¡°When you know it, you know it, Ash.¡±

    Watching the two gave me goosebumps. I grappled with what lay before me. Keenan, pursued by dozens but rejecting all, was suddenly smitten with Aragonia¡¯s new Shaper. Who would¡¯ve thought?

    ¡°Wow.¡± I laughed again. ¡°Congrats, love birds. Well, now we have another pair of eyes watching Marylea.¡±

    Makerholf smiled and tapped the WOT device on his left wrist. ¡°It¡¯s almost time, young ones.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, Makerholf.¡± Marylea turned to me, bright-eyed. ¡°Hey, Ash. Watch this.¡± Marylea held a hand out, and gold dust began swirling in wispy clouds. I watched, incredulous, as a blue gown appeared out of thin air. She did a little jig. ¡°I never have to shop again! Give me a second to get changed. I¡¯ll be right out.¡± She snuck another peck on Keenan¡¯s cheek and bounced through the archway.

    ¡°I see she¡¯s got that shaping thing down,¡± said Tem.

    ¡°No doubt with the help of the Kingdom scholar,¡± I added, giving Keenan a knowing glance.

    Keenan shrugged lightly and smiled.

    Tem crossed his arms and stared at Keenan like he¡¯d murdered someone. ¡°Keenan, should we be worried?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s there to worry about?¡± I asked.

    ¡°She¡¯s a good person,¡± said Keenan, slowly folding his arms around his chest.

    ¡°I¡¯m not worried for you,¡± Tem scoffed. He punched Keenan not-so-playfully in the arm. ¡°All I have to say is don¡¯t be a douche and break her heart. We don¡¯t want a rogue Shaper in the Kingdom, swinging wrecking balls at the castle because the handsome Royal Historian made her cry.¡±

    Keenan¡¯s gaze lowered to the floor tiles. ¡°Tem, you don¡¯t need to worry about that.¡±

    ¡°I should hope not, lover boy,¡± Tem said.

    I watched the conversation with barely concealed intrigue. My tutor of five years had never been in a relationship. This was going to be interesting.

    Marylea came bounding out from her room dressed in the light blue dress she had shaped. The dress¡¯ thin fabric glided in the air like snowflakes. She hooked her arm around Keenan¡¯s. ¡°Like it?¡± she asked.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Mm. You¡¯d make a great fashion designer,¡± said Keenan.

    Marylea chortled. She held out a hand and a silver tiara appeared on her palm, which she popped atop her red curls, which she¡¯d straightened into silky waves instead of dry frizz.

    ¡°You look beautiful, my dear,¡± said Makerholf. ¡°As do you, Ash.¡± He winked. ¡°Shall we go, young ones?¡±

    The walk to the ballroom was like an iced lime drink. Watching my Ice King of a tutor flirt with a bubbly lass was like watching a cat groom a mouse, an out-of-the-world experience. Tem and I walked next to each other, keeping our eyes trained on the giggling couple.

    The ballroom entrance was a regal archway lined with an ornamental gold design. We stepped on the velvet red carpet, and I couldn¡¯t feel my heart, all too aware of the thousands of Aragonians staring at us from the sunken ballroom. Marylea gave a faint gasp.

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± she whispered.

    At our feet, the red carpet split and led down two flights of curved steps into the ballroom. The vast, circular room had its perimeter lined with round tables, dressed in shimmering linen and boasting intricate floral centerpieces. A long banquet table was set in the middle. I counted thirteen chairs. That was where the Royal Council would be sitting.

    The dance floor was already abuzz with chatter. All Aragonian citizens who wished to attend were already here or mingling in the gardens, waiting for the arrival of their new Shaper. The faint aroma of fried potatoes wafted in the air, which instantly made me feel better. Fabe¡¯s mantra slipped into my head: When in doubt, fry some potatoes, and all will be okay.

    The announcer, a stout man in a bursting button-down coat, almost jumped out of his skin when he looked up from his roll of attendees and saw us approaching.

    Makerholf nodded at him. ¡°If you would please announce us, Larry.¡±

    Larry forced a wide smile on his chubby face and bowed. ¡°My pleasure.¡± Then he turned to face the crowd, a litany of ant-sized figures meandering around the dance floor. He cleared his throat, raised his trumpet, and blew a quick tune. The buzz quickly died down, and all eyes turned to us.

    The announcer read each of our names and titles, one by one. ¡°Ladies and Gentlemen of Aragonia. Ashling Dircourt, Princess; Makerholf Dunarthy, Royal Advisor; Templeton Iorwerth, Head Knight Disciple; Keenan Sterns, Royal Historian, and Marylea Stone, our new Shaper.¡±

    The Aragonian symphonic band plunged into ¡°Aragonia Fighting,¡± a grandiose victory song. Makerholf waved for us to go ahead.

    Marylea hooked her arm through Keenan¡¯s and exhaled. ¡°This is it, I guess.¡±

    Keenan patted her hand. ¡°You¡¯ll do great.¡±

    Someone lightly nudged my side. Tem offered his left arm to me, a dimple indented on his left cheek. I took it, smiling, and suppressed the quick surge of emotions so they wouldn¡¯t show on my face.

    We walked down the stairs coupled up, Makerholf ahead of us. My ensemble, composed of a breezy chiffon gown and heels, was a major threat to my traversing down the narrow steps safely. I found myself gripping Tem¡¯s arm more tightly than I cared to admit so I wouldn¡¯t cartwheel down the stairs. His arm was strong and steady. Hundreds of eyes, some curious, but most wary, followed us as we curved down the stairs. Jealous murmurs abound about Marylea pairing up with the Keenan by fans of the handsome, brooding academic. If I wasn¡¯t a raging ball of nerves I would¡¯ve chuckled at the thought.

    We followed the red carpet through the vast ballroom to the podium by the Aragonian symphony. Father was already seated in a gold ornate chair. He sat straight as a rod, his right hand on his staff, his eyes sharp on the Shaper behind me.

    King Dimitri stood as we approached the podium. We mounted the podium and stood in line facing the crowd. It was only then that I realized the balls of my feet burned in my heels like I¡¯d stepped on hot coals.

    My father stood to my right and began to speak. His voice was loud and sonorous; it bounced off the white walls and high arched ceiling to land on the ears of the masses.

    ¡°Citizens of Aragonia - today we welcome our newly arrived Shaper.¡±

    Skeptical murmurs spread across the floor.

    My father raised both hands, and the crowd quietened.

    ¡°Although she has come without notice, it is our responsibility to play a good host. I ask that every one of you put aside any displeasure still present from the Abandonment. It is a New Age. Forgive the Dark Days; they only made us stronger. From this day forward, we shall prove our strength and compassion by extending kind arms to Marylea. Eat, drink and be merry. It is our night. As your elected King, I thank you.¡±

    The crowd applauded, their faces intrigued rather than cautious now. My father smiled, wrinkles forming in charming crow¡¯s feet around the corners of his eyes. He only smiled when he was before his people.

    ¡°Now, I shall invite Marylea to say a few words.¡±

    Marylea¡¯s jaw fell, and I felt sorry for her. No one told her she had to make a speech. Keenan patted her hand, which then slid off his arm. Marylea stepped forward, swallowed hard, and smoothed the folds of her dress. She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

    The ballroom was still with dead silence.

    I took a deep but slow breath, then whispered through the corner of my mouth, ¡°People of Aragonia.¡±

    Marylea took the cue as soon as I spoke. ¡°People of Aragonia.¡±

    ¡°I cannot tell you how pleased I am to be here,¡± I continued.

    She repeated my words, enunciating every word carefully.

    ¡°I am very grateful for your hospitality. Aragonia is a beautiful place, and the people even more so.¡±

    Then Tem¡¯s hand twitched in mine, and my mind went blank. Tingling crept down my fingers to my fingertips, and I imagined sparks flying.

    Marylea waiting for my words that would not come, then coughed lightly, and picked up where I left off.

    ¡°Most importantly,¡± Marylea said, ¡°I apologize for what my mother did to you. Whatever her excuse was, it wasn¡¯t good enough for what you had to go through. I promise to live peacefully and amicably with you, and serve the Royal Council whenever they desire.¡± She bowed. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    The crowd stood in silence for a few seconds, then eased into applause. It was akin to a standing ovation for a crowd that had just been cool and apprehensive a minute ago. A smattering of people raised their glasses.

    Marylea stepped back and wrapped her arm around Keenan¡¯s. They turned to each other and exchanged tender smiles. That was when I remembered Tem¡¯s hand was still on mine. I let it stay there, and snuck a sideways glance at Tem. He stood still and stared ahead into the crowd. His chest rose and fell like steady ocean waves.

    My father stepped up to finish his speech.

    ¡°From tonight, Marylea will be one of us. I thank you for your graciousness. It pleases me to see Marylea welcomed with such warmth. Please, enjoy the ball.¡±

    More applause. I eased my hand away from Tem¡¯s to applaud with them, giving him a quick smile as I did so. I swelled with pride of being Aragonian. We were a forgiving people, and our kindness knew no bounds. That was what gave us strength.

    We filed off the podium. Marylea was smiling, her arm looped around Keenan¡¯s. Then something crazy happened: as they approached the floor, Aragonians trickled towards Marylea like moths around a lamp. Their faces wore warm grins; a few had hands outstretched for a shake.

    ¡°This is going very well, don¡¯t you think?¡± said Tem. His breath tickling the side of my neck, sending goosebumps erupting all over. His shoulder bumped mine as we got compacted in the building crowd.

    ¡°It¡¯s surreal,¡± I replied, keeping the star couple within sight. ¡°I can hardly keep my head around it.¡±

    Velamiere, the Head Chef, strode into the ballroom wearing a hat twice as tall as his head. He clapped twice, and everyone fell silent.

    ¡°Dinner is served.¡±

    No further words were necessary. Everyone streamed to their seats. Marylea and Keenan, the two inseparable, sat at the Royal Council table next to me and Tem. Marylea commented about the beautiful star-lily centerpiece, Keenan noted that they were poisonous, possibly fatal to cats, and Marylea giggled. It was like they¡¯d been dating for years. Then Marylea caught my eye, and she mouthed two words: Thank you.

    I smiled and shook my head. Sorry I conked out halfway.

    Her eyes twinkled; then Tammy, who sat on her left, commented on the exquisite glasses set across the table, and she agreed.

    The Aragonian symphony kicked into ¡°Joy of Harvest,¡± a staccatoed tune that made me want to get up and dance. Waiters streamed into the ballroom with lidded plates and set our appetizers before us. Chicken wings fried in shrimp paste; a Jin Long delicacy, served to signify our close bond.

    Marylea stared at the wing laying before her. She swept the table with a blank expression, noting the lack of silverware. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she asked meekly. ¡°Shall I use my hands?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± said Velamiere in his gruff, accented voice. ¡°What¡¯re we, cavemen?¡±

    Then he sauntered off to the end of the table to ask my father how his meal, a large grin spread across his face.

    ¡°I think he likes me,¡± whispered Marylea.

    Tem chortled. ¡°Velamiere loves everyone. I wouldn¡¯t take it personally.¡±

    We finished our five-course meal as satisfied as a pigeon with a french fry. The band ended its staccatoed symphony and swung into a popular love ballad. The cellist started singing in a low, resonant voice.

    Tem leaned in to me. He was so close his breath caressed my ears. ¡°Look, they¡¯re about to dance.¡± I shivered.

    Keenan had stood and held a hand out to Marylea, who gave a squeal. Then he led Marylea onto the dance floor, and they swayed to the music with dewy expressions on their faces. The Dragon Squadron stood discreetly by the side, their hands clasped over each other.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if Keenan is making our job easier or harder,¡± I mused.

    ¡°I¡¯d say easier,¡± Tem said. ¡°Especially with the ¡®keep her happy¡¯ part.¡±

    More couples joined them on the dance floor. I strained my neck to see over their bobbing heads. ¡°Um, now I can¡¯t - I can¡¯t see a thing with all the couples waltzing around.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s one way around it.¡± Tem held a hand out to me. His emerald eyes were deep as a wild forest. I pulled my eyes away before I got lost in them. Shove off, tingles in my belly. I¡¯m only answering the call of duty.

    ¡°Sure,¡± I said, and took his hand. A wave of sparks travelled from our touching finger tips to my shoulders, and then to the tips of my toes. I took a slow, deep breath, and the tingling ebbed. A faint buzz remained.

    I was determined to stay focused. Our waltz was awkward because we tried to stay close to the star couple, and ended up stepping on each other¡¯s feet and bumping chins. We just laughed. In all our years of friendship, Tem and I had never danced before. We never had the occasion to. Now I saw what I¡¯d been missing.

    Then, like how a child learns to ski, our bodies started moving in sync. The rest of the ballroom faded into a blur. Soon only Tem, looking all regal and beautiful, existed in my world. My body rose and fell. I rode the steady, magical flow that was Tem¡¯s energy and presence.

    ¡°Ash.¡±

    I looked up at Tem, and saw his deep eyes looking into mine.

    ¡°I just wanted to say that was a great speech you gave on the podium.¡±

    I grinned. ¡°Yes, it was quite perfect, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    We laughed, the easy, simple laugh that we always shared.

    Our eyes met. He swallowed, and his eyelids lowered to shield his emerald eyes.

    Maybe it was the soft music in the background, or the warmth of Tem¡¯s hand in mine. A surge of desire rushed from my belly to my head, and I had an overpowering urge to kiss him. I squelched it right away, but it left me suddenly tired squashing my feelings. I wanted to throw everything to abandon, throw my arms around Tem and kiss him till tomorrow. But years of training as Princess would not allow me. Yet my gaze lingered on his lips, and slivers of pleasure crept up from my belly. Wouldn¡¯t a kiss be nice? Then my Princess rationality crept in and killed the thought. No, not here, not now. Especially not in a ballroom full of Aragonians. Aragonians who looked forward to the day when their Princess would marry strong and join the Kingdom of Aragonia with another powerful Kingdom so we may all afford private airships and circumnavigate the Realm.

    Tem opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Prince Ralf, his gold hair styled like crested waves. Dread walloped me on the head when I noticed his outreached hand.

    ¡°Care for a dance?¡± he asked.

    No! Nothing will pull me away from Tem right now.

    Oh come on, said rational Ash. What reason would you have to reject Ralf?

    I glanced apologetically at Tem, whose eyes reflected my feelings. ¡°Of course, Ralf.¡± Our hands parted slowly, as if fighting a magnetic force. Then Prince Ralf had his hand on my waist, and he whisked me in the opposite direction.

    ¡°Great speech, Ash,¡± said Prince Ralf.

    I pulled my head back in surprise. ¡°Was it obvious?¡±

    ¡°Nah. Only to people who knew better.¡± He grinned to reveal a perfect row of snow-white teeth. ¡°Some ball, huh?¡±

    I nodded, glad to see he was in high spirits again. ¡°Leave it to Nani to plan a ball in a week.¡±

    He twirled me in a tight circle. ¡°So,¡± he said, when I was facing him again, ¡°You good friends with the Shaper yet?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I replied. ¡°Keenan seems to be, though.¡±

    ¡°Oh, really? I couldn¡¯t tell.¡± Prince Ralf sneered. ¡°Never thought Keenan was the type. He¡¯ll steal my lothario reputation if I¡¯m not careful.¡±

    I scoffed. ¡°Keenan is no lothario.¡±

    He smirked. ¡°Evidence shows otherwise.¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s none of our business, anyway.¡±

    Prince Ralf twirled me again.

    ¡°Okay, Ralfie, I love you and all, but will you please stop doing that?¡±

    ¡°You really need to relax,¡± he said, smirking. ¡°Have you no patience for dear ol¡¯ Ralfie anymore?¡±

    ¡°I just don¡¯t like to be spun. Makes me dizzy.¡±

    The young prince chortled. For a second I caught a glimpse of the prince I¡¯d grown up playing knights and thieves with. I had great memories romping around into the royal gardens with him, where we chased each other giggling like gremlins.

    Then he was gone, replaced by the suave royal prince with his perfect, flashy teeth and his fondness of shiny things.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I trust her yet,¡± Ralf said, holding my gaze. ¡°The people took too quickly to her, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°What can I say? She gave a great speech.¡±

    He let out a bark of laughter. ¡°Great job, Marylea. Well done.¡± His amused face grew serious. ¡°Don¡¯t you see, though? We¡¯re all sitting ducks in a barrel. She could strike at any time. And when she does, we¡¯ll all be goners.¡±

    I gave a small sigh. ¡°You¡¯re being paranoid, Ralf. She would¡¯ve struck by now if she had the intention. Besides, what can she do? Shape cannons and point them at the castle demanding Keenan¡¯s hand in marriage?¡±

    Prince Ralf raised an eyebrow. ¡°It¡¯s a possibility.¡±

    My lips curled, but I fought the smile. ¡°And do you think the Dragon knights too incompetent to protect us?¡±

    We waltzed in silence for a moment, and my back began to ache from the heavy dress weighing on my hips. Then Ralf cleared his throat lightly and said, ¡°Come. I want to show you something.¡± He led me by the hand off the dance floor and to the section of the ballroom where murals were painted on the walls. I immediately knew where this was going.

    ¡°Beautiful, aren¡¯t they?¡± he asked, looking up at the murals. We were standing before the first mural: a depiction of the Abandonment. A tall, willowy woman with fiery red hair ran from a burning castle. The sky was charcoal gray, and a large thunderhead loomed in the distance. How Cassandra had left the Realm, no one knew. No one had thought it was possible for a Shaper to leave the Realm.

    ¡°They¡¯re great works of art,¡± I said.

    ¡°And to think, behind these murals are portraits of our past Shapers.¡± Prince Ralf gave a hearty laugh. ¡°Like they deserved a spot on our wall.¡± He moved on to the next mural. This one was much more cheerful. Springy Codesworth stood in a Spriarweed field, her spry fingers harvesting the precious plant. Its jagged leaves were large, green, succulent. A ripe, orange sun rose in the horizon, beyond majestic hills and rolling meadows. It was so hard to imagine that¡¯d happened only fifteen years ago.

    ¡°Remember when Spriarweed used to be yanked from the ground at first sight because they leeched our cotton crops of nutrients?¡± Ralf asked, grinning. ¡°And now they¡¯re our main resource. Kingdoms all over the Realm are vying for our organic gold. How far Aragonia has come.¡±

    I let my Aragonian pride swell inside me. The murals were doing their job. I reached under my Caval collar to touch the white cotton undershirt that lay within. Aragonians all wore cotton undershirts, not only because they were breathable and comfy, but also because they were a treasured symbol of our humble roots.

    ¡°This,¡± said Prince Ralf, moving to the last mural, ¡°could all be ruined.¡±

    The last mural was of Aragonia, with its Spriarweed farms, crystal lakes, lush forests, and the resplendent castle perched atop a hill. Magnificent sun¡¯s rays beamed upon the land of wealth and prosperity.

    I cocked an eyebrow and shook my head. ¡°Marylea won¡¯t hurt anyone.¡±

    Prince Ralf turned away from the last mural to look at me. His sapphire eyes were severe. ¡°For the sake of this wonderful Kingdom, Ash, I hope not.¡± He gave a small bow. ¡°I shall return you to Templeton, wherever he may be.¡± Then he merged into the crowd of ballgoers, leaving me standing before the panel of murals with a mix of worry and frustration churning inside me like whisked meringue.

 Chapter 4

    Templeton was talking to a merchant, by the looks of his rotund belly and maroon coat. I tapped his right shoulder.

    "Ash. This is Boon. We were talking about the fantastic food tonight."

    "Especially the sausage rigatoni pasta. Yum yum!" gushed Boon.

    "Yes, it was. Sorry to interrupt, Tem. Could I have a moment?"

    Tem''s happy expression faded to wariness. "Sure."

    I dragged him to a deserted corner and asked urgently, "Where''s Marylea?"

    A dark cloud cast shadows over his face. "I lost her, but Keenan still has her, I think. Trout, I''m sorry. Ralf took you, and I got accosted by a merchant''s daughter. I felt awkward staying on the floor so I came to grab some food, and Boon started chatting me up..."

    I suddenly wanted to throw up. Marylea was loose in a room full of people who would''ve been happy stoning her an hour ago.

    "We need to look for Marylea," I said to Tem. Father would be appalled at the crappy job we''re doing.

    Tem scanned the ballroom, his body rigid. "Perhaps she''s still on the dance floor with Keenan somewhere."

    "Right. I''ll search the right side and you''ll search the left."

    I wove through the crowd, searching for flaming red hair and a silver tiara. I was trying to skirt around a woman in a gown the size of a hot-air balloon when I saw Keenan waving at me a distance away. He started pushing through the crowd to get to me. I changed course and made for him.

    "I''m so sorry, Ash," were Keenan''s first words. My heart hit the floor of my gut with a hard thump.

    "You lost her," I said, my throat dry as sandpaper.

    "I''m sorry. I left her at the table to get drinks, and when I got back, she was gone. The Dragon squadron lost her, too. One minute she was chatting with an old lady, and next minute she was gone."

    "This was my stupid idea to host a ball," I said, rubbing my cheeks, hot as smoldering coals. "Marylea could be anywhere by now."

    Keenan''s brow furrowed. "Don''t say that. Come, we''ll look for her together."

    "It''ll be faster if we split up."

    "It''s always easier to have two pairs of eyes."

    I shrugged. "Fine."

    We skirted the edge of the ballroom, scanning the dance floor for fiery red hair, and stood at the entrance to observe the crowd. I felt ridiculous for not being able to spot someone whose hair lit up the whole room, and was starting to picture her struggling in a burlap bag, flung over the shoulder of someone dressed in a black suit, when Keenan touched my arm and pointed at the garden doors. "Is that a line in the back gardens?"

    I traced his course of sight. The garden doors were closed, and the glass panes on the door frosted, making it hard to see through. "Let''s get a closer look," I said.

    We circled the edge of the ballroom towards the garden door. Trepidation mounted with every step. The click-clack of my heels on the marble floor tapped on my eardrums. When we finally got to the door, I rushed forward and grabbed a door handle. The brass felt cold against my damp hands.

    With a deep breath, I swung the door open. Crisp night air flooded over me, laden with the scents of roses and pine.

    "Uh oh," said Keenan.

    I blinked. My mind whirred, processing the view before me. Then feelings of dread, panic and disappointment gripped me like an iron vice, and my brain spiraled into a frantic mess.

    A line snaked from the middle of the gardens to the fountain in the far back. On the edge of the bubbling fountain sat Marylea, her vibrant red locks making her unmistakable. I watched, slack jawed, as she held a palm out. Something appeared in her palm, something small and metal. The person at the head of the line grabbed it and ran off. Then the next person in line, a tall, skinny man who towered over her, stepped up and began talking to Marylea, swinging his hands in wild gestures.

    "We need to stop this." I stepped off the platform onto the steps that led into the gardens. Keenan followed behind me, his leather boots treading lightly on the gravel path.

    "Oh look, it''s the Princess," said a young woman as I passed the long line. "Trout, we got here too late."

    I felt a flush of irritation. So they did know free handouts from the Shaper were prohibited. And yet they had formed a line as long as the Great Wall of China. Bunch of rebels.

    "Marylea, this has to stop," I called out as I got closer. "Stop this now."

    The elderly woman at the head of the line grabbed a pair of dentures from Marylea''s hands and scooted away.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Marylea looked up at me with guilt, though her face was still flushed with jubilation.

    "I''m sorry, Ash, Keenan did tell me I wasn''t allowed to do this."

    My voice hardened. "Then why did you do it?"

    "It started with one, then it snowballed into this -" She spotted Keenan coming up from behind me, and her eyes flashed with more guilt. "Keenan, I''m so sorry."

    Keenan shook his head mutely and put an arm around her shoulders. "We have to leave now, Lea. Come on." He led her away from the fountain, down the line and back to the doors to the ballroom. He looked over his shoulders at me for a brief second, and I wasn''t sure if I saw confidence or worry in his dark eyes.

    I stepped onto the rim of the fountain. The line of civilians had begun dissipating, grumbling about unfairness.

    "People of Aragonia," I said. "Marylea is being escorted back to the ballroom by our royal historian at the moment. Please be aware that accepting handouts is strictly ¨C"

    "Chill your horses, Princess," spat a gruff voice whose source I could not locate. "We were about to leave."

    I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice failed me. A hand touched my arm and my breath caught. I flinched and jerked my arm away. I looked down to find Templeton looking up at me, his expression urgent.

    "C''mon, Ash," he said quietly.

    I took his hand and got down from the fountain''s edge. Tem led me through the gardens like my personal bodyguard. I kept my chin up, refusing to crumble before them.

    When we returned to the warm and celebratory air of the ballroom, the first thing I saw was Keenan conversing with my father and Makerholf at the Royal Council table, a downtrodden Marylea next to him. The band played a lively tune, and several oblivious citizens waltzed to the music without a care in the world. I thought about the grudging civilians in the gardens, and shivered. Then I thought about what father would say, and my blood ran into ice.

    Sure enough, my father looked up, his gaze piercing me like the grim reaper''s scythe. His disappointment was clear. Then he looked down on his WOT device, keyed in a message, and my and Tem''s WOT devices beeped. The small gold crown had appeared again, with the words "Urgent" below.

    It was time to face the music at another Royal Council meeting.

    ***

    "Will the Shaper mentors please explain to me what happened at the ball tonight?" My father''s voice was low as thunder.

    He sat at the head of the table, his face stoic. I could see steam erupting from his ears. His tone of voice was enough to make an average civilian cower, but he was my father, and I had long learned to steel myself from his prowess. Instead of shivering in my boots, I straightened my back, looked at him in the eye before the curious gaze of the royal council, and said, "It was all my fault."

    "Absurd," Tem interjected. "It was my responsibility too."

    I glared at him for him to be quiet. He ignored me and went on talking. "Ash had passed the duties temporarily on to me, and I neglected those duties. It was my fault Marylea strayed off."

    Then Keenan stood, and I stared at him, all frustration giving way to confusion. What was he doing? He''d never stood up like that at meetings before.

    "The fault is mine," Keenan said. "I took Marylea from them. I was her dance partner. They hadn''t expected me to lose her."

    Marylea, who had been sitting at the other end of the table, spoke in an agitated, high-pitched voice. "Why is everyone taking the blame? If anyone should be punished, it''s me. I broke your rules even though I knew of them. I''m sorry. It just - it kills me not being able to help anyone. I tried my best to resist it, but had to help that little old lady. Trust me, I would rather give up my powers than live with the guilt of ignoring people who need help."

    "Oh please," drawled Prince Ralf. "Our citizens are well provided for. They are not for want of anything." He directed his words to the council. "Don''t tell me you''re going to buy her sob story. She committed a grave mistake. Does banishment sound like a good idea now?"

    "Enough with this talk about banishment," I hissed. "Marylea only wanted to help. It''s not like she murdered someone."

    "Ashling is right," said Makerholf. "There shall be no more talk of banishment, Prince Ralf."

    Prince Ralf crossed his arms and sat back in his chair like a sulking child.

    "It''s a disaster," said Tammy, her eyes wide and circled with eye bags. "The civilians have gotten a taste of free handouts from the Shaper. They shall always crave it, and blame it on us when they don''t get it. It''s a political disaster."

    "They need to grow up," grumbled Bill. "I would''ve thought they''d learnt the importance of independence after the Abandonment."

    "How will we rectify this situation?" asked Barney, his striped bow tie hanging limply from his collar.

    "Marylea should go away for a while," said Bill in a grave voice. "We''ll keep her out of the civilian''s reach. A few days should do it. Just until they lose their thirst for free hand outs."

    "Where?" asked Ralf. "Shall we send her on an all-expenses paid vacation on a tropical island?"

    Trevain cleared his throat and the room went still. "It is to my knowledge that the Shaper Conference is approaching," he said. "Perhaps she should attend. This takes her away from the Kingdom for a little while, and gives her the opportunity to meet other Shapers and learn more about the Realm."

    "My dear Trevain," said Springy. "Have you forgotten where the Shaper''s Conference is held?"

    A quiet realization sank into everyone present.

    "What?" demanded Prince Ralf. "So what if it''s held in Ellis?"

    Makerholf shook his head gravely. "Not the most ideal place for our fledging Shaper to visit."

    "Why not?" Marylea croaked. Her eyes were slightly puffy, but she held her head high.

    "The mentors can go with her," said Barney.

    "Really, Barney?" said Prince Ralf. "After the great job they did back at the ball?"

    "Ralf," warned my father. Prince Ralf sank back into his seat with a frown.

    "I do think they deserve another chance," said Springy. She looked at my father and said, "Don''t you?"

    Trevain answered for him. "I agree with Springy. I believe what happened today was an honest mistake. They deserve another chance. Them and Marylea." He sent a small smile my way, and I felt a burst of warmth for Tem''s uncle.

    "Who else in favor?" asked my father. "Those in favor raise your cards."

    Cards were raised around the room, save for Prince Ralf''s and Bill''s. I didn''t hold it against Bill; it was his job as spymaster to be paranoid about everything; but Prince Ralf''s lack of support stung. And in the next week I was going to have to be within close proximity of both Ralf and Achilles. It seemed as delightful as falling into a pit of vipers.

    "It''s settled, then," said my father. "Marylea shall attend the Shaper Conference on Tuesday, accompanied by Shaper mentors Ashling and Templeton. Knight escorts should be unnecessary, given the level of security at the Conference." He coughed lightly. "I would also like to appoint another mentor."

    Quiet gasps swept the room.

    "I wish to appoint Keenan as the third mentor," my father said.

    I wasn''t surprised. The two were practically joined by the hip. Who better to watch over her than her new boyfriend?

    Murmurs of support spread, and it was decided. Keenan would be the third pair of eyes. We were going to need that third pair of eyes in a place like Ellis.

 Chapter 5

    Aragonia was beautiful, with soft peaks and wispy clouds year-round, but it seemed at its most beautiful on the day we were set to depart for Ellis. I stared wistfully at the willows bending in the breeze and inhaled, filling my lungs with sweet spring scents.

    "Cheer up. Ellis ain''t so bad," said Tem. We walked side by side, behind the cooing couple in front of us.

    "Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?"

    Templeton laughed. The sight of his bright grin lifted my heart somewhat.

    Behind me, the castle grew smaller as we approached the airship docks. Our captain and crew were waiting there. We were running late, and the reason was behind us, pulling way too much luggage for one person. Prince Ralf''s blonde tresses glistened with sweat as he dragged his roller bags over the bumpy grass. He had shown up at the castle doors this morning, laden with three rolling pieces of and a surly frown.

    "I was told to fly with you guys," he said. "Note that I am as displeased as you are."

    He still hadn''t forgiven me for siding with Marylea at the council meeting.

    I cast him a sympathetic look. "Need help with those?" I asked.

    "I don''t need your help, thank you." He cast me a glare, as if he didn''t appreciate my traitorous presence.

    "Fine." We left him to trail behind us on our walk to the docks, where the Loki, our transport, was docked. We were going to take an airship across the Never-ending Ocean to the mainland, where six Kingdoms were clustered together, among them Ellis and Jin Long. The weather forecast was good, the skies clear, but I still felt like we were going to be struck by lightning or ambushed by a flock of Partridges.

    The dock loomed into view ¨C a large building that looked like a garage blown up ten times. The door was up, revealing the airship I knew so well. I took a second to reminisce the childhood trips taken to other Kingdoms with the council. Days spent with Father and Makerholf in the navigation room, charting our course, or lounging on deck with Springy and talking about the wonders of the universe.

    Marylea drew a breath as she caught sight of the Loki. "When you said we were going in an airship," she said, "I''d pictured a plane. But this - this is a ship with wings."

    I smiled. "Loki is something, all right."

    The Loki''s wings were spread in all their glory - white, shimmering canvas stretched out over a NeoAlum structure that resembled bat wings. He towered over us - a majestic luxury airship designed and built by the best engineers. It ran on the same biofuel that powered the Kingdom of Aragonia - Spriarweed. The first working prototype had been built just a few years after Spriarweed was discovered.

    I noticed that the hull, usually matted with dirt and grime, was gleaming, as if especially polished to impress our Ellisian allies. This brought a frown to my face. I didn''t feel like we needed to impress anyone.

    The crew moved in the dim cavern of the dock. I made out two figures - a tall, stout man wearing a captain''s hat, and a lean, scrawny guy in an apron. They walked down the stairway from the hull, and I gave a cry of surprise.

    "Welcome to the Loki!" boomed the Captain. "A true marvel in engineering and technology. Pardon me, this is like my love child. My brother helped build it, you know. Well, Springy designed it, and all, but my brother helped make it." He grinned. "Anyway, my name is Captain Maherty, and I will be your Captain for this voyage."

    "And I''ll be your chef," said Fabe, sweat peppering his forehead underneath his commis chef''s hat. He was beaming.

    "What the Stars are you doing here?" I asked Fabe with a wide grin.

    "Oh, nothin," Fabe replied, returning my grin. "Heard Ellis had the best restaurants, thought I''d pay a visit."

    "Fabian comes highly recommended," said Captain Maherty, his round face sporting twinkly eyes and a bushy white beard.

    "Proud of you, Fabe," Tem said, giving him a clap on the shoulder.

    Fabe grinned. "Enough with the sappy stuff, it''s giving me the chills." Then he scowled as if he''d seen a sewer rat. "Why''s he coming along? What happened to your private ship, Prince?"

    "I don''t talk to the help," sneered Prince Ralf. "Are you going to put these away, or am I going to have to do it myself?"

    Fabe turned back to me and rolled his eyes. "If anyone needs me, I''ll be prepping for lunch in the kitchen." He gave me a wink and walked up a platform that led into the hold.

    Ralf turned to the Captain and opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Captain Maherty''s dreary sigh. "Treat others the way you want to be treated, Prince," said Captain Maherty. "Now, all your rooms are ready. If you would follow me into the ship, I''ll show you your rooms and we''ll be on our way. Oh the joy of adventure!"

    **

    "I''m not used to such luxury," said Fabe. "Look at how shiny these pots are." He gawked at his warped reflection in the side of a large pot.

    "Of course they''re shiny," said Tem. "They hardly ever get used."

    Fabe fingered the pots as if they were diamonds and said, "What a waste. I''d like to take some of these home."

    This was when Marylea popped into the kitchen, her fiery mane filling the doorway. She wore a bathing suit and looked rosy from baking in the sun. She had convinced Keenan to sunbathe with her on the deck. It didn''t bode well for our pasty scholar.

    "Hey guys. I couldn''t help but noticing a really weird room on the way here. If I may ask - what''s the padded room for? Looks like a bomb shelter."

    A chill swarmed the back of my legs. "You don''t want to know."

    "And I hope you never find out," Fabe added earnestly.

    Marylea''s eyes widened. "Why not?"

    It''d happened a few years ago, when Jin Long had cried for help to search for the royal prince, Hu Xin. We''d flown back there instantly and neglected to check the skies for Partridges. It was my first time encountering those irksome creatures, and hopefully my last.

    I recalled running into that padded room, my legs so shaky I tripped over my own feet; Tem coming barreling in after me, his hand touching my back gently, urging me forward; the rest of the crew flooding in, and then, finally, the door shutting. We sat on the white benches, hands over our ears, jaws clenched. Shrieks permeated the air and ground into our skulls. My head was about ready to burst. I''d curled into a ball and clenched my eyes as tightly as I could.

    Then I thought about what''d happened next in Jin Long, and my gut was drenched with ice cold water. It made the Partridges seem like a walk in the park.

    I shook my head. The polished granite counters seemed very interesting to everyone all of a sudden.

    "Come in, marvel at the kitchen scents," said Fabe. Bless his soul, he was changing the subject. "We''re curious about something too. How did you learn to control your powers?"

    Marylea''s face brightened. "How do I put this?" She thought for a moment. "You know how you want to learn how to roll your tongue, wiggle your ears, or raise one eyebrow, and you practice, and practice, and practice until you can? It''s like that. I willed myself to make something, and I did. It just happened."

    Tem glanced at me and said, "Must be amazing."

    "It is, except for the restrictions. But I totally understand why they''re there." She gave us a small smile. "Oh yeah ¨C the Captain told me to tell Fabe to chop-chop with lunch, he''s starving. I''d better get back to the deck. I told Keenan I''d get him sunscreen. I''ve never seen someone burn so badly." She smiled apologetically. "You guys have got to come to the deck some time! The sun''s great." Then she popped back out. I chuckled inwardly at the thought of chalk-white Keenan roasting and turning lobster-red in the sun.

    "Captain Maherty the slavedriver," Fabe muttered, but as he went back to stir-frying vegetables, I caught a small curve of his lip. I knew Fabe enjoyed every minute of tossing sizzling vegetables in hot sesame oil. I knew because Tem and I had been his ardent fans and taste-testers since we''d met in the royal kitchens when we were children. Ten years ago, Tem and I been sent to the kitchens to fetch some herbs for the apothecary, and in the kitchen we found a scrawny, grimy faced boy. He perked up at the sight of us and asked, "Hey, wanna taste?" and then shoved us little bowls of chicken noodle soup that tasted like it''d been brewed by the Stars.

    We''d been inseparable ever since. Tem and I regularly visited him in the kitchens, where we would watch him cook and listen to his dreams of becoming royal chef, traveling the Realm collecting exotic spices and ingredients and concocting exotic dishes. We sampled his latest creations, even if they were, on occasion, too adventurous for our tastes.

    Then I remembered Marylea''s question about the padded room, and the warm, fuzzy feeling inside faded. I frowned. Tem noticed my expression and touched my arm, as if in our twelve years of friendship I had unwittingly handed him the key to my mind. "You don''t have to worry; the skies are clear," he said.

    I shivered. "Stars bless my soul, I hope so."

    "Quit your sweet nothings and help me get the plates," said Fabe, giving the veggies a final toss. "Stars, it''s a furnace in here."

    Sweet nothings? My face heated up faster than a charcoal grill. I shoved it out of my mind and hurried to the cabinet where the plates were kept.

    Lunch was served five minutes later in the control room, where we got the best view of the sweeping Central Ocean.

    "Did you know," said Keenan, setting his plate of pesto pasta on his lap, "That Greek statues used to be colored instead of white? The only reason they''re white is because time and the elements stripped them of their color."

    "And why are you telling us this?" asked Tem, forking a mushroom into his mouth.

    "Because later you''ll see that all the statues in Ellis are white."

    Tem stared at Keenan like he''d trained owls to deliver mail.

    "I''m just saying," continued Keenan, "for an Ancient Greek-themed Kingdom, they aren''t very historically accurate."

    Tem laughed like Keenan had said the funniest thing he''d ever heard. "We''re in the Realm, not the Other Place. The Ancient Greece never existed. Nothing''s historically accurate here."

    Keenan sucked in a breath. "You know it''s my job to research ¨C"

    "Tem was just teasing, Keenan," I said, smiling at my tutor, who looked about to explode.

    "Aye aye, smarty pants," said Captain Maherty. "If you look out you''ll see the Bigland up ahead."

    The Bigland, a large ragged landscape lush with forests, mountains and rivers, became visible through the clouds. I''d learnt it was larger than the continent of North America in the Other Place.

    "The Bigland is the closest land mass to the Aragonian Island," Keenan explained to Marylea. "Many of our allies are located on the Bigland."

    "What about the Kingdoms who aren''t allies?" asked Marylea.

    "We generally avoid each other," said Tem.

    "Look," said Fabe, a look of utter glee on his face. He pointed at a tiny speck in the distance. "There''s Ellis. Home of Realm-renowned chefs." He looked up at our grim faces. "What? We can''t all be unhappy to be here."

    "I''m not," said Marylea. "It looks beautiful."

    "You should all be grateful you get to witness Ellis'' splendor," said Ralf.

    He went ignored.

    "Hi-ho, everyone," called Fabe. "Dishes to the kitchen, now, or they don''t get washed."

    I shot a bemused look with Tem, who grinned and said, "Hey, not every day that he gets to boss people around."

    ***

    At daybreak the next day, Captain Maherty called for everyone to gather in the control room for landing. "Mighty fine view we''ve got," he said.

    I leaned against the dashboard, watching Tem from the corner of my eye. His face was pale from waking up, his hazel hair slightly ruffled.

    Beyond the windows, the mountains of Ellis emerged like ivory tusks. Twelve mountains, each with a uniquely themed hotel perched on its summit. The thirteenth, the mountain in the middle, was home of The Olympians, the best hotel and Achilles'' dwelling. Dense white fog shrouded the base of the mountains, rendering the ground level of Ellis out of sight.

    Some people might appreciate Ellis - people like Ralf. I thought it was a vapid black hole of self-indulgence.

    "In the diamond mines they shall toil," muttered Keenan, as if in a trance.

    "Alrighty, everyone," called the Captain. "We''ll be landing on The Olympians in a bit. Grab a seat and buckle up." He tweaked a few dials, pushed a few buttons, then looked up at us from the control panel. "Landing initiates in twenty."

    That was our cue to strap ourselves into the seats. I rung the bell to let Fabe know in the kitchen that we were landing, and he came zipping up in seconds. Half panting, he buckled himself into the seat behind me.

    I heard Marylea say something with concern. "Are you all right?"

    She was looking at Keenan, who was tightly strapped into his seat, looking like the royal library was burning before his very eyes.

    "I''m fine," he croaked. His knuckles had gone white from gripping the arm rests.

    She took his hand and I felt a warm shiver run down my back. It was all I could do not to glance at Tem.

    Clouds engulfed us as we descended, and for a second we saw nothing but white. Then the majestic facade of The Olympians loomed before us, its white spire kissing the clouds. Towering cyprus trees bordered the pristine structure. Modeled after the Parthenon, the grandest hotel in Ellis stole my breath away, as much as I despised it.

    "I''d forgotten how beautiful it was," said Fabe.

    Tem grunted.

    The airship floated to the ground and landed with a light bump, like the runway was made of marshmallows. Maherty turned around with a wide grin like he''d won the lottery.

    "Haven''t lost it," he said.

    Fabe gave the proud captain a thumbs up.

    Maherty tipped his hat. "Everybody off the ship. Looks like we got a welcome party. I''ll be with you after I dock."

    The afternoon sun sparkled off the white polished marble that made up most of the landing site. Standing by the grand entrance to The Olympians, looking sharp in a white tuxedo and a killer smile, was Achilles. Shaper of Ellis, diamond extraordinaire, and with as much conscience as a bowl of soup. His personal assistant Aphrodite, who moonlighted as his fianc¨¦, stood next to him, pretty as a rose.

    Ralf gave a happy cry. "Achilles, my brother!" He flew off the disembarkation ramp, headed straight for Achilles like a bee to pollen. They were "best friends," if you considered someone who ignored you until your Kingdom became one of the richest in the Realm to become your best friend a best friend.

    "Ralfie!" cried Achilles, his arms wide open. They gave each other a bear hug, and my lunch, as good as it was, threatened to push its way up and out.

    "Ashling Dircourt," said Aphrodite in a slurred voice. The accent was new. She, too, had her arms wide open, and I forced myself into them. "You look beautiful."

    Dressed in my Caval and knee-high boots, I was hardly fashion-forward, but I smiled anyway. Aphrodite, on the other hand, was all decked out. Jewelry worth thousands of coins adorned her body, which was clothed in a sheer red dress to match her rich chocolate tresses. She had definitely blossomed from the gangly tween she was a decade ago, though I couldn''t say the same about her personality.

    "Thank you," I said. "You, on the other hand, look absolutely revolting."

    Aphrodite''s face stiffened for a millisecond before she cackled. "Ah, Ashling. Always your raw self."

    I would''ve never thought of saying such a thing to sensitive, beautiful Aphrodite ten years ago. She was just as revolting as mother-of-pearl, and she would''ve had an emotional breakdown. But since she''d gotten engaged to Achilles, balloon-head extraordinaire, I found joy in testing her limits. Anyone who was engaged to Achilles was bound to have thick skin. Or perhaps a part of me wished she would realize there was more to life than being a pretty accessory hanging from a man''s arm.

    The resplendent couple went on to shake hands with the rest of our party. Achilles'' eyes twinkled like fresh-cut diamonds when he saw Marylea.

    "Who do we have here?" he boomed, as if he wanted the whole Ellisian Kingdom to hear. "It''s Aragonia''s brand-new Shaper! Tell me, have the stuffy Aragonians been treating you well?"

    I ground my teeth together, despite my dentist''s repeated warnings to kick the habit.

    "They have been very nice," said Marylea, accepting the handshake Achilles thrust at her.

    Achilles laughed. "Sure they have. They''ve missed having a Shaper."

    Tem coughed. "On the contrary -"

    "Come," Achilles continued, ignoring Tem. "Let me bring you to the lobby and get you checked in."

    Tem shot me a look, and I shook my head. Achilles wasn''t worth boiling our blood over. Achilles and Aphrodite sashayed off, and Prince Ralf jogged a little to keep up. Ellis'' main export is precious stones. There was no doubt that Prince Ralf wished he was born here than in stuffy Aragonia and its willowy weeds.

    We followed behind them, surveying the surroundings. Twelve mountains surrounded us, each peaked by a themed hotel - Atlantis, Arabian, Egyptian, Imperial China. The hills were linked by travellators that formed an intricate, glittering web. A dense fog concealed the bottom half of the mountains, though if one looked closely one could see flights of stairs and elevator shafts heading down through the fog.

    Templeton sniffed. "The air is stinging my sinuses, the glitz blinding my eyes."

    "The air is thinner only because we are high up," said Fabe. Do you smell the aroma of world-famous cuisine?" He skipped ahead of us, happier than a pigeon with a french fry. Well, at least he wasn''t salivating over the thirteen casinos surrounding us.

    "We''re hereee!" announced Achilles, spinning on his heels and throwing his arms wide like a circus ringmaster. Behind him was a large archway that led to the hotel lobby, Ellis'' motto emblazoned in gold across it: semper lucens, ardens numquam. It was an ancient language for "Always shining, never burning"; something a previous Shaper had cooked up in a drunken haze, no doubt.

    The lobby of The Olympians was even more extravagant than its exterior, if that was possible. An elephantine fountain sat smack in the middle, with white statues of twelve of the Olympian gods arranged in a perfect circle. The statues glittered with gems. In the middle stood a thirteenth statue set on a pedestal higher than everyone else, which looked like it''d been carved entirely out of diamond. It was a statue of Achilles in Greek war armor.

    "Oh look," I whispered, pointing at the statue. "Achilles made some modifications."

    The Achilles statue on the fountain wore reinforced boots, his heel well protected by steel plates. Everyone sniggered.

    "Did someone shape those gems?" Marylea asked.

    "Shapers cannot shape resources of the Realm," answered Keenan. "Those were mined here."

    Achilles approached a young woman behind the lobby counter who wore a tailored suit. "Meelie, my darling. See that these good folk are assigned the best rooms. They''re our ambassadors of Aragonia ¨C one of our closest allies." He winked at us, and I about barfed.

    Meelie had bright blonde hair in a bun, smoky eyes and eyelashes too long to be natural. "Yes, sir."

    Achilles turned to us with a smile that didn''t reach his eyes. "I''m very sorry to leave you like this, but I must greet my other ambassadors." He kissed my hand, and I tried not to wince. Then he kissed Marylea''s and stroked her skin with his thumb. "Au revoir, fellow Shaper. Meelie, if you would please brief them about our next activity. Aphrodite and I must go. I''ll see you later, Ralfie!" He bowed. "See you at dinner, Ashling," said Aphrodite, and gave me a wave. Her golden sandals clicked on the marble floors embedded with sparkling diamonds. They disappeared around a corner.

    "So," said Meelie, "I have some exciting news ¨C the Dodger Games will be happening tomorrow at noon, and they''re taking sign-ups in the Grand Hall. The prizes this year are phenomenal."

    Tem groaned just loud enough for me to hear. I smiled. For someone who was good at everything physical, Tem was surprisingly terrible at the Dodger Games, as if the paintballs were pre-set to target him. Because he wasn''t used to not excelling at something, he''d decided he hated it.

    Meelie presented a wad of brochures with a flourish. "And here''s the week''s schedule, along with coupons to our fine restaurants and gallerias." She flashed us a million-watt smile. "I promise this will be the best week of your lives."

    "What''re the Dodger Games?" asked Marylea.

    "It''s like paintball. You''ll see," said Keenan. His knowledge of the Other Place''s culture and games always astounded everyone.

    "I love paintball," said Marylea. "Shall we go sign up later?" Tem groaned again.

    "Whatever you wish. It''s your trip," said Keenan, and I knew Tem was fighting all efforts to punch him.

    The next few minutes involved Meelie tapping the screen, turning to us to give us a charming smile every few seconds, and then finally biting her lip like she''d stumbled upon a virus.

    "It says here only three rooms were assigned to Aragonia, and we are fully booked," she said, looking pained. "I''m so very sorry, but I''m afraid you will have to share rooms."

    "Absurd," said Prince Ralf. "Achilles cannot expect me to share a room."

    "One of them has been assigned to you, Prince Ralf." She handed a pair of room keys to him. Light and golden, they chimed like crystal wind bells.

    Keys in hand, Prince Ralf waved at us with the expression of one leaving us to die in a lion''s den. "See you at the Dodger Games. I''ll be in the audience, cheering you on," he said, a faint smirk on his face. He directed it towards Tem, whose scowl deepened.

    "Shall I assume the rest of you will split the two rooms?" asked Meelie, looking at us with arched eyebrows. "Girls in one room, boys in the other?"

    Tem made a small noise. Keenan suddenly lost all the color in his face, and looked like he was in a landing airship again.

    "Yes, we can do that," I said quickly.

    "We''ll be roomies, Ash," said Marylea, grabbing my arm. "How fun."

    Keenan looked sick, and Tem looked like he''d run over a squirrel. They weren''t arch enemies, but they''d never been the best of friends either, preferring to remain at a comfortable distance.

    "Awesome," said Fabe, slinging his arms around them. "Slumber party!"

    ***The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    The Dodger Games arena was the same giant obstacle course I''d remembered from the past years I''d played. An apt description would be "indoor playground on steroids." The entire course was made from padded foam mats; raised platforms were lined with guns armed with orange, green, red or purple paintballs, each capable of stunning between five minutes to an hour. It is not with pleasure that I say I know, from experience, that the paintballs sting worse than a hive of hornets.

    Multiple times I had sworn never to participate in the Dodger Games ever again. Getting smacked by multiple exploding paintballs was not my cup of tea, but I was always dragged into it one reason or other. Wen Xin, a childhood friend of mine, begged me to join her team last year because she was sick of losing. (We still lost, but at least we''d come in third and gotten a hundred dollar credit and a blue award ribbon. I''d given the ribbon to Wen Xin''s cat.)

    This time, it was my role as the mentor of Marylea, a Realm newcomer blissfully unaware of the Dodger Games'' goings ons, that pulled me into the games again. The air was buzzing with excitement as Aphrodite mounted the podium to announce today''s prize. I heard aahs as the audience took in her glorious blonde curls, her resplendent figure cloaked in glittering red fabric. Me, I could only think of the pain that awaited me.

    "Welcome to the annual Dodger Games!" said Aphrodite from her podium twenty feet off the ground. My neck ached to look up. "Thank you for joining us tonight. To reward you for your participation, I am pleased to announce that the prize this year has been Amped! Up! Would anyone like... a thousand-dollar gift card to our shopping arcade?"

    Cheers went up in the stadium.

    Tem muttered next to me, "As if there was anything there that cost under a thousand dollars." He was wearing a padded suit with fine red and orange stripes running down it ¨C our team uniform. We wore special impenetrable Dodger Games uniforms, so paintballs touched only exposed skin. They weren''t always like that, but people had dropped too quickly in the previous games, and Achilles had been forced to offer better protection. About twelve teams were gathered at the entrance of the course with us, looking pumped from the announcement of the big prize.

    "There''s more! Winners will also choose between an exclusive spa retreat in Stone Henge, our ten-star VIP-only facility, or a fifteen-hour cooking workshop with our one-and-only Chef Jeffi. Chef Jeffi hails from the Kingdom of Jin Long, and has won twenty Ellisian stars. He has won Realm-wide acclaim with his specialty in inter-Kingdom fusion cuisine."

    Fabe gave an excited squeal and looked at me like he''d won the lottery. "That''s it, Ash. We have to win. We''re in it to win it! Chef Jeffi is the master! An Ellisian five-star chef! Can you imagine how much I''ll learn?"

    I stared at him. Great. Now we had to actually try to win.

    "Why the gloomy faces? It''ll be fun," said Marylea, who was bouncing on her heels from excitement. "How hard could it be?"

    Tem laughed bitterly. "You haven''t been in one."

    Keenan shook his head in agreement. "I agree with Tem on this one. It''s not an easy game."

    Marylea grinned. "I like a challenge."

    After announcing the prizes, Aphrodite began explaining the rules. I watched hopefully as Marylea''s mouth slackened. When Aphrodite was finished, Marylea had stopped hopping and her face was white as fresh snow.

    "Maybe I was wrong," she said weakly.

    "Is it too late to back out?" I asked.

    "Not on your life," said Fabe, clapping me on the back. "We''re winning that workshop."

    He was lucky we loved him so much.

    Achilles raised his right arm. "Teams at the starting point."

    We assembled with the other teams at the entrance. I spotted Wen Xin among the throngs of contestants. She was dressed in a black and red uniform, which matched her coal-black hair and inky eyes. I waved to get her attention, and her eyes widened when she saw me. For good reason ¨C I hardly attended the Shaper Conference, let alone participated in the Dodger Games. She did every year. She was the Shaper of Jin Long, after all.

    She mouthed the words, "Love you. Talk to you later." I smiled.

    Then a sound like a ship''s horn blasted through the obstacle arena, and all teams sprinted onto the course.

    "Go, go, go!" urged Fabe, poking me in the back.

    A surge of irritation sent me sprawling forwards. The floor was heavily padded and brightly colored in red, blue, and yellow. It was like running on clouds. Hip-high walls were arranged in a maze; high enough to make a path, but not high enough to protect us from the barrage that was to come. My grip shoes got a firm hold on the slippery surface; some other participants weren''t so lucky and slid to fall on their faces.

    Then the attack started.

    "Dodger Gaaames!" yelled someone at the top of his lungs.

    Paintballs rocketed through the air, and I ducked behind a cushioned wall. "Follow me," I said to my team mates, gesturing to the path ahead.

    "Ash is a veteran," Keenan explained to Marylea. "She was in Jin Long''s team last year."

    I wished Keenan hadn''t said that. "Guys, no matter what, don''t get hit by the purple ball," I said, hoping to distract Marylea from what he''d said.

    "What''s happens if we get hit by the purple ball?" asked Marylea, her voice frantic now.

    "Instant death," said Tem gravely.

    "Think about the workshop," breathed Fabe.

    Marylea''s voice was weak. "Not actual death?"

    Fabe chuckled. "Naw, you''re just out of the game."

    "Weren''t you listening to the rules?" asked Tem. "Remember, first person to finish the course and grab the trophy wins the games for everybody."

    "Keep up, you guys," I urged. "We''re falling behind."

    Just then, bright red paint splattered over Tem''s face. "Urgh," he grunted. Then he stiffened like a board and toppled onto the ground.

    "Tem!" I clutched at my chest, feeling like I''d been stabbed.

    "Aargh!" squealed Marylea.

    "It''s okay, it''s okay! He''s only been frozen for a minute. He''s alright." I said heavily, realizing that I was saying that more to myself than to Marylea. I bent down and carried Tem to the wall so he wouldn''t be trampled, and wiped most of the red paint off his cheek.

    "Sorry, Tem," said Fabe, squatting next to me, "But we have to keep moving. You''ll catch us up?"

    Tem grunted and blinked his eyes. I took it as consent. I touched his hand, hoped he knew this was as painful for me as it was for him, and turned away. "Let''s go, before we get another man down."

    We shuffled as fast as we could in a squat. Paint splattered all around us like deadly fireworks, landing on our shoulders, hair, legs. We passed a few frozen participants and edged around them so we remained under cover.

    Finally, the exit of the first round came into view.

    "We''re almost at the next stage. Everyone stay focused," I said. The moment the words escaped my mouth, Fabe got splattered on the head with orange paint. He groaned and fell on his side. He lay frozen in a cradled position.

    I cried in frustration and started pulling him to the side to avoid the team in black-and-green who running on all-fours towards the exit. He had a steely expression on his face, as if saying, Please win this for me.

    "We''ll try, Fabe," I whispered.

    "Orange ¨C two minutes," Keenan huffed. "So close."

    I looked behind us. "Tem should be here by now. Has anyone seen Tem?"

    "He probably got hit again right after he thawed," said Keenan.

    "I see why he hates this game," said Marylea.

    I tried not to picture Tem sprawled across the ground, colors splattered across his face.

    The exit was heavily fortified with paint ball stations on a platform twenty feet up. There were few walls around us to offer protection. I saw no option but to run for it like squirrels on a sugar-high. I relayed this to my teammates, and although their faces went cotton-white, no one could come up with a better plan.

    "Serpentine, on three," I said. "One - two -"

    We darted towards the exit in a snake-like fashion. The route was littered with fallen comrades, every one of them blasted with a smorgasbord of bright colors. One of them had a purple blotch on his neck. Ouch. I glimpsed medics scurrying towards us to haul him off the course.

    "Pick it up!" I cried.

    A wave of jubilation swept over me as I crossed the exit archway. I continued running to clear the path, then turned around to see if my team mates had made it. Marylea and Keenan were close behind me, panting but spotless.

    I felt a surge of pride and grinned. "Great job, team."

    Marylea turned her back towards me and pointed at a purple splotch on her uniform. "Lucky call."

    I frowned. "Don''t let that touch your skin, or anyone else''s. Unless they''re from another team."

    Marylea grinned wickedly. "Gotcha."

    We advanced to the next stage, where it wasn''t just a simple don''t-get-hit game anymore. Instead of guns, uniformed attackers lined raised platforms on both sides, each armed with a bucket of fresh paintballs of assorted colors. Walls were scattered throughout the course more sparsely. Paintballs were strewn across the padded floor, free for contestants to haul at whomever they chose. The second round was always a fiasco where contestants attacked each other while being picked off by attackers on raised platforms.

    "There will be areas where no cover is available," I warned my teammates. "We will have to take down the attackers in order to pass. Watch out for other teams, too. They''ll be out for our blood."

    We traversed along a narrow corridor in a single file. The narrow path made me feel claustrophobic, but the high walls meant the attackers on the platforms above could hardly see us, much less hit us.

    The safe haven didn''t last long. The corridor opened into a wide circular space, large enough to fit a horde of elephants. Paintballs were piled in the middle in a pyramid. It was clear what Achilles meant for us to do.

    "We need to down the attackers before we can cross," I said. "There''s no way we can pass otherwise."

    As my mind reeled with plans, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked over my shoulder to see An Ja, Shaper of the Sterne Kingdom. She wore silver wire-rim glasses and her straight chamomile hair, tied back in a ponytail, was matted with green paint. She only had one other team mate with her, and they were both dressed in black and purple.

    "Ve''re down to two," she said in a heavy Sterne accent. "Vant to team up?"

    I looked at my two team mates. The same shadow of doubt I felt was cast over their faces. If we were quick enough, we could each grab a paintball and pelt An Ja and her team mate. But An Ja looked so earnest, so sincere. Besides, it did make sense to team up against the attackers instead of turning on each other.

    I''d never known her very well, but it didn''t hurt forging an alliance with Sterne through team games, did it?

    I looked at my teammates, and each nodded in return. I turned to An Ja. "Why not? We''ll cover left, you''ll cover right."

    An Ja nodded. "Got it."

    "Ready?"

    "Ready."

    We trudged forwards, each team flanking the other''s back. The first wall was long and narrow, and we were forced into a crawl.

    "It''s my pleasure to work with the beautiful princess of Aragonia," said An Ja''s team mate as he scooted up to me. He was a fair boy with straw hair. "My name is George."

    "Focus, George," I said. I had little patience for lotharios.

    We came to the opening. I looked up and saw six attackers stationed on the platform, three on each side.

    "There''re three purple balls in the pile, one at the top, one in the middle, one on the bottom," observed Keenan.

    "Who''s the best shot?" asked An Ja.

    "Ash has played before, haven''t you, Ash?" said Marylea.

    An Ja''s lips twitched. She had seen me play last year, and no doubt I hadn''t left a good impression.

    "I''ll do it," said Keenan quickly. Without another word, he darted into the gap, grabbed the purple ball sitting on top of the pyramid and got back before the attackers could say, "paintball." He also grabbed a second ball - an orange one - and pelted it at the pyramid. The neat pile exploded in a smorgasbord of color, and balls scattered all over the floor. A few rolled close enough for us to reach without being in danger.

    "Great job, Keenan!" cried Marylea. "You never said you knew how to play."

    Keenan gave a sheepish smile.

    That was when the arena started raining with paintballs. We pressed ourselves against the walls as close as we could. Bright colored paint pelted the floor everywhere, painting it like abstract art.

    I watched with pride as Keenan, the quiet scholar, peeked over the wall from a crouch to find a target. He ducked, and a red paintball whished past his crow-black hair. Right as the paintball hit the ground, he stood and pelted the purple paintball at one of the attackers.

    "Did it hit?" I asked.

    Keenan pressed himself against the wall and grinned at me. "Right in the face."

    I grimaced. "That''s going to sting."

    "Good job, Aragonian scholar," said George. He looked genuinely impressed. How he''d figured that Keenan was a scholar, I did not know. Was it the paper-white skin, his lithe, lean body, or his eyes sparkling with intelligence?

    "Only five more to go," said An Ja. With that, she pelted a green paintball at the attacker''s platform. There was a cry and thunk. "Someone''s out for five minutes," she said, pressing herself against the wall again. This collaboration was proving very helpful indeed.

    We pelted paintballs at the attackers in a steady stream. Keenan darted out while the attackers were distracted to grab the other two purple balls, and fell another two attackers. They were all down in a few minutes, and it was finally safe to advance.

    "Great job, people!" said Marylea. "I feel like we could - ARGH."

    I turned around, expecting to see paint dripping from Marylea''s face. Instead, I saw a dagger embedded within her abdomen.

    The person holding the dagger wore a black suit, had dark piercing eyes and a grim smile.

    "Assassin!" cried Keenan. He shoved me against the wall and stood in front of me with his arms outstretched. My shoulder slammed against the padded walls, and I felt a burst of confusion.

    The assassin looked at us, sneered, then pulled the dagger out of her.

    The blade was clean.

    "Relax," he drawled. "Fake knife."

    "What the heck?" yelled Marylea. "I thought I was dead. You scoundrel ¨C"

    She was silenced by a smack of orange paint on her neck, and crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll.

    From the corner of my eye, I saw Keenan pick up a green paintball and aim it at the attacker.

    "Keenan, wait -"

    Too late - he had already pelted the ball. As always, the ball hit right on target. The "assassin" hit the ground with a face full of green paint.

    "I wanted to question him," I said.

    Keenan looked alarmed. "Stars, Ash, I''m sorry. I acted on reflex."

    "Vy did he do that?" asked An Ja. She gestured at the stunned attacker. "Vas it a prank? A distraction?"

    "Vatever it vas, it vorked," said George, hugging himself.

    I nodded, feeling shaken. I picked the dagger up. The dagger handle was made of cheap plastic, fashioned to look like it was wrapped in leather. Its blade was retractable, and also cheaply made. It wouldn''t have pierced anything even if it didn''t withdraw into its handle.

    I looked down at the attacker. He had messy black hair and was dressed in a black suit with gold stripes.

    "He''s from the team of Ellis," I said, frowning.

    Keenan gave a guttural growl. "Is this Achilles'' idea of a joke?"

    "Must be." An Ja shrugged. "He''s known for doing childish things." She shook her arms, as if shaking her tension off. "Are ve moving on, then?"

    Marylea lay lifeless on the padded floor, her limbs stiff. I looked at Keenan. "What''d you think?"

    Keenan gave a small sigh. "Templeton, Fabe and Lea would want us to move on." He took Marylea in his arms and gingerly placed her by the wall. His hand caressed her hair, and a shiver ran through me. What I would give to have Templeton treat me that way.

    "Then let''s go," said An Ja. "I see other teams behind us."

    ***

    With the help of Keenan''s mad pelting skills, we got to the end of the second course without further casualty. An Ja and her team mate were grateful, to say the least.

    "Ve found the right allies, Ash of Aragonia," she said, shaking her blonde curls behind her shoulder. "Now ve have to split up."

    The third course was a full-fledged maze with walls eight-feet high. They were so high we could barely see the attackers stationed on the platforms that circled the maze. The first team to get to the exit won the Dodger Games trophy and the prizes Achilles offered.

    "After we part ways, everything is fair game," said An Ja. "Left or right?"

    I looked at Keenan. "You got us here. The honor is yours."

    "Right," he said.

    An Ja nodded. "Best of luck."

    Keenan I headed down the right path, An Ja and her team mate to the left. I was gripped by a sudden claustrophobia as we walked between the narrow, high walls, with only a silver of fluorescent ceiling visible.

    "If we win," I said to Keenan, "Fabe owes us big time."

    Keenan chuckled from behind me. "I''m having fun. Aren''t you?"

    I had been, surprisingly, kind of having fun, until Marylea got mock stabbed. I told Keenan this, and his face grayed over.

    Popping noises erupted in the distance, followed by screams. It didn''t sound like An Ja or George, and I felt strangely relieved. In our short cooperative stunt, I had grown quite fond of Sterne''s Shaper.

    We crept in a crouch against a wall. A spattering of paintballs exploded above us, and I shrieked. We got to our knees and crawled forward. The paintballs kept coming, but they only splashed on our uniforms, away from our skin. The attackers gave up, and we were blessed with a few minutes of silence.

    Surviving the onslaught of paintballs had sent adrenaline rushing through my veins like electricity down a wire, and I think it was for that reason I turned to Keenan and asked, "So, was it love at first sight?"

    Keenan''s orange and red uniform was now a slimy rainbow. His face was a blank. "What?"

    "You and Marylea. How''d it happen?"

    Keenan tone was serious when he answered. "I don''t think this is the time, Ash."

    I pursed my lips. "Sorry, didn''t mean to intrude."

    Keenan was silent for a moment before he said, "I only meant we should watch out for paintballs. Wait - stop."

    We froze. I heard a faint whistling coming from my right, and turned to see a purple ball pelting towards me. Then I felt a shove on my back, and I stumbled to the ground. I heard a ball explode behind me. Keenan cried out, then tumbled to the ground. I felt a bolt of fear. "Keen!" Keenan lay in a motionless slump on the ground. "Keenan?"

    The mound moved, and Keenan pushed himself up on his elbows. "I''m okay," he said, gesturing towards the purple splotch on his shoulder, just inches from his neck. He came over and offered a hand to help me up. "I wasn''t going to leave you on your own."

    I chuckled with relief.

    We moved on at a crouch, keeping as close to the left of the route as possible. Several times, we met dead ends and were forced to turn around. The victory horn had not blown, though, so we knew we still had a chance.

    Then we turned a corner and saw a glimmer of gold.

    I felt a jolt of glee and grabbed Keenan''s arm. "Keen, I see it."

    Keenan turned to where I was looking. His eyes widened. He looked at me, alert.

    "There may be other teams around," he said. "We have to be careful." I nodded.

    We moved towards the trophy, scouring our surroundings for attackers and whizzing paint balls. The trophy was less than ten feet away.

    "Should we make a run for it?" I asked.

    "It''s too risky," Keenan said. "There might be an ambush waiting."

    "What do you propose?"

    Keenan pressed himself against the left wall and gestured for me to do the same against the right. Then he stuck his head out an inch to survey our surroundings.

    "I see An Ja and her team mate at another entrance. They have paintballs in their hands." His brow furrowed. "I do not doubt that one of them, or the attackers up above, will get us before we reach the center. I suggest we wait for a distraction."

    So we squatted and waited for more teams to catch up, and hopefully serve as a decoy for us. But the other teams were either slow to gain, or had the same idea as we did, because we waited for ten minutes and there was still no sign of other competitors.

    "Maybe I can be a decoy," I said. "Then you can run to the trophy and win for us."

    "No," said Keenan. "I should be the decoy. I can take those paintballs better than you."

    I was grateful, but grinned at his protectiveness. "I think I can take a little pain."

    He shook his head. "This doesn''t feel right. Whoever attacked Lea was part of a plan. I need to protect you."

    I thought he was being a little paranoid, but kept that thought to myself. "How? We''ll both be running in the open."

    He started to strip.

    "Hey, hey! What''re you doing?" I hurried to cover my eyes.

    "Shh. They mustn''t know. Don''t worry, I have underclothes on."

    I felt silly and lowered my hands. "The paintballs will hurt like a trout hook without your uniform on."

    "I can handle it. All that matters is my underclothes are thick enough to prevent the paint from touching my skin."

    I blistered with confusion. "You really don''t have to do this."

    Keenan tugged at his uniform top. "We''ve come this far."

    I watched with my mouth open, struggling to find words, as Keenan stripped down to a white long-sleeved smock.

    "Now wrap this around your head," he said, handing his uniform top to me. "That should protect you from any hits."

    I draped the top over my head and arranged it so the neck-hole was positioned around my face. Keenan helped me tie the dangling long-sleeves around my neck to hold the top in place.

    "Now that you''re well protected, you can claim the trophy and victory for all of us." He stepped back in just his long-sleeved cotton undershirt and uniform pants, smiling. "Looks like we''re ready."

    "You sure you want to do this?" I asked.

    Keenan grinned, bringing crinkles to his eyes. "You''re becoming a nag like Templeton. Now, on three," he said. We stood at the exit in a crouching position. Beads of sweat began to gather at the back of my neck from being swaddled in thick material. "One, two ¨C three."

    We darted into the open space at full sprint. All at once, the arena exploded in a clamor of pelting paintballs. I felt a couple explode on my back and winced in pain. My legs kept running like clockwork. The trophy was only a few feet away now. Keenan ran by my side, looking bare with only a thin smock on.

    "Keep going!" he yelled.

    From the corner of my eye, I saw An Ja and her teammate making a run for it, too. They hurled the paintballs at us, and one whacked my waist. The other soared over Keenan''s shoulder.

    I willed my legs to speed up. They began to burn. My heart pounded in my swaddled head. From the corner of my eye, I saw a paintball heading towards us.

    "Duck!" I cried. I lowered to a crouch and saw Keenan do the same. The paintball splattered somewhere on the floor, and we kept on running.

    "If I fall, keep running," said Keenan. The moment he finished his sentence, a purple ball exploded on his right cheek, and he crumpled to the ground.

    I gritted my teeth and sprinted on. He''ll be all right, they''ll have him right up after the game ends.

    Almost there. My sides ached from being hit. The soles of my shoes struggled to find grip on the surface slimy with paint. The trophy came nearer - nearer - until finally it was within reach. I took a few more sprints, then jumped at the trophy. Its cold metallic surface stung my cheeks. I fell to the padded ground, hugging the trophy like it was my life.

    The victory horn blew, and relief washed through me like a refreshing stream. I wrapped my fingers around the trophy handles as if it would disappear if I wasn''t touching it, and got up to my feet. Keenan lay a few feet away, a mix of colors painting his white smock. The purple stain on his cheek glared at me. I squatted by him, pulled my damp head-wrap off and waited. A few feet away, An Ja and her teammate lay unconscious, along with a few other contestants I didn''t recognize.

    "Just a few minutes, Keenan," I whispered. He looked as if in a deep, restful sleep. My breathing calmed, and I looked up at the cheering crowd and the electronic billboards sporting my face with the word WINNER above it.

    I was calm, until Keenan started convulsing like he was touched by a live cable.

    Shock paralyzed me for a split second. Then my instincts kicked in. "Help!" I shouted so loudly my voice cracked. "Help, something''s not right!"

    Cables sprang from the platforms and paramedics came swooping in, clothed in white padded uniforms with "Ellis Medical" stamped in blood red letters on their chest. They brought with them a litany of medical supplies. One medic, a male, pressed his finger against Keenan''s wrist to feel his heartbeat. A petite brunette felt his forehead. Her name tag read Analise.

    "There is too much paint in his bloodstream. Contestants are not meant to remove their uniforms," Analise said. She spoke as if chiding Keenan, and it was all I could do not to swing my fist at her pouting lips. "Cleansing wipes and shot, now."

    They pulled out cloth wipe after wipe from a white box, cut his shirt open and began washing his skin of the offending substances. The wipes attacked my nostrils with stinging antiseptic fumes. Another medic prepped a syringe and injected a clear liquid into his arm.

    I watched with tears in my eyes and a hand clasped over my mouth. "Is he going to be all right?"

    "Don''t worry," said Analise. "Our paints are non-toxic. He''s just having an allergic reaction. It will pass."

    "Non-toxic?" I cried. "Then why is he seizing and foaming in the mouth?"

    Analise held out an arm as if afraid I would attack her. "Calm down, missy. He''ll be all right. Achilles won''t let any ambassadors come to harm."

    A wave of anger seized me. "I''ll calm down when he stops convulsing!"

    Analise turned back to Keenan and said calmly with her back to me, "There''re always the spitfires." Again, I felt the intense need to swing at her, but held myself. She was right; I was being a spitfire. I would feel ashamed if Keenan wasn''t flopping like an electrocuted fish out of water in front of me. I took deep breaths as my heart seized with panic.

    Finally, after Keenan''s torso and arms had been wiped clean, and a few more syringes of clear liquid injected into him, his convulsions eased into mild tremors. In a few stomach-churning minutes, his body relaxed.

    Analise stood and smoothed her uniform out. "There. What''d I say? An hour of rest and he''ll be good as new."

    I prepared a rebuttal, but bit my tongue when Keenan''s eyelids fluttered open. I fell to his side and felt his face. It was clammy but of normal temperature.

    "You silly boy," I said. "I was so worried. You got too much paint in your system." I bit my lip as I said it; a small part of me had a faint suspicion of foul play. I wouldn''t put it past Achilles to bask in the joy of watching the contestants in seizures.

    A smile edged across his pale face. "Better me than you. Did we win?"

    I was gripped by exasperation. "Yes, we won. Though I think I lost a few hours of my life."

    His smile widened. "I didn''t think you''d be so worried for me."

    That was puzzling. Why would he think that? Before I got a chance to reply, a familiar shrill voice split the air.

    "Keenan, my baby!"

    Marylea came running towards us from one of the exits. Her face was smudged with orange, green and blue paint. Every inch of her uniform was splattered by mixed colors of paint, like a rainbow had vomited on her.

    "I came running as soon as the medics unfroze me," said Marylea, plopping down next to me and cupping Keenan''s face. "They popped some nasty pill the size of a gumball into my mouth. Then I saw you convulsing on the screens! Are you feeling all right?"

    Keenan nodded. "A little weak, but otherwise I''m fine."

    I saw two more familiar faces running towards us. Both were painted a multitude of colors.

    "That was mighty brave," said Fabe. "And woohoo! We won!"

    "What Fabe meant to say was, thanks for the sacrifice," said Tem. He ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. "Sorry about the hold-up. I tried to catch up but got stuck in the second course. It''s a miracle you got out of there - paintballs were everywhere."

    "We teamed up with An Ja and her team mate," I said, fighting the urge to jump up and hug him for comfort. The panic from seeing Keenan seize was still crackling and alive in my veins.

    "Ah. I saw An Ja and another dude getting revived in the winner''s circle." Tem turned to Keenan with a soft smile. I guess Keenan''s sacrifice had earned a few points in Tem''s book. "So you and Ash get to choose the prizes." He smiled. "You''re choosing the spa retreat, right? I could use some relaxation after this."

    Fabe punched his arm.

    "Okay, guys," said Analise, pressing on the wireless receptor in her ear. "Time to clear the arena. All participants are to report to the starting point."

    As we snaked through the arena towards the starting point, passing reviving, groggy participants, we filled Tem and Fabe in on the attack on Marylea.

    Tem shook his head. "Did you make enemies?"

    Marylea bristled. "I haven''t offended no one!"

    "It was probably just a prank," said Fabe. "Nothing to worry about."

    "Trout," I cursed. "I''m so sick of people trying to get Lea." Before I could continue on my rant, a high-pitched voice called my name. "Ashling Dircourt!"

    I turned around to see the grinning face of Wen Xin. Her heart-shaped face was painted green, and her straight black hair was matted with neon orange.

    "Congrats on winning the games," she said, squeezing me with both arms. "I missed you on my team this year."

    I laughed. "Of course you did. What would you do without your personal meat shield?"

    She wrinkled her nose. "It was terrible. I was downed in the first round." She shrugged. "So, who''s your new Shaper? Is it this pretty brunette over here?"

    Marylea grinned and extended a hand. "Marylea. Arrived a few weeks ago. I''ve heard my hair is so bright it could burn down a building."

    Wen Xin laughed. "Pleased to meet you. Wen Xin. Ash and I go back." Her chocolate eyes swirled with warmth as she looked at me.

    By go back, she meant we''d known each other since we could walk. Our parents had been friends since the age of time, and Jin Long was one of our few allies who stuck with us after the Abandonment. Wen Xin was as close to a sister as I got. I would do anything for her, which included taking the blame for one mistake five years ago ¨C one that cost the confidence of my people. I knew it would cost her a lot more than it cost me, and I figured I could always win the Aragonians back. I''d forgotten they were more stubborn than berry stains. But Wen Xin had a reputation to keep up, a Kingdom to rule, parents to please. Until her baby brother became of age - eighteen - and took over, she was the one in charge.

    "So what''s up with you?" I asked Wen Xin. "I haven''t received a letter from you in two weeks."

    Wen Xin blinked and shifted her gaze to the distance. "I''m so sorry, Ash. A lot of things have been happening lately." She looked at me with a foreboding gaze. "I ¨C I got engaged."

    "What?" I''d never thought her parents would let her marry Shell. I''d always thought they would elope or something. I grabbed her hands. "That''s great news! Why didn''t you tell me?"

    Her hands were cold and limp. She grimaced. "It was an arranged marriage. I''m engaged to Giddy Pig."

    My mouth fell. "You can''t be."

    "Giddy Pig?" asked Marylea.

    "Only the Realm''s worst playboy," said Tem. "He''s probably somewhere in this stadium hitting up any females he can find."

    "Tem," I said, shocked at his insensitivity, and turned back to Wen Xin. "Sorry, but ¨C why him?"

    "My parents want an alliance with Nintie," she said, shrugging. She pretended it was no big deal, but the strain in her voice and her subdued gaze said otherwise. "How better to get allied than through marriage?"

    I bit my lip. She didn''t like this marriage any more than I cherished the thought of kissing Achilles'' feet. Yet I knew her parents, and how obstinate they were. Nothing would change their mind once they''d made it. It was all a matter of honoring their promise. If you asked me, they should be more careful about the promises they made.

    "Have you talked to him about it?" I asked. I wasn''t referring to Giddy Pig, and Wen Xin knew it. Her face shrouded with gray.

    She shook her head. "We''re going to announce it at tonight''s dinner."

    I felt sick to my stomach. "When''s the wedding?"

    "After my brother''s birthday." Wen Xin''s lips curved slightly. "And you get to be my maid-of-honor."

    I frowned at her terrible attempt at humor. "That''s only months away. And you agreed to this?"

    Wen Xin''s face tensed up. I''d touched a nerve.

    I felt my defenses rise up. "It''s - it''s a loveless marriage, Wennie. I don''t understand. What about Shell ¨C"

    "Ashling," she said in a low voice, "You, of all people, should understand putting duty before love."

    It was like she''d slapped me across the face. My mind fleeted to Tem, who was standing so close to me our elbows almost touched.

    My next instinct was to feel hurt that she''d responded to my concern with anger. Then I noticed something else hidden in her light brown eyes ¨C sadness.

    She was hurting, but her duty to her Kingdom came before anything else.

    My childhood maid Mariah''s words echoed in my head: "Marry a Prince, if not a Chancellor. Strengthen Aragonia''s standing."

    Would I marry someone for my Kingdom?

    Before I could derive an answer, a deep voice called, "Wen Xin, where are you?"

    Wen Xin''s somber face lit up like her birthday had come early. "That''s Shell. I need to go; I''ll see you at dinner." She touched my wrist in goodbye, smiled and merged with the crowd.

    "Arranged marriages," mused Marylea. "I didn''t know they happened here, too."

    I stood rooted to the ground as I watched Wen Xin go, feeling like my spirits had been crushed by a ten-ton boulder. Marriage was a topic that was hardly on my mind, and when it was, it was always a dreaded thing. Now it had barreled at me with a vengeance.

    "Poor Wennie," I muttered. I thought about the times Wen Xin, Shell and I had galumphed around Jin Long palace, flying dragon kites with trailing tails, and sneaking bread to the koi in the large lake in the castle grounds. Those days had happened only a few years back, yet they seemed a century away.

    Poor Shell. It was obvious to anyone in their presence that he was more than a bodyguard. Even a blind person could feel the tension between them. So what did it say about her parents who betrothed her to the Realm playboy?

    I snuck a glance at Tem, who stood still next to me. He noticed my gaze and asked, "Coin for your thoughts?"

    I felt a shiver and shook my head. "Save your coin. C''mon, we need to collect our prize."

    Fabe gave a squawk of excitement like a parrot presented with a buttered cracker.

    The prize presentation was thrown with loud fanfare. Ellisians loved good entertainment, and entertainment involving foreigners pelted with paintballs was even more exciting. We mounted the podium as a team in our glorious splattered uniforms. Keenan, who was back to his non-seizing self again, joined us. Marylea gave Keenan a smooch on the lips, took his hand and pumped it in the air. We waved, gold medals around our necks. Fabe hugged his gift certificate for the cooking workshop like it was his lifeline.

    "I love Ellis!" Fabe bellowed, waving to the cheering crowd.

    Next to me, Tem whispered through gritted teeth, "Say that again and I''m shredding your certificate into nano-sized particles."

    I laughed. At least someone was having fun.

 Chapter 6

    The way to the night''s dinner conference was through a marble corridor with a mosaic floor studded with jewels and lit by gold candlesticks. I desperately smoothed the obnoxious aquamarine ruffles lining my blue tent skirt, and my feet screamed in my pinching shoes.

    "You look like a peacock," Marylea said. "But it''s all right. I look like a jolly squirrel."

    "She does not look like a peacock," Tem argued. "I think she looks beautiful."

    My face burned, and butterflies blossomed in my belly. Traitorous body.

    "Thanks, but I feel like a peacock," I said while trying to force the blush from my face.

    "Yeah, Tem, how d''you manage to keep a straight face while saying that?" asked Fabe. Marylea laughed, and I shot him a look, to which he shook his head. "The dresses they make you wear."

    Dreadfully under-packed for ballroom functions, we had been forced to loan dresses from the concierge. These were the least ridiculous dresses we could find.

    "It''s times like these when I really wish I had my Shaping abilities outside of Aragonia," said Marylea. "Why didn''t anyone tell me to pack dresses that don''t make me look like a woodland critter?"

    "You''re in good company. We all look like dorks," said Fabe, who was dressed in a bright green tuxedo and a lemon tie.

    "You do know that ''dork'' means whale penis?" said Keenan coolly.

    Tem guffawed like it was the funniest thing he''d ever heard. "Whale penis," he wheezed in between breaths. He was so amused he''d forgotten to scowl, the way he did at everything Keenan said.

    "Go ahead, laugh," said Fabe grumpily. "If you were forced to take those fancy Cavals off and wear this, you won''t think it''s so funny."

    Tem and Keenan were both dressed in their Cavals because it was considered formal. It was unfortunately not included in the female''s dress code.

    "Sorry, Royal Council members only." Tem put a hand on Fabe''s shoulder. "If you ask nicely, I might petition for you to join the royal council as my private chef."

    Fabe made to punch Tem in the arm, and Tem ducked away, laughing. I caught a flicker of a smile on Fabe''s face. Fabe didn''t care what his position was; life was good as long as he got to cook.

    We ambled toward the ballroom where dinner would take place. Marylea and Keenan walked arm in arm in front of us, and Fabe wandered about the wide marble corridors admiring the ancient Greek decor ¨C columns that reached high to the ceiling, sculptures depicting Greek myth, gold lining the walls.

    "Holy trout!" Fabe cried. He turned to us, looking like it was Harvest Festival. "Would you look at that?"

    Ahead of us, the ballroom''s giant double doors, carved with intricate Greek stories, were thrown wide open, and through it I saw a scene even more outrageous than Ralf''s birthday parties. (In my opinion, no one needed to hire fire-dancers or nearly naked girls to celebrate the day they popped out from their mother. Their wailing infant self didn''t think it was a day worth celebrating.)

    Inside the immense ballroom, a dim-violet glow and sweet lavender haze swathed the immense space. Flickering sconces lined the walls, hidden behind satin purple veils. A smooth jazz-oriental tune wafted around the mingling ball-goers and curtained booths that speckled the shimmering mosaic floor. Bubbles drifted in the air, and one came close to my face. I reached out to touch it, and it bounced away. Up on the ceiling, Clear glass pipes ran along it in a complex maze, in which violet liquid writhed like grape jelly snakes. I gazed at the gushing liquid, mesmerized by its sentience. Oh the decorations Achilles came up with.

    My attention shifted to the pole dancers, who were sliding up, down and around glittering poles that were distributed across the immense space, dressed as cats or gypsies. The cats wore skin-tight suits and taut black cat ears; the gypsies wore two-pieces with dangling gold coins that glittered with each thrust.

    Casino game tables made up most of the floor. I heard the rhythmic clicks of chips deposited onto the green velvet table surfaces, and the clonk-clonk of roulette balls and the jittery slot machine music. I snuck a glance at Fabe and saw that he was positively salivating.

    I parted my lips to tell him to snap out of it when I heard my name.

    "Ashling and the Aragonian ambassadors! Come, please join us."

    "Stars bless us all," Tem mumbled.

    Achilles, draped in a white toga and sporting a gold leaf laurel on his brown cherubic curls, waved from his tent in the middle of the room. Through the sheer curtains, I spotted Aphrodite, dressed in a matching red toga. Prince Ralf sat next to them, dressed like a Maharajah. He wore a sapphire-encrusted turban with three white feathers sticking out from the top; sparkling violet cloth wrapped around his torso. The ensemble was completed with gold pants and pointed cloth shoes.

    I didn''t know we were at a costume party. Maybe that''s why I''m coming dressed as a peacock.

    The five of us walked to the tent like we were on death row.

    "Aragonians! Congrats on the win," said Achilles, his arms spread wide open as he leaned against the plush sofa. "I was impressed. After your performance last year, I''d never have thought you''d even reach the finals."

    I glared at him. "We didn''t appreciate your team''s nasty trick in the dodger games arena."

    Achilles'' face was a blank. Then he guffawed loudly like an amused gorilla.

    "The fake knife? Only a harmless prank. The audience loved it. I''d say it was worth it, don''t you?" He raised an eyebrow.

    Behind me, I could feel the glares of the others shooting over my shoulder at him.

    "You guys are so much fun," he said, leaning against the upholstery. "Keenan! I saw how you played. I''m thinking might have to bribe you to be on my team next year. Team Ellis should be thrown into the shark tanks for how they performed. Name your price."

    "I only play for Aragonia," said Keenan.

    Achilles'' eyes flashed. The golden boy was not accustomed to being rejected. There was a crackling silence and the booth filled with the smooth music in the background before Aphrodite chimed in, "So, Keenan, you and the Shaper, huh?"

    "Yes."

    "Strange," said Aphrodite. "I would''ve thought..."

    "It was love at first sight," said Keenan, answering my question from the arena. He smiled, put an arm around Marylea''s waist and pulled her towards him. "I couldn''t resist this."

    Marylea giggled. Aphrodite raised a plucked eyebrow but didn''t say anything more.

    "I like your attire, Ash," said Prince Ralf. "Very exotic."

    I couldn''t tell if he was jesting. "Er - thanks. It''s borrowed from the hotel."

    "Wonderful taste. Come sit."

    "Naw," said Achilles. "You shouldn''t sit here with cronies like us! Go have fun." He reached under the draped table and pulled out a leather suitcase. My heart sunk to my toes. He flipped the clasps open to reveal rows upon rows of colored chips.

    "This is on me," said Achilles. "Go on. Enjoy yourselves. Take it as my apology for the fake knife."

    "We really shouldn''t -" I began.

    "Aw come on, Ash," said Fabe, pleading. "It''s on him."

    "Fabe has a point," said Tem.

    I felt a surge of irritation. "Fabe should not - it''s not healthy."

    "It''s just a hobby," said Fabe.

    I shot him a look. "The fact that you just said that genuinely scares me."

    Prince Ralf stood, smoothing his gold silk pants. "My dear Ash, have some fun. It''s not every day you''re in Ellis. I''ll go with you guys." Apparently the drinks he had had made him forget his feud with us.

    "Go if you must. I''m sitting out," I said, and plopped onto the plush seat next to Aphrodite. I regretted this instantly, but it was too late.

    Achilles got to his feet. "Your loss, Ash. You are, indeed, a true blue Aragonian." He winked, and I pictured my fingers around his neck again. "Let''s go, my friends." He flashed a perfect smile, one that could only be the product of stuffing wads of cash into a happy orthodontist''s wallet.

    My party followed after Achilles and Prince Ralf, Tem and Fabe looking apologetic, Keenan whispering in Marylea''s ears, and Marylea giggling. I felt a tinge of worry for Marylea, one that I quickly dismissed.

    Once Achilles left the booth, Aphrodite instantly shed her shell of sophistication like it was a slimy cocoon. She crossed her waxed legs and stretched both arms out across the seats. She had returned to being the Aphrodite I used to know.

    "How are you doing, Ashby?" She draped herself across the seat, looking exhausted.

    "Okay, with our new Shaper and all. We''re still getting used to it. How''re you, Deity?"

    Aphrodite smiled. "Busy. You know Achilles. He''s always got a new plan to better his world." She laughed and sat up to refill her wine glass. "Marylea seems awfully normal, doesn''t she?"

    I raised an eyebrow, and I felt my walls building up again. "If you mean she''s not flamboyant, then yes, she''s very normal."

    Aphrodite chuckled wearily. "I know how you feel about Achilles. About this Kingdom." She revealed a glowing set of perfect teeth that mirrored Achilles''. "You don''t like how he flaunts his wealth."

    Getting uncomfortable, I decided to change the subject. "So, how''re the two of you doing?" The question in my head was really, How did you get Achilles, the hot air balloon head, to commit to you?

    "Oh, we''re good. He works me like a slave. But that''s life with Achilles." She sipped on her wine. "I love your dress. I noticed the emeralds on the lace and hem. That must''ve cost thousands. Achilles is very generous that way."

    I grunted. I hadn''t even noticed the emeralds, and realized now that was what had been scratching my arms.

    "It''s about time you started dressing your class, Ashby," Aphrodite continued. She brushed a golden curl off her face. "I''ll take you shopping. You won''t find better shopping anywhere else. Ellisians pride ourselves in being always ahead of the fashion world."

    My heart sank. The new Aphrodite was back. I hadn''t realized how much I''d missed the old Deity until she was gone again. Somehow, I managed to force a chuckle. "Aphrodite, it''s almost like you don''t know me."

    She groaned and leaned forward so her plunging neckline left little to the imagination. "If you won''t dress for your status, at least dress for your love life." She said the last two words in a whisper, as if they were sacred.

    I pressed my lips together. "I find it more important to capture a man with my mind and heart than with my body."

    "Not your body. Your assets," Aphrodite corrected. "If you have them, flaunt them." Her gaze settled on my chest.

    I shifted in my seat. "Please stop staring. It''s weird."

    Aphrodite averted her eyes with a smirk. She leaned back again and said, "Father is very proud of me. My family''s position will be elevated beyond our wildest dreams if Achilles marries me. That''s what both of us want to do, isn''t it? Make our families proud."

    I stroked one of the emeralds on my gown. It was smooth, cold to the touch. Almost as cold as my father''s affection for me. Our relationship had always felt like one between a King and his successor; there was no warmth between us, not any I could feel. "I just want to serve my Kingdom the best I can," I said.

    "Is that so?" Aphrodite took another sip of wine and cocked her head towards the slit where the veil curtain parted. "So - that scholar boy. He seems enamored with your new Shaper."

    I realized I''d been holding my breath and let it out now that conversation had moved into safer waters. "He does, doesn''t he? It''s funny."

    Aphrodite raised an eyebrow. "Rightfully so. He was always very... picky, wasn''t he?" She clucked her tongue. "Would you like some wine? This darned bottle is almost empty. Yes? I''ll be right back." She winked, stretched her slender form to its six foot length, then left the booth.

    I sat in the booth alone, guzzling spring water to curb an impending headache, to no avail.

    Then Templeton''s callused hands pushed the veil apart and he entered the booth smelling overpoweringly of lavender. He wore a sort of dazed look, like someone had blown sleep-powder in his face.

    My heart soared. "Hey. Where''re the others?"

    Templeton stroked my hair and sent chills down my body. "We got separated. Achilles was whisking us from table to table. The others are at the roulette table, I''d imagine. I just thought I''d check on you." He sat down by me. "You all right?"

    I let my eyes shut. "I have a killer headache."

    "Must be the haze," he said. "Care to take a walk?"

    I felt a surge of affection for this boy. "That would be great."

    We left the booth. The jazz had been replaced by a rock number, which pounded on my temples like a bratty child.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    We kept to the walls of the ballroom, narrowly avoiding drunks sashaying from one slot machine to the next, or pole dancers reaching out for us with manicured fingers. Finally, we came to a tall, arching set of double doors. Tem pushed it open and crisp air washed over me like a spring breeze. I inhaled and filled my smoldering lungs with cool, mountainous air.

    Tem closed the doors behind us, creating a seal against the blasting music and haze.

    Content, my headache ebbing, I leaned against the balcony balustrade. The white stone was cool to the touch and sent a series of goosebumps up my arms. I thought about what a miracle it was that tiny stars were still visible over the sweeping strobe lights and disorienting LED signs.

    "Crazy place," said Tem.

    "You bet."

    We stood in quiet companionship as my headache slowly went away. Then I became painfully aware that it was just me and Tem on the balcony. Alone. My heart quickened, and before fantasies could creep into my mind, I hurried to find something to distract myself with. My attention rested on the fog that swathed the bases of the thirteen Ellisian mountains.

    "See that fog?" I pointed at the thick, opaque layer separating the top of the mountains from their bases. "I wonder what''s under there?"

    Tem shrugged. "Probably nothing."

    "My headache''s gone. Care to go exploring?"

    Tem smiled. "You are a true student of the Aragonian Knight School."

    The only way down to the fog from the Olympians was a crumbled stone stairway that wound from a deserted garden peppered with grayed statues. The rocky surface was impossible to walk on with heels, so I yanked my heels off and carried on barefoot. Sharp rock edges peppered with sand dug into my skin, but my toes didn''t feel like they were gripped in a vice, and I got a much better grip on the treacherous stairs that way. Templeton offered me his boots, but I smiled and muttered something about feminine strength. He shook his head, grinning.

    The stairway extended into the fog. A sudden, baffling fear gripped me, like I was about to cross into a realm of ghosts and my senses were trying to stop me.

    "You okay?" asked Tem.

    I nodded. "Let''s cross Achilles'' barrier of secrecy, shall we?"

    I gritted my teeth, and together, we walked into the fog.

    The first thing we saw on the other side was a barbed-wire fence that stretched as far as we could see. It was dark under the fog, the air dense and foul. Two guards stood dressed in black uniforms with white shoulder pads by a large rusted gate. From each of their hips hung a sleek metal baton and a pistol. Their eyes went wide as the full moon obscured by the fog above when they saw us approaching.

    "What''re you doing here?" the guard with the bushy beard demanded.

    I put my arms on my waist to make sure my dagger was there. "We''d like to see what''s past that gate," I said. "Please."

    "You''re shittin'' me, right?" the bearded man said. "Ain''t nothin'' to see here. Why don''t you scurry back to your Greek palaces, eh? Corrum Pier ain''t for you people and your flower-scented bubbles." He turned to his partner. "Speaking of bubbles, Jimmie, did you know they don''t pop if you touch ''em? Those crazy rich people, making bubbles that don''t pop."

    Corrum Pier? Was there a whole other city under the fog?

    The other guard, Jimmie, sported a trim goatee and a scar across his right forearm. He scowled at his partner''s talk of bubbles. He shrugged. "I dunno, Mikey. The boss said to keep'' em in after hours, but he ain''t say nothin'' about restrictin'' visitors."

    Them? Was he talking about people behind the fence?

    "Ya serious, Jimmie?" Mikey eyed us with utmost suspicion. "You don''t think they up to no good?"

    "Naw. What do they rich folks want from the bottom dwellers of Ellis?" Jimmie laughed. "They''re just curious, tha''s all, and I respect curiosity. Go on in then, your highnesses. Watch your valuables, now. Those bottom dwellers know a gold mine when they see one."

    Mikey released the padlock, eyeing us like he was a prison guard and us his prisoners. Then he swung the gate open and let us pass.

    I walked in with buzzing nerves and took in the scene before me.

    If Ellis was Heaven, the place Mikey referred to as Corrum Pier was Hell. There were no paved roads, no sparkling travellators, no carefully landscaped gardens or glittering lights. Instead, dirt paths led to mud huts thatched with straw; living skeletons ambled about the place with burlap sacks on their backs, hoisting crates of raw diamonds onto wheelbarrows, and dragging wheelbarrows across mud to the stainless steel lifts that went to the surface. Corrum Pier''s citizens moved like ants in a rusty clockwork, trudging from the harbor to the shiny lift landings. Mud ponds surrounded the area, and shards of glass peppered the ground like diamonds. I put my shoes back on to avoid cuts, and felt instantly ridiculous to be wearing satin, bejeweled heels in a place like this.

    Corrum Pier circled around Ellis'' core mountain on which The Olympians perched, its circumference lined with Ellis'' other twelve mountains. The dense fog that covered it seemed to leech the life out of everything it obscured. If Fabe were here, he would say Corrum Pier looked like a huge, rotten donut, and I would agree.

    The lifts were out of bounds to the dwellers of Corrum Pier; the guards standing by made sure of that. Instead, the goods were rolled to a line drawn across the sand, and the guards took over from there, pushing carts into the lift, looking at the dwellers as if they were filthy rats that mustn''t touch the pristine steel. The guards were dressed in the same black-white uniform as Mikey and Jimmie stationed at the gates, except they wore gas masks for the stench rising up from the ground. Besides the guns and batons holstered in their belts, they brandished electronic tablets, ticking off goods as they were carted to the surface.

    We had descended upon a land of hardship from a polished Eden, much like how Greek gods descended from Mount Olympus upon human land. Perhaps Achilles was trying to be poetic.

    Tem and I walked around in silence. We were mostly ignored by the citizens, except for a few blank stares by children who were scrubbing clothes in basins or drawing with sticks in the sand. The guards shot us bitter looks, scorning our access to the surface and our rich clothing.

    "Are you ready to go?" Tem asked after we had walked a full circle.

    I nodded mutely.

    Tem led the way back to the gates, and I made sure to lag behind so he wouldn''t see what I was about to do. With nimble fingers, I loosened the knot that secured the moneybag tucked into my waist ribbon. Then, making sure the guards weren''t looking, I tossed it through a random open window, from which the smell of cabbage soup wafted through.

    There was a faint gasp, a quick rustling, then silence.

    Without a second glance, I padded after Tem. We knocked on the gate and said our names through the slot. Jimmie and Mikey unlocked the gate and opened it, sneering.

    "Enjoy your little tour?" Jimmie asked.

    I was too sick to answer.

    "That''s what I thought."

    Together, Tem and I climbed the steps that broke through the fog and into mountainous air that carried the sting of peppermint.

    I followed Tem wordlessly to the booth in the ballroom, willing my body to warm up, even though my heart had been frozen solid.

    Keenan was in the booth, his eyes closed.

    "Keenan, where''s Lea?" I asked.

    Keenan stirred, and I realized he''d been sleeping. "Ash? Trout, did I fall asleep?"

    "It appears so," said Tem grimly.

    "Where''s Lea?" I repeated, panic gripping my heart.

    "What a party," said Fabe, popping through the veil red-faced and waving his arms in the air like a banshee. "Are we having fun yet?"

    "Is Marylea behind you?" I asked urgently. "Please say yes."

    "No, I wandered off to get a drink," Fabe slurred. "I thought she was with you guys."

    Panic jolted my heart. "Keen," I said, exasperation creeping in my voice, "tell me you know where she is."

    Keenan''s face had drained of all blood. "Marylea went to the ladies and said she''d meet me back here..."

    "How long ago was that?" I asked.

    "I don''t know. Trout, I''m so sorry..."

    Dread sunk into me like a cannonball. I glanced at Tem. His eyes widened and he shook his head.

    "Marylea''s missing," I said out loud. My fingertips went numb with shock. "Spread out."

    First, we sent WOT messages to everyone in the Aragonian party, including Captain Maherty and Prince Ralf, but no one responded. What happened next was a messy whirlwind of panic, distress, strobe lights, pole dancers slithering up and down, people yelling when they won or lost, the repetitive cha-chink of slot machines, screaming feet trapped in pointy shoes, and an omnipresent haze. At one point I must have gotten sick of my pinching shoes, yanked them off and flung them into a fountain, for at the end of the night I was barefoot.

    After we had searched the mountain and not found so much as a strand of Lea''s fiery hair, Keenan suggested she might be back in our rooms. Hoping against hope, we ran across a sparkling travellator to the middle mountain.

    The corridor to our room was covered in a plush blue carpet that made me feel like I was running across a marshy swamp. Keenan ran ahead of us, his midnight Caval trailing behind him. Every step I took seemed like a step closer to being forced to abdicate. Ashling, Crown Princess, has proved herself time and time again incapable of guarding a single person. Useless. Untrustworthy. Unfit to rule a Kingdom. Perhaps I should''ve left my tiara at the bottom of the lake.

    As my bitter thoughts stung my throat, Keenan skidded to a halt a few doors before my and Lea''s room. He looked into the room on the left, and turned to us, his eyes wide as a barn owl''s.

    "She''s in there," he whispered.

    My breath caught. Had we really found her?

    We ran to the doorway and peered in. It was dim but for the glow of the aquarium wall; this one had jellyfish bobbing in iridescent colors. Marylea was splayed across a king-sized bed, her head tilted to its side like that of roadkill. A streak of red was splashed across her dress. A shadow was cast over her by a dark figure who had three feathers sticking out of the turban on his head.

    My mouth was dry. "Ralf?"

    Prince Ralf jolted and spun around to meet my wide eyes. He was still fully dressed in his maharajah costume.

    "What''re you doing?" I whispered.

    I couldn''t see Ralf''s eyes; they were concealed by inky pools of shadow. "I''m helping to undress her so she may sleep in clean clothes." He straightened. "Her dress is dirty."

    "What is that?" I asked, pointing at the red stain that slashed across Marylea''s bodice.

    "Red wine. She spilled some on herself."

    Ralf was standing by the bed, frigid, hands open and slightly raised as if surrendering. A stern innocence was plastered across his face. Of course he was just undressing her because it was dirty. She would have a shift underneath, anyway. Everything would be decent.

    "Is she all right?" I asked.

    "Yes, just a little intoxicated."

    Keenan stepped into the room wearing an expression more bitter than frostbite. "''A little'' is a gross understatement."

    Prince Ralf sighed. "Sorry. We might''ve gotten carried away with the refreshments."

    A round object sailed through the room and crashed into the aquarium wall. Prince Ralf jumped away from the bed, his large eyes accusing.

    "Fabe!" I grabbed Fabe''s arm to prevent him from hauling a candelabra.

    "You dirty scum," growled Fabe. "Did you or did you not receive our WOT messages?"

    Prince Ralf extended his wrist to show his WOT watch, its screen cracked into a broken web. "Someone slammed my hand into the wall. The crystal splintered like a chopstick."

    "Why didn''t you take her to her room?" Tem asked.

    "I didn''t have your room key." Prince Ralf frowned. "What is all this? Is this an interrogation?"

    "I don''t believe you," said Keenan. He stood still as a column, glaring at Prince Ralf as if he was Zeus who''d had his thunderbolts stolen.

    Prince Ralf looked at me. "You believe me, don''t you, Ash?"

    My throat went dry.

    "Don''t you?"

    I took a deep breath, but couldn''t bring myself to answer. All the evidence pointed to one thing, and one thing only.

    Ralf stared at me for a whole minute, then stomped his foot. "Are you kidding me? After all our years of friendship, you think I would --" He bit his lip.

    I felt like a cobra had tightened around my throat. All that came out of me was a dry rasp. "The Ralf I knew is gone. I feel like I don''t know you anymore." I exhaled, and turned to look at the carpet. "Keenan, would you please carry Marylea into my room?"

    Keenan trudged forward and hoisted Marylea into his arms.

    "After all these years, Ash," said Prince Ralf. "I would''ve thought -"

    "Stop," I repeated. "I won''t hear it."

    "You deserted me!" Prince Ralf pulled his turban off and tossed it to the floor, leaving his head a ruffled birds'' nest. "You left me all alone in that dreadful castle, with people who didn''t care if I lived or died!"

    "Enough excuses. You''ve changed!" I cried.

    "No, Ash. You''ve changed," he retorted. "The Ash I knew would back me up. Now you and your goody-two-shoes friends think you''re so much better than me. I know what you say behind my back. That I''m spoiled rotten, a waste of life. Squandering my coins with Achilles the pompous ass. As if you spent enough time with me to know."

    I narrowed my eyes and drew a long breath to drive the white flashes away. Yes, I''d spent a lot less time with Ralf since I''d known Tem. But I''d invited him to our games, haven''t I? I''ve invited him to Knight School to have a friendly duel. But he never wished to participate in our rough housing. We''d become two different people, so why was he pinning this on me?

    "Goodbye, Prince Ralf." I closed the door quietly behind me and we marched down the corridor to our room. He did not open the door.

    "Stars, she''s totally wasted," Keenan mumbled as Marylea''s head lolled and she swayed in his arms. His human baggage reeked of alcohol. Marylea''s large dress skirt threatened to trip Keenan and send both of them flying, so I had to lift her train. We got in the room and Keenan laid her on the bed.

    "I knew he was no good," Templeton said, eyes flashing.

    "We should report him," said Keenan. His hood was down for the first time that evening, revealing his ink black hair and pallor.

    "For what?" I said. "We can''t prove anything."

    "He was going to -" Fabe clenched his fists. "You know what he was going to do, Ash."

    I folded my arms to shield myself from the boys'' angry tirade, and also to calm myself. "I don''t know what he was doing. None of us can say for sure."

    "You know, there have been rumors back in the castle about maidservants sneaking from the royal wing at night," Templeton said.

    "That means nothing," I said.

    "It does so," said Fabe.

    "Even so, it must''ve been consensual."

    Templeton sighed in frustration. "Why are you defending him?"

    I hugged myself harder. Because it was much easier to believe Ralf, my childhood compadre, wasn''t a monster.

    "Aha!" Fabe cried, as if getting a brainwave. "We can ask Marylea what happened after she wakes up. Perhaps she''ll be able to tell us something about the Prince."

    "That''ll work," said Templeton.

    I felt a stab of fear. That was when I realized I''d suspected Ralf all along, and a wave of nausea gripped me. Was I right to suspect my friend of such a heinous deed?

    I didn''t want Marylea to wake up. I didn''t want to hear what she had to say.

    Keenan glanced at Marylea. "Well, she probably won''t be up until well into tomorrow afternoon. We should all go to bed and come back tomorrow."

    "That''s all we can do, I guess," said Templeton. He reached out to touch my head, and I didn''t try to avoid it. He stroked my hair as if apologizing for Ralf''s behavior. "Get some sleep. We''ll see you tomorrow."

    I didn''t look up to meet his gaze. "I''ll be here."

    The three men left the room, leaving me in a room so silent my ears rang. Nonchalant fishes drifted past the window. I felt strangely conflicted, like a sea of magma had crashed into an ocean and turned into rock that clogged me up inside.

    "Unn..." groaned Marylea again. "Kee-nan."

    Marylea''s sleep talk pinched a smile out of me. Silly, lovestruck girl. How lucky must one be to be able to throw yourself wholeheartedly into a relationship? No responsibilities, no complications, no duties to fulfill. Just pure, unadulterated love. I touched the spot on my head that Tem had touched, and quivered.

    I tucked Marylea into the bed as snug as she could, then stripped off my dress, put on a night shift, and crawled into my bed.

    When I finally managed to fall asleep, I dreamt of Templeton, Keenan and Fabe wielding steel swords, each donning shiny NeoAlum armor. They stood outside Prince Ralf''s door, pounding and shouting profanities. When Prince Ralf opened the door, his hair rumpled and eyes wide, Templeton''s blade went right through Prince Ralf''s chest, and the blank expression in his eyes was the last thing I saw before I woke up with a jolt, trembling.

    ***

    "She''s stirring."

    Fabe waved the smelling salts under Marylea''s nose. It took a few more waves of the glass bottle before Marylea''s eyelids fluttered open.

    "Ow. My head," she moaned, bringing her hands up to cradle her crown.

    "You shouldn''t have drunk so much," Keenan chided like a nanny.

    "Oww..."

    "Will she be well enough to answer our questions?" asked Templeton.

    "Shh. Not so fast," I replied.

    Marylea turned to stare at Keenan with wondrous eyes. Then she gave a cry of horror and grabbed the blankets, pulled them over her head and squealed.

    Keenan looked flabbergasted and looked at me with a panicked confusion.

    "Shh," I said. "Come, Marylea, lower the sheets."

    Like a child afraid of the boogeyman, Marylea slowly brought the sheets to her shoulders.

    "Why is everyone in here?" she croaked.

    "We have a few questions about what happened last night," said Templeton.

    "Last...night?" Marylea winced, like the effort it took to remember yesterday''s happenings was drilling a hole in her skull. "It''s all a blur. Ow..."

    I crouched over her defensively. "Tem..."

    Tem''s lips were a taut line. "We need to know the truth."

    "What truth?"

    "The truth about what happened between you and Prince Ralf last night."

    Marylea''s eyes widened, and she looked at Keenan with an alarmed expression. "What d''you think could''ve happened?"

    I sat on Marylea''s bedside. "Marylea, we found you in Prince Ralf''s room last night. You were knocked out, and he was, well - about to undress you because your dress was dirty."

    Marylea looked scandalized. "Undress me?" Her brow creased like an accordion. "Oh. I remember. I was waiting for Keenan outside the restrooms, and next thing I knew, I was floating in a boat along a canal like the one in the Venetian with Achilles and his friends. Oh, wait, you don''t know what that is..."

    "The Venetian in Las Vegas?" asked Keenan.

    "Yes, that''s the one." Marylea stared at Keenan. "Have you heard of Vegas?"

    "I''ve read books about it. What else happened last night?"

    "We took a boat ride down the canal. Achilles and his friends were giving me a grand tour." She grabbed her head. "Ow, ow, ow."

    "Sounds like he duped your drink," Templeton said matter-of-factly. "You''ve got a pretty bad hangover there."

    "Duped? He wouldn''t have done that. He was...nice to me." She looked at Keenan, guilty as a ferret. "One of Achilles'' friends spilled his wine on me while we were on the boat, Hephaestus, I think his name was, and he offered his room for me to change, but Ralf insisted taking me into his room instead."

    "And you let him?" Fabe asked, flabbergasted.

    Marylea went pale. "He seemed so earnest. And I had such a headache..."

    "You''ve got to be careful around people, Lea," said Fabe. "Quit being so trusting."

    Offense flashed across Marylea''s hazel eyes. "Ralf is all right. We just had too much to drink. Glasses shoved at us every step of the way. You remember that, right?" She shot Keenan an expectant look.

    "What''s the last thing you remember?" Keenan asked.

    "Fishes."

    Tem sighed. "There''s nothing we can do now," he said, "except to stick to Lea like super glue and keep Ralf and Achilles away from her."

    "I believe Ralf is innocent," I said. Relief invigorated me as the words passed my lips. I hadn''t noticed how much my mind and soul wanted to believe he was innocent, and now, listening to Marylea''s side of the story, I do.

    Marylea''s head bobbed. "Ralf wouldn''t have done anything to me."

    Fabe sighed and shook his head. "What is it that the Prince has over you women?"

 Chapter 7

    The remainder of our week in Ellis was a mix of torture and bliss. The blissful part was that we had unlimited food, free time and wall full of swimming fish. The torturous bit was where we were forced to attend most, if not all, the events at the Shaper''s Conference. The Royal Council had rejected our request to return early, saying we were to make the most of our trip. Captain Maherty was tasked to watch us.

    The events included presentations by Shapers of their own advances, which easily turned into a boasting party (Giddy Pig of Nintie announced all their roads and pavements now harnessed solar energy, reinforcing their energy independence, Ollie of Kirin said they had successfully cloned a flock of sheep, An Ja of Sterne said a new hydroelectric plant was up and running; more dinner parties; and talks by Achilles about the "right way" to rule a Kingdom as a Shaper ("There must be a balance of classes for a truly efficient society.") As he spoke, my mind drifted to Corrum Pier and I nearly lost my day''s meal. Throughout the rest of the week, we made our best attempts to avoid Achilles as much as possible.

    Prince Ralf refused to speak to us. Not that the others were very much interested in speaking to him. Fabe insisted he was avoiding us because of guilt, but my conflicted heart knew it was something else. He felt betrayed.

    Several times I''d called out to him, and he always ducked into the crowd or a bend. I saw anger and disappointment emanating from his taut shoulders and bent head. I didn''t blame him. I would be angry with me, too.

    A week later, we landed light as a feather while the sun retired in Aragonia. I resisted the urge to jump to my feet and hug everyone on board ¨C it felt so good to be home.

    We had barely touched ground when Marylea squealed and pointed in the distance.

    "Look," she said. "There''s a gathering in that square."

    "It''s Harvest Day," said Keenan. "The day Spriarweed farmers celebrate a good harvest."

    Marylea perked up. "Is it like a fair?"

    "We need to report back to the royal council," said Tem. "They''re waiting for us."

    Keenan touched Marylea''s arm. "We can go after we report."

    Marylea''s spirits dampened. "The sun''s setting. The festivities might be over then."

    "I''ll take her," I said. "We''ll take the hoverboards from the Loki and be there and back in minutes."

    Marylea gave me a winning smile. Keenan looked uncertain. "Be careful."

    I laughed. What could go wrong at a Harvest Festival?

    We rode on hoverboards to Lily Square. Marylea took quickly to riding hers, and I decided she didn''t need to know about the weeks I''d taken to master it. On our way, Marylea marveled over the Aragonian countryside.

    "Where I come from," she said, her fiery hair blazing behind her, "we don''t have meadows or open sky. Everywhere we go there are skyscrapers, paved roads, and highways." She inhaled deeply. "Country air is so sweet. You know, the sweetest air I''ve encountered was that in the Island of Skye. But it still cannot compare."

    I swelled with pride for Aragonia. "I''m glad you like it here."

    I liked Marylea. I liked her enthusiasm for everything new, and how she took to everyone in a heartbeat. She wore her heart on a sleeve, and though I didn''t recommend that habit, I found it endearing nonetheless. No doubt that was one of the many reasons Keenan gave his heart away when no other girl qualified.

    A faint buzzing could be heard as we approached Lily Square. I allowed excitement to bubble in me; the last time I''d been to a festival was years ago, with Tem. His parents had set up a stall selling glassware; his mother had been a glass artist before becoming a farmer.

    All feelings of happiness fleeted away, however, when we neared Lily Square and found the real cause of the buzzing. Instead of the joyous festivities we were expecting, we found the villagers disgruntled, anxious and debating among themselves. Fair stands were set up but not decorated or stocked. The carnival games and rides were missing.

    We hovered on the outskirts, picking up on snippets of conversation.

    "I don''t understand how it could''ve happened."

    "- Shaper, she just arrived a few days ago -"

    " - tell the Royal Council, maybe they''ll -"

    "They know nothing, and if they do, they''ll only cover it up."

    My fingers gripping the hoverboard handles went cold. I turned to Marylea. "Maybe we should go."

    She looked at me with puzzlement. "Don''t you want to find out what happened?"

    My instincts told me Marylea needed to get out of there as soon as possible. "We can find out later," I said, and began to pull my handle to turn around. "Follow m- Marylea! Stop - where''re you going?"

    Marylea had accelerated towards the center of the square, where most of the villagers were gathered.

    "Mother of trout," I cursed, and sped after her.

    As we neared the congregation, the whirr of our hoverboards became evident and they turned their attention to us.

    "It''s the Shaper!" a bearded man exclaimed.

    A rotund lady clasped her heart. "She has the nerve to come here."

    "Hey, look, it''s the Princess."

    "Great. She can lock the Shaper away for good."

    My legs almost buckled from fear. That same fear told me Marylea should not stay.

    "Marylea," I whispered through gritted teeth. "You need to go. I''ll handle this."

    Marylea hovered next to me, looking uncertain.

    "Put her in chains!" one of the villagers yelled. "She has brought evil to our land."

    I raised my hands from the handlebar. "Please, settle down. Tell me what happened."

    "Arrest her!"

    "Seize her!"

    The people pumped their fists in the air, crying for murder.

    Trepidation crawled into my gut. "Marylea, time to go."

    "I don''t understand -"

    "Hey Shaper!" Someone cried. I turned to the direction of his voice and saw a scruffy young man holding a crossbow. "How would you like to leave Aragonia forever?"

    Shock and fear coursed through me. My hand shot out. "Don''t!"

    His finger was poised to pull the trigger. "Dare me," he sneered.

    I gripped the handlebars, ready to charge at him. Then I froze. The anger in his eyes had been replaced by something else ¨C fear. His jaw slackened. He lowered his crossbow towards the ground and stood there, mouth open.

    What in the world? I turned to Marylea. Her face was tight. She looked straight into the crossbow man''s eyes, unflinching. In her hands was a grenade.

    "I will use this," she whispered. "Don''t make me. Everyone, put down your weapons and put your hands in the air."

    The mob obeyed. Each one of them put their arms in the air.

    This was the first time they''d been threatened by Marylea. I had a sinking feeling this didn''t bode well for her likability. I myself was paralyzed with fear. Marylea hadn''t seemed like the type to tote a live grenade. For a second I began to doubt her sanity. Would she really throw that grenade into the crowd?

    I nudged Marylea. "Go," I hissed. "Lea, go!"

    I nearly collapsed with relief as Marylea swerved and high-tailed it out of there. A vase smashed at the foot of my hovercraft, and the shards spilled across the cobblestone floor. My heart stopped.

    "She''s a terrorist!" cried the crowd. "She''ll kill us all!"

    "Citizens of Aragonia -" I began.

    "Shut your high trap!" someone shouted. "Get the Shaper!"

    Seeing that there was no reasoning with them, I grabbed the handlebars and kicked into full gear. The hoverboard whined as I pulled it around and stomped on the accelerator. Then I sped away from the mauling crowd, their cries ringing in my ears. The road back to the castle seemed never-ending.

    "They''re chasing us!" cried Marylea.

    I turned around. Sure enough, a crowd was running after us like a stampeding herd of startled bison. Our hoverboards were too quick for them, but they looked ready to storm the castle.

    The first rebellion since the Dark Days.

    I tapped the screen of my watch so it woke, and tapped a quick message to Tem. Mob headed castle. Get ready.

    He must''ve relayed the message, for Aragonian knights, balancing on hoverboards, met us by the castle walls.

    "Angry mob," I gasped. "Coming this way."

    One of the knights flicked his visor up and I looked into the most beautiful hazel eyes.

    "Head right in. It''s safe there," Tem said. "We got this."

    I smiled. "I know you do." I nodded at the tall knight next to Tem, whom I knew was Trevain from the seasoned sword hanging from his waist, and headed through the open doors. The doors slammed shut behind us. We hovered by the doors, listening for activity. Soon came a buzz, which evolved into angry shouts.

    "Come, Lea," I said. "We need you back in the castle, where security is tightest."

    "I''m sorry," Marylea said. Her face was a picture of fear and guilt. "This is all my fault. I shouldn''t have come here."

    I shook my head solemnly. This wasn''t the time for self-pity. "Stop it. You didn''t have a choice."

    Marylea''s voice was raspy as she spoke. "But I did. My mother left. I should''ve done the same thing."If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    I felt like someone had tipped an ice bucket over my head. "So it''s true. Your mother did find a way to leave us. To stop entering the Realm." I touched Marylea''s right arm. "How did she do it?"

    Marylea looked alarmed. "I don''t know. She refuses to tell me or talk to me at all about the Realm." She looked at her arm. It was pink where my fingers gripped her. I released her sheepishly. "Sorry."

    "It''s all right," said Marylea. "I just wanted to say - I didn''t mean to - you know -" She looked sadly at the evil thing she still clutched in her hands. The grenade was greenish-bronze, with a slightly rusted ring. The sight of it brought bile to my throat. I had never seen a grenade except in history books about war in the Other Place. Dreadful, terrible wars.

    Marylea noticed my gaze. "I don''t know what to do with this. I can''t unshape things."

    So it was live. What was Marylea thinking, shaping a live grenade?

    "The Royal Council will decide," I said.

    Goosebumps erupted throughout my body. I didn''t want to think about what Marylea had just done. I swallowed, thinking of something to say. My throat was dry as a desert.

    Then my WOT beeped. An emergency message icon popped up again. I''d been getting a lot of those since Marylea arrived. I tapped on the screen to confirm receipt. A chill spread through my body. Surely they had already learnt of the rebellion. I pictured my father''s disappointed stare, Makerholf''s solemn gaze. Watch after one girl: that was all I had to do. No one could''ve predicted how miserably I would fail.

    With a lump in my throat, I gestured for Marylea to follow me. "We''ll talk later. Come on."

    ***

    Loud arguments were muffled through the closed oak doors of the Conferenz Room. Bill''s ostentatious voice pounded against my ear drums as Marylea and I approached.

    "For Aragonia''s internal stability, we need to send her away now. I''m not risking another rebellion because of one girl."

    Makerholf''s voice, steady as a boulder, overrode Bill''s. "Calm down, Bill. We don''t know it was because of her."

    "Are you pissing me, Makerholf? Why else would something like that happen?"

    I held my breath and rapped on the door. All voices ceased. I pushed the doors open. Marylea trailed behind me mutely. I saw that Tem and Trevain were at the meeting; the mob must have dispersed.

    "Are you talking about the mob?" I asked. "We''re sorry, we -"

    Bill threw his arms in the air. "We have more serious things to worry about than a puny mob."

    My gaze met Tem''s. He sat rigidly, with both palms face down on the table. His eyes were swimming with confusion. "Tem, what is he -"

    "Tell her, Tem," said the King.

    Tem''s face was sullen. "Someone disappeared in Lily Square. Eye witnesses said he vaporized into dust. We got at least five eyewitness accounts."

    My jaw fell slack. "Vaporized? What''d you mean, vaporized?"

    Bill cut in. "Turned into swirls of gold dust, was what they said. Gold dust. Does that sound familiar to any of you?" His almond-shaped eyes flitted to Marylea.

    Behind me, Marylea jumped to her own defense. "I was with Ash. I couldn''t have done it."

    Bill narrowed his eyes. "Who said you needed to be there to do it?"

    Marylea''s voice cracked. "W-what''d you think I am, some kind of wizard?"

    Bill pointed an accusing finger at her. "See, she''s panicking."

    Keenan stood. "Marylea didn''t do it. She was with us the whole time before."

    "Be quiet, Royal Historian." He looked like the last word left an unsavory taste on his tongue.

    Prince Ralf, who was leaning back against his chair with his arms behind his head, said coolly, "Bill does have a point, you know. No one else could''ve done it."

    "I''m innocent," said Marylea. She turned to me with wide, fearful eyes. "You believe me, don''t you, Ash?"

    I didn''t hesitate. "Of course I do." My mouth was still dry as stale cake; I still had trouble believing such a thing had really happened.

    "What of the mob?" I asked. "Have they been appeased?"

    Bill scoffed, like the mob was the last of his worries.

    "The people have returned to their homes," said Makerholf. "But the peace won''t last long. Something must be done."

    I cocked my head. "Something like what?"

    Trevain looked to the King to continue. My father looked wearier than usual, which I didn''t think was possible. His eyes drooped at the sides. His lips were downturned.

    My father straightened and brushed off his red cloak. "We have decided that Marylea shall marry our most suitable bachelor in order to appease the public."

    "Oh." Marylea''s lips curled slightly, and I could tell she was trying to conceal her excitement. Her eyelashes fluttered. "And who will that be?"

    The King spoke slowly and clearly. "Templeton."

    A deafening ringing took my ears by storm. I suddenly felt light-headed and numb, like I was submerged in gel. I wobbled on my feet. My hands instinctively reached out and grabbed Marylea''s arm to prevent falling.

    Tem looked shell-shocked. His eyes were wide when he looked at me, as if begging me to believe that he had no part in it. "No one told me this." He turned to his uncle. "Were you aware of this, Uncle?"

    Trevain looked equally dumbstruck. "No. I only knew Dimitri had a plan. Dimitri, you haven''t told the public about this, have you?"

    My father''s eyes widened. "I have. It was urgent and had to be dealt with. Why? Does no one approve? I understand this is last notice, but rest assured, Templeton, that this will only be a marriage in name. Once things have calmed down -"

    The words burst from my mouth before I could control them. "But what about Keenan? Why didn''t you wed her to Keenan instead? Why Tem?" My throat burned; I swallowed, hard, to keep my voice from breaking. I felt overwhelming anger, like I was a kettle about to boil over. How could my own father have not seen? Was he that blind?

    My father looked at me like I''d vomited slugs. "Why, Ashling, I was under the impression that you and Keenan..." His voice trailed off and he turned to Keenan, who now looked paler than a ghost. "Did you not say that you couldn''t marry Marylea because you were in love with my daughter?"

    A stinging silence overcame the room. Acid poured into my chest. I stared, horrified, at Keenan, who sat wordlessly.

    When Keenan spoke, his eyes were draped with a veil of sadness. "Yes, Sir, I did."

    My father looked like he''d come to a shocking realization. He looked at me, lips parted, but no words came from his mouth. He turned to look at Makerholf, who looked sickened. Makerholf, the man who shares no blood with me, knew more about me than my own father did. Why hadn''t father consulted Makerholf first?

    "I cannot withdraw what I told the public," my father said, defeated. "Or they will grow suspicious. Aragonia cannot risk another revolt. We must not sink back into the dark days."

    "So am I to wed a boy I barely know?" asked Marylea. Her voice was raspy. She looked at me, pleading. I saw something else ¨C apology. The Shaper who had arrived barely two weeks ago knew. Did everyone know about Tem and I except my father?

    "This will only be a marriage in name," said my father, his voice weak. "It will only last until the storm has passed, and we get to the bottom of the disappearance."

    Marylea took a loud breath. She turned to look at Keenan, and it suddenly dawned on me what else this meant. I''d been so preoccupied with Tem''s betrothal to someone else that I''d forgotten about Keenan and Marylea entirely.

    "Keenan," said Marylea in a low voice.

    Keenan looked at her with deep, watery eyes. "Yes?"

    "Were you only with me to keep an eye on me?"

    Keenan looked deflated and suddenly very small in his midnight Caval. His eyes were trained on the polished mahogany table.

    "I''m so sorry," he said.

    Marylea shot a look at me, her eyes as fiery as her hair. "Did you know?"

    I shook my head, my voice still lost to me. I felt like fire ants were crawling in my throat.

    Marylea blinked. A lone tear tumbled down her cheek. Then she spun on her heels and ran out of the room.

    It was that moment when I found my voice again.

    "Was that really necessary, father?" I demanded in a raspy voice. "Were Tem and I insufficient to watch over one girl? Did you have to manipulate her heart, as well?"

    Bill jumped to my father''s defense. "Your father did it so Marylea would have a weakness. A weakness we could use to control her, if need be. Keenan was our safety policy. You don''t understand how dangerous a Shaper could be; you were just a babe when Cassandra left."

    Cassandra. It was a sign of Bill''s agitation that he used our last Shaper''s name.

    "With all due respect, Dimitri," said Tem, "I cannot marry Marylea, for I am in love with your daughter."

    Ripples ran down my body like minute ocean waves, and, despite the sorry situation, a smile crept onto my lips. Finally, the words I''d so longed to hear. Marry a prince, if not a chancellor, be damned.

    Then I remembered his impending engagement and my happy waves crashed onto jagged shores.

    My father looked like a large boulder was on a rampage towards him. He stood speechless, and seemed lost as he looked at me, Tem, and Keenan. "I''m sorry," he finally said. "I cannot withdraw what I told the populace."

    "Sorry, Ash," Makerholf said. "It will only be a marriage in name." His eyes were filled with sadness, but there was something else - resolution. There would be no fighting this.

    I felt everyone''s stares digging into my skin, especially Tem and Keenan''s. I could not look at either of them. One held my heart, and I apparently had the other''s. Instead, I looked right at my father.

    "I hope your plan works out," I said. "Nothing is more important than the safety of our kingdom." I had meant it, yet it sounded like I didn''t. I didn''t know what I felt anymore.

    Unable to uphold my brave act, I spun and walked briskly from the room. I took a few steps on the soft carpet in the corridor, then broke into a run.

    Tears fogged my sight. I blinked and wiped my tears clumsily off my face. My feet carried me as fast as they would go without stumbling. Fireflies buzzed in their lamps lining the corridor without a care in the world, and for the first time ever I wished I was a firefly, so all I needed to worry about was to eat and produce light.

    I arrived at my room, fumbled with my keys, cursed and swore. The door finally opened. I swung it open and slammed it shut.

    Only then did I collapse against the door and start bawling into my knees.

    ***

    "Ash, please talk to me. I hate seeing you so uncomfortable."

    Uncomfortable didn''t even begin to describe it. My heart was thumping in my throat, my stomach tied in knots. Yet Keenan''s plea sounded so sad, it tugged at my heart strings. He didn''t deserve a cold front.

    I looked up into his watery grey eyes and pulled the corners of my lips into a smile. "I''m not uncomfortable. Just concentrating."

    We were in the library, in a failing attempt to resume lessons. The air in the library felt heavier than usual, as if the tension between us had seeped into it. The warmth from the fireplace failed to reach me.

    Keenan''s brow furrowed. The flickering light from the fire danced on the shadows cast upon his face. "Your eyes haven''t moved since I asked you to read Chapter Seven."

    I rubbed my eyes. "Sorry. I''m just tired. All this wedding preparation going on, I ¨C" A lump formed in my throat, and I couldn''t continue, like my lips had seized up from drinking a vial of glue. I coughed, hoping that would bring my voice back. It didn''t.

    "Ash." Keenan sighed. "I know what this is about. It''s about last week. The emergency meeting."

    My instinct was to play dumb, but I knew it would be pointless. I placed my hand on the open book before me and brushed a browned page corner with my thumb. "Keenan, I don''t want to talk about that right now."

    "But we must. You can''t avoid me forever. I''m your tutor."

    I stared at the browned pages of Aragonian Chronicles: How the Spriarweed Changed History and read the first line I saw: "Once a pesky weed, the Spriarweed used to be uprooted in droves to prevent them from leeching the nutrients from the soil of cotton crops..."

    "If you won''t talk about it, I will." Keenan reached over and snapped my book shut. I sat back and stared at him with wide eyes, confused as to whether I should feel angry or not.

    "When your father asked me to flirt with Marylea, the first thing I thought about was you. But I knew what you and Tem had. I knew I had no chance. So I agreed."

    I fixed my gaze on his weary eyes and said softly, "You cheated a young girl of her heart."

    Keenan''s shoulders slouched under his midnight Caval. "I''m not proud of it," he said. "But if it would protect this Kingdom, protect you - I would do it. So I did."

    Goosebumps trailed across my skin. I pulled Aragonian Chronicles: How the Spriarweed Changed History towards me and clung to it, as if it would keep me grounded.

    "Making Marylea fall in love with me would ensure the safety of this Kingdom," he continued. "Because if she had a flight of fancy and gained a rebellious streak, your father could use me to threaten her. Do you understand?"

    "What would he have done?" I asked, not keeping the bitterness out of my voice. "Thrown you into jail until she rescinded?"

    "No," Keenan said. "He would''ve pretended to throw me into jail."

    I bit my lip. "We all know Marylea is no threat."

    "We do now," said Keenan. "But we didn''t then."

    "Are you really defending yourself right now?"

    Keenan lowered his eyes. "No. I do not deny I am ashamed. I only wanted you to understand."

    "Marylea did not deserve that."

    "No, she didn''t."

    We fell into silence.

    "I didn''t want this to happen," said Keenan softly. "I didn''t want things to become awkward between us. I only ¨C I only told your father the truth because I didn''t want to marry someone I didn''t love. A part of me ¨C this may... sound stupid ¨C but a part of me still harbored hope."

    I drew a deep breath. This conversation brought back the thought that Tem was marrying someone else. It stung. Badly. That, and guilt ¨C guilt that I would never reciprocate Keenan''s feelings. I looked at his handsome, fair face, the emotion welling in his eyes. Yet all I felt was brotherly affection. He had never been more than a brother to me. Had I been sending the wrong signals?

    "I love you. I always have, since you walked into my library five years ago. I loved how you were full of fire for your Kingdom, how your hope for the Realm shone in your eyes. I loved how you were brave, kind and never condescending. I loved how you saw the best in everyone but never yourself. I never dreamt of confessing my feelings to you, but..." His voice trailed off.

    "You don''t love me," I said in a raspy voice. "You mustn''t, and you cannot. I ¨C"

    "I do, with every inch of my soul. And I''m sorry. It was a slow, gradual fall, and by the time I noticed, it was too late, and I could only fall further..."

    I wiped frustrated tears from my eyes. "You cannot love me! Don''t you understand? I''ll never love you back!"

    It sounded much worse than what I''d meant. I cannot love you back because my heart is already taken. Yet the words played in my head again and again, and the more they played, the more I regretted spitting those words out in panic.

    Keenan''s response was quiet, defeated. "That I know."

    I suddenly felt so selfish, so disgusted with myself. Did I have to say such hurtful words to make him stop? I wanted to explain, to put my hand on his arm and say sorry for everything I''d said, everything I did. But my emotional reservoir could only hold so much. When it was full to the brim and overflowing over the banks, I had one thought on my mind: run, like a spineless coward.

    I pushed the book away from me and stood. "I''m sorry, Keenan. I don''t feel well. We''ll continue this lesson in the future."

    Keenan got up. "Ash, I''m sorry it happened this way. I never meant ¨C"

    "Excuse me," I said, moving a step back, and feeling like someone had kicked me in the gut. "I don''t feel well."

    I left Keenan sitting by the study desk, next to the licking fire, and exited his dark, damp library.

 Chapter 8

    When did I realize I loved Templeton Iorwerth, future Head Knight of Aragonia? It is hard to say. Perhaps it was when I started looking forward to our duels, because I had an excuse to be close to him; perhaps it was when my chest glowed with warmth whenever he was near, because he was my shining sun; perhaps it was the way my heart trilled when he looked at me ever so softly; perhaps it was the fact that I would die for him.

    When did I realize he loved me?

    I hadn''t, not for the longest time. A part of me hoped he didn''t, for duty would always come first, and duty would never allow me to marry someone not of royalty or nobility. Yet another part yearned with every inch of me that he did. Then one a hot summer''s day, when I was thirteen and he was fifteen, and we were at a fancy dinner party thrown to celebrate some triumph or another, a pretty girl dressed in shimmering silks asked Tem to dance with her. Her cheeks blushed like perfect apples, and her eyes sparkled like dew. I remembered taking a deep breath to quench the rising fire within me as she touched his shoulder and almost whispered, "Care for a dance?"

    To date I still don''t know who she was or what she was named. All I remembered was Tem glancing at me ¨C a quick, subconscious glance ¨C and then he turned to the girl and said, "Sorry, I''m not much of a dancer."

    Her lips had pouted ever so slightly, but she wasn''t about to give up. Not with the strapping future Head Knight, dressed in his brand new fitted Caval. "How about a drink?"

    He shook his head lightly. "I''m afraid not."

    He did not flinch from her stare, even as her gaze morphed from a loving one to a furious glare. Then, barely concealing her anger, she''d said, "Your loss, Knight." And she''d stormed off.

    I took a generous gulp from my glass to try and quell my nerves. "Why did you reject her?" I asked over my racing heart.

    Tem raised his eyebrows and looked at me, and like every other time, I felt I had access into his deepest desires. You know why.

    "Remember at the last midsummer''s ball, when you asked me to dance?" he asked.

    I took another gulp of punch. My skin started to tingle. "Yes."

    "And you said we were so good on the dance floor, we should never dance with anyone else?"

    I nodded. It was something silly I''d said in my moment of euphoria. Everything had felt so right, and as we''d danced, the rest of the ballroom merged into sparkling haze and it was just the two of us, young and fumbling, but laughing our heads off.

    He smiled. "Well, I agree."

    I''d blushed so furiously I had to down the rest of my glass and then pretend to scan the ballroom for a waiter to ask for more, just so I could hide my fiery red face away from him.

    By rejecting every suitor that came our way, I knew we were setting ourselves up for failure and despair, but we didn''t care. Anything to prolong our days together.

    Which left a question I''d been pondering over the last few days, one that filled my chest with acid and tore my heart to pieces.

    Did Templeton''s engagement mean those days were over?

    "Looking fine to-day, Miss Dircourt," Mariah said in her matronly voice, wrenching me from my daydreams and into the cold reality of my dressing room. She was gentle as she pulled, tugged and tied my corset strings, but it still felt like a viper wrapping its deadly grip around my body.

    I did not feel fine, but I thanked her anyway. Soft sunlight streamed in through the sheer white curtains, dappling the beige carpet with dancing light, yet felt drearier than a day fraught with raging thunderstorms.

    Mariah cleared her throat. "Just remember - it''s not real, eh?" She''d retained her rotund figure from when I was a child, but her brown hair now had streaks of gray. Her glasses were round and rested neatly on her nose bridge. She''d never married, and never had children, always saying I was enough.

    I nodded mutely. The buzz of wedding preparation seeped in through my window. Outside, the wedding ceremony stage was set up in the royal gardens. Someone barked for someone to "put up the gossamer," whatever that was. This wedding sure looked and felt real to me. "Yes, Mariah."Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    She finished with the corset and admired her handiwork in the mirror. I wore a blue silk dress with gold peonies in my hair. "You''ll be a stunning maid of honor," she said warmly.

    The silk dress was beautiful, and rounded out my curves - or whatever I had - quite nicely. The peonies were dazzling and complemented my fair skin and brown eyes. Yet all I saw in the mirror was a sad girl clinging onto any semblance of sanity.

    I smiled a smile that did not reach my heart.

    "Thank you, Mariah. Guess I''ll go help the bride now."

    I gave her a fleeting smile, pretended not to see her look of concern and left my bedchamber. Sympathy would break my facade.

    The Shaper Wing was crowded with staff. Someone was pulling Marylea''s corset together, and another was painting Marylea''s eyes. She stood in the middle of it all, facing a full-length mirror. She heard the doors slide open, and when she turned to look at me, her eyes went wide, and she looked like the little left of her soul had just died inside.

    "Ash," she whispered.

    Her eyes spoke a thousand words. I saw a reflection of everything I felt: shock, anger, heartbreak.

    Then she started to cry.

    "Stop it, stop, stop!" Her makeup artist cried. "Nooo, it''s not waterproof!"

    "Sorry, sorry," said Marylea between sobs. "I can''t - I can''t help it."

    Her emotions knocked me out of my daze. Suddenly, I had purpose. I dashed up to her and wrapped my arms around her. The action felt forced and awkward, but Marylea didn''t seem to notice. She was too busy sobbing into her hands. "It''s going to be okay," I said. "This isn''t real."

    Marylea turned to sob into my shoulders, ruining the golden peonies in my hair in the process. I didn''t care. She sobbed and she sobbed, letting days of pent-up frustration flood my silk dress. I patted her back. I had the overwhelming urge to cry myself, but my tear ducts seemed to have shriveled up like a pond in a desert. Perhaps they knew I had to be strong for Marylea. We couldn''t both be crying.

    When Marylea finally ran out of tears, she lifted her head from my shoulder. "Thanks, Ash. This is all so horrible. I know you and Tem..."

    "Shh." I shook my head and forced the rush of tears down. "It''s all right."

    Marylea sniffled and wiped tears off her face, smudging whatever make-up was left. "You''re like the sister I never had."

    I froze, feeling moved and honored. And the tingling inside told me I saw her as the same. But I couldn''t bring myself to return the affection right now. Not when she was getting ready to be wed to Tem.

    So I just smiled. "Let''s get you washed up, shall we? Then we can paint your face again."

    After she''d washed her face and a fresh layer of make-up was applied, I excused myself to get a costume change. Marylea gave me a lingering look as if she didn''t want me to go, so I told her I''d be right back. Truth was, I needed space from her and from everyone else. Space where I could be myself, and do what I really wanted ¨C curl up into a self-pitying ball and cry.

    My room smelt of the rose mist that Mariah had spritzed on me. Mariah had left, possibly to get ready herself. I was glad she wasn''t here. I shut the door, enveloped myself in silence, and began to do exactly what I wanted to do ¨C wail like there was no tomorrow. Tears and runny make-up caked on my face, when I heard a knock on the door. I covered my mouth to muffle my sobs and waited for whoever it was to leave.

    "Ash? Please let me in."

    My blood froze. I jumped to my feet and unlatched the door. I opened it, and there he was. Templeton, all decked out in his white-gold Caval, his brown hair pulled back into a sleek do. His eyes were slightly puffy, as if he''d been doing what I was just doing seconds ago.

    Before I knew it, we were wrapped in a tight embrace. I breathed in his scent, manly yet vulnerable, brave but kind.

    We edged into my room, not separating. I shut the door closed with a slight push.

    Tem''s fingers trailed up my neck and onto my chin. He lifted my face, slowly, to meet his. Then he lowered his lips to mine, and everything felt all right again. His breath was hot on my lips. His arms tightened around me, pulling up against him. I drew him closer and clutched his back with hungry fingers. I ran my hand through his carefully gelled hair that parted like the red sea. We were past caring. Right now it was just us, and no one else.

    Our mouths were hungry for each other, voracious. Years of dammed up emotion was released then, and we couldn''t get enough. We clung to each other, took in each other''s scent, explored each other''s bodies like our life depended upon it. We wanted to get closer, closer.

    Finally, when we grew so hot we were burning, I pulled away and looked into his smoldering gaze. My chest was exploding from passion, my heart beating a drum.

    Then the truth fell in.

    "You''re getting married," I said, and I was ready to cry again. I''d just kissed Marylea''s soon-to-be husband.

    "Ash." Tem''s hand cupped my face, and he nuzzled my cheek. "The wedding isn''t real. Neither Marylea nor I want this wedding to happen. We''re only doing it for the peace of the Kingdom."

    "I know. I just ¨C" My face scrounged into a tight, ugly ball and I sobbed into his shoulder while mine shook from crying so much. Then I started hiccuping, the way people did when their body struggled to cope with the sudden outpour of emotion.

    "Shh, it''s all right." Tem held my head against his shoulder. "I love you."

    Fireworks exploded in my chest and all thoughts of crying vanished. I wiped my tears away and I looked up at Tem''s face, searching for confirmation. "Say that again?"

    Tem''s face broke into a smile. "I love you." Then he knelt on one knee and took my hand. "Ashling Dircourt. I don''t know when I started loving you, but I loved you when I was forced to marry another, and I will always love you. One day when the Kingdom has settled, the fake marriage will be annulled, and we will be free to marry who we love. And I love you. Ash, will you marry me?"

    I stared at him, a mixture of happiness and confusion.

    "But you''re neither a prince nor a chancellor..."

    I started laughing at his blank stare. "And I don''t care. Of course I will. Yes! A million times yes." Tears crept down my cheeks, only this time they were tears of joy.

 Chapter 9

    Standing at the altar as maid-of-honor, I snuck a glance at Tem. He was dressed as a groom should be: fitted, flawless Caval, perfectly coiffed hair. But his expression was not of a groom. Behind Tem, Fabe stood grimly, looking like someone had died. I tried to catch his eye so I could give him a look that said Act happy! Then I smirked at the irony of the thought. Sitting in the front row were my father, Makerholf and Trevain, not bothering to plaster fake smiles because no one could see them anyway. Lucky them.

    Tem and I avoided each other''s gaze like a plague. Memories of our moment in my room brought flames to my face, butterflies to my stomach. But standing at the altar as the maid of honor, not the bride, still weighed heavily on my stomach.

    The royal gardens were packed with white folding chairs. A red carpet led from the entrance to the wedding arch. Bouquets of white roses, carnations, and peonies lined the aisle. White silk draped over the perfectly trimmed hedges billowed and swayed in the breeze. I wished I could yank them off their hooks and wrap them around my face so I could stop pretending.

    Judging from the people streaming in, it looked like the whole Aragonian population had shown up for the wedding of the century. There were people dressed in Cavals, plain cotton tunics, sparkling dresses, shimmering satin, burlap pants. I suspected the Aragonians had come not to celebrate, but to access for themselves the legitimacy of this shotgun wedding. And that was why I had to keep my emotions to myself. At least until the wedding was over.

    The ceremony music began: Pachelbel''s Canon in D. The bride arrived around the corner, stepping carefully on the cobblestone path. Marylea wore an elaborate white dress and a flowing veil that concealed her face. Just as well; it wouldn''t do for the Aragonians to see the tears trailing down her face.

    As I shifted in my uncomfortable pointed heels, doubts began to creep in. Poisonous, barbed doubts that spread chills throughout my body.

    What if they never found the opportunity to annul the marriage? What if the xenophobia towards Marylea never ceased, and what if Tem and Marylea stayed married for years and years, and eventually developed feelings for each other, the way long-time married couples were prone to do?

    Panic and jealousy rose inside me like molten mercury, but I clamped down on it. I must maintain composure. This was a big wedding for Aragonia. Word had spread that Marylea was like a sister to me. In the eyes of the Aragonians, I should be happy. I needed to be happy.

    The peace of Aragonia depended on it.

    Marylea arrived by my side. She avoided my gaze and Tem''s. The minister looked at both of them, cleared his throat, and started the ceremony. He asked them to recite after him, which they did.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "Do you, Marylea, vow to take Templeton your dearest husband, till death do you part."

    I swallowed the urge to retch.

    "Yes."

    For the Kingdom.

    "And do you, Templeton, vow to take Marylea your dearest wife, till death do you part?"

    Tem''s Adam''s apple bobbed unsteadily.

    I shifted my gaze to the marble floor. I couldn''t block my ears and go "LA LA LA LA" but I could direct my gaze so I didn''t have to see the Tem''s lips mouth those words. The words I''d envisioned him saying in one of my dangerous fantasies, except I was the bride, not Lea.

    Birds chirped in the willow tree overhead. Tem''s words never came. I decided to steal a glance and looked up at Tem. I was stunned to see an expression of shock frozen on his face. He held his palms open before him, staring.

    I felt a burst of inane happiness. Had he decided to put his foot down and announce to the Kingdom that this wedding would not happen, could not happen, because he was in love with someone else?

    Then I saw golden flakes drifting in the wind. They were coming from his hands. I looked at them closely, and what I saw almost made me pass out.

    Tem''s fingers were dissolving slowly, and his first finger joints were gone.

    When I was ten and Tem was twelve, we''d dared each other into a tree-climbing competition. I was on a sturdy oak, wiggling my butt at him, and he was scrambling up branches as fast as he could. He was strong, but I was fast.

    Then a sickening crack had split the air. I''d looked down and saw Tem dangling from a wobbling branch, his other limbs flailing in the air. Without a second''s thought, I''d scrambled down the tree, grabbed his hand and hoisted him onto a thick branch. It was only after the adrenaline surge had died down and I could hear over my barreling heartbeat that I''d realized what I''d done.

    Now, eight years later, instinct kicked in, the same way they had when I saw Tem dangling from a tree branch, and I darted towards the stunned groom. I cried his name out loud. I took his hands, clasped them tightly, as if that would bring his fingers back.

    Marylea stood behind me, and I only knew because I could hear her gasping, like she''d been overdosed by Achilles'' paint balls.

    Tem looked at me with wide, hazel eyes. The volume of gold dust grew - this time they came from his wrists, and more seemed to be coming from inside his Caval sleeves. The white sleeves fell slack as his arms disappeared. Then the top of his coffered brown hair whirled into gold wisps.

    His eyes widened with alarm. "I love you," he said, his voice urgent. I opened my mouth to say it back, but before I remembered how to speak, before the words would come, Tem was gone. His Caval fell into a limp heap on the floor.

    I scrunched the silky fabric in my fingers. I didn''t understand. Where did Tem go? He was just here.

    Flashes of white light crept into my vision, like white fireworks. They swallowed my vision. But before I could go, Marylea''s screams pierced my ears. The fireworks went away, and the vision of Tem''s crumpled Caval returned.

    Other screams joined hers. Chairs dug into the grass as people jumped to their feet and ran away, as if they, too, would dissolve in gold dust if they stayed. I stood mutely, taking in the chaos erupting before me. A firm pair of hands gripped my shoulders. It was Keenan, his face whiter than I''d ever seen.

    "Ash, he''s gone," he said.

    As if my mind had known but was trying its hardest to deny it, Keenan''s words broke through the protective wall, smashed right through it with a battering ram. Something sparked in my head. A surge ran through my body, and I lost sensation in my legs.

    Then everything went black.

 Chapter 10

    Marylea

    In the Shaper''s Wing, where the air was so still it rang in her ears, Marylea kicked off the biting heels and shed the wedding dress. She let it sit on the floor, and it was so sturdy it stood up on its own. It was pretty, with glittering sequins and silky satin, but the swath of fabric overwhelmed her, and she was glad to shed it for the thin cotton fabric of her pajamas.

    After a hot shower, she emerged smelling like Tropical Breeze, put her pajamas back on, and patted her pants pocket to make sure Makerholf''s letter to her mother was in her pants pocket. Then she crawled under the covers, and before the pain from Keenan''s betrayal could grip her, or the shock of Tem''s disappearance could haunt her, her eyelids fell and she returned to her world.

    Her world. The Aragonians referred to it as the Other Place, but it was her home.

    Aragonia was home, too, but now that it''d struck her with heartbreak, she wasn''t so sure anymore. Heartbreak was something she''d thought she would be immune to in a fantastical world like Aragonia. How often did you enter a world where you, alone, had magical powers to create objects? Aragonia was her escape from her drib-drab life as an assistant librarian. Aragonian was her living fairy tale. And it was falling apart.

    Before she fell apart herself, she shook her head and sat up. Her bed creaked like a whiny child. She was back in her eigth-floor apartment room, with its blue walls, painted five years ago by her mother and herself. The windows had square grilles on them, because the government was afraid people would fall out by accident. On her bedside table sat an empty wooden frame, one she''d intended to fill with a portrait of Keenan and her, once she''d figured out how to take photos in the Realm, where electronic objects from the Other Place mysteriously ceased to work. The thought sent more pain wrenching through her like a crowbar, and she shut her eyes tight.

    Her thoughts veered towards the grenade, which had been detonated in the Aragonian Sea in public eye to assure the public that it was no more. Nevertheless, she wasn''t sure if they would ever trust her again.

    That was not the first time she''d shaped a weapon ¨C it had been at the Dardaril''s cottage, before Trevain and his cavalry had swooped in and intervened. But it was too disturbing a memory to re-envision, so she forced her thoughts elsewhere.

    But where else could her thoughts go? Everything was falling to pieces. Aragonia, once stable, was now overflowing with chaos. And she couldn''t help but wonder if it was her fault.

    A clink of china came from the kitchen, followed by the gush of water from a tap. Her mother was home. Marylea swung her legs over the bed, patted her pants pocket, and stretched the soreness out of her body. She''d been in Aragonia for twelve hours, which meant she''d been asleep for the same time. Stifling a yawn, she opened her room door and shuffled into the kitchen on bare feet.

    Her mother looked up from scrubbing a plate with a yellow sponge. She wore a white collared shirt and black dress pants. Cassandra was an executive of a multinational company and spent half her days thousands of feet in the air. That was where Cassandra was when Marylea first entered Aragonia, and she hadn''t told her mother about it until she returned a week later. Her mother hadn''t been too pleased, but she hadn''t been surprised, either. All she''d said was, "Don''t worry. Aragonians are good people." That day, Marylea had found out that her mother used to be the Shaper of Aragonia, too, but had found a reason and a way to leave somehow. Her mother was now cemented in the Other Place ¨C or Earth ¨C with no desire to return.

    Her mother, fire red ringlets cut to a crop so they circled her face, furrowed her brow at Marylea''s expression. "Are you all right, Lea?"

    Marylea chuckled bitterly. "Was it that obvious, Mom?"

    Her mother rinsed the plate off, put it in the drying rack and began scrubbing another plate. "What happened?"

    Marylea sat at the round wooden dining table, where a plate of steaming fresh pancakes sat. Normally she would be cheered by the sight of pancakes, topped with strawberries and whipped cream, but the shock of her groom-to-be disappearing into gold dust hadn''t worn off yet. "I saw someone disappear today. I was hoping you could ¨C"

    There was a crash, and Marylea jumped. She looked up from her pancakes to see her mother standing at the sink, staring blankly at the shards of soapy china in the metal basin.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "Mom?"

    Cassandra shook her head, flicked the tap on and washed the small cut on her hand. She winced in pain and dried it off with a paper towel. "I''m fine. Did you say ¨C disappeared?"

    Marylea held up her fork but didn''t use it. "Yes. Into gold dust."

    Pressing a paper towel against her fresh cut, Cassandra sat next to Marylea and asked shakily, "In Aragonia?"

    "Are you sure you''re okay, Mom?" asked Marylea, eyeing her mother''s hand. Blood stained the white paper towel red, and the stain was growing.

    "I''m okay, Marylea," said her mother. Marylea wondered if she even felt the cut. "Tell me - how did it happen?"

    Marylea told the story in third person, leaving out the part where she was the bride. She didn''t think Cassandra, a modern single mother, would take too kindly to the notion of the royal council ordering a loveless marriage upon her daughter. "Apparently, many other people have gone missing before this. It was all kept hush-hush. Do you know what this means, Mom?"

    Her mother ran her hands through her red ringlets. Then she looked up at Marylea with wide, hazel eyes. Her eyes were filled with fear, and something else. Was that... guilt?

    Her mother let her hand fall limp on her side. "This could be my fault," she said softly.

    Marylea''s eyes widened. "Your fault?"

    Her mother massaged her temples. "I can''t be sure. It''s only a guess." She reached out for her daughter''s hand. "When a Shaper''s descendent comes of age, the Shaper must bring him or her into the Realm for Initiation. That way, the Kingdom then recognizes its new Shaper. When I made the choice not to bring you into the Realm, I skipped your Initiation, thinking you would simply not be inducted, and you would never know. But when you told me you''d been entering a world in your dreams, I- " She faltered. "I never thought this would happen. The Keeper didn''t warn me about it. I thought it was okay."

    Panic rose in Marylea. "Warned you about what?"

    Her mother looked at her, and Marylea now realized she saw regret.

    "Because you were never Initiated, the world may be refreshing itself."

    Marylea yanked her hand from her mother''s. "Refreshing itself?"

    Her mother''s gaze shifted to the table. "Wiping itself clean. A blank slate. Starting over for its new, uninitiated Shaper. I thought it wouldn''t happen because I''m banned from the Realm. I thought it didn''t apply to us. A refreshing hasn''t happened for centuries. Shapers were always careful..."

    "Everything - everyone - will be erased?" Marylea asked. She dreaded the answer.

    "Everyone."

    Suddenly Marylea felt like she was chin-deep in a pool of quicksand ¨C hopeless. No, she refused to let that engulf her.

    "But there must be a way to stop it," she said. "Please tell me there is. Aragonia cannot be refreshed. Mom, please tell me there''s a way."

    Her mother wiped the tears that had begun to fall. She stared at the 1-cat-a-day calendar that hung on the wall, her expression a stark contrast to the doe-eyed kittens posing in wicker baskets. Marylea let her mother think. It seemed like eons before her mother opened her mouth to speak again, but when she did, Marylea allowed her heart to fill with dangerous hope.

    "I have heard of a poem once. I cannot remember the words, but it was about a place that souls go when the Kingdom is refreshing. Ask the royal historian ¨C whoever''s replaced Pete. The whole Aragonian library sits in his head."

    That left Marylea feeling very conflicted. She felt joy that Aragonia might be saved, but the thought of Keenan plunged her into a whole world of hurt. She mentally kicked herself for being ridiculous. With the fate of Aragonia and its thousands of citizens at stake, what was a meager heartbreak?

    "I will," she said. "I will go back to Aragonia right now and see what can be done."

    Cassandra nodded. "I will send an excuse letter to the library for you. Stay in Aragonia as long as you need to."

    Marylea''s chest about exploded with appreciation for her mother. How thankful she was that she had someone to confide in without being sent to the looney-bin. "Thank you, Mom, I love you." Then curiosity crept into her, and she couldn''t help but ask the same question again. "Why did you leave, Mom?"

    Her mother had refused to answer several times before, averting the subject or blatantly saying "not now." So Marylea was surprised when her mother looked up and said, "Your father died in Aragonia."

    Marylea felt surprise crash over her. "You said Dad died in a car accident."

    Her mother smiled sadly. "No cars in Aragonia."

    Marylea sat in silence for a few seconds, letting it sink in. "Was Dad from there?"

    Her mother looked out the grilled apartment window, her eyes glazed over. "Yes."

    "How did he die?"

    The glaze in her mother''s eyes disappeared, replaced by something dark. She turned away. "I will answer that another time." She turned to the sink and began picking up the broken shards of china from the metal basin. "Go. Aragonia needs you." She looked over her shoulder to smile at Marylea, then returned to her chores. Marylea she saw tears swimming in her mother''s eyes.

    Marylea remembered Makerholf''s letter. She pulled it from her pants pocket and handed it to her mother. "Makerholf wrote a letter to you," she said.

    Her mother''s weary eyes widened slightly, and her fingers tremored as she took the letter from Marylea.

    "Ah, Makerholf," she said softly. "Thank you." She tucked it into her apron pocket, then went back to her shards. Obviously conversation time was over.

    "Good night, mother," said Marylea, even though it was barely morning. She retreated into her room to sleep, where she would burrow under the covers, nestle her head into her pillow, close her eyes, and return to Aragonia.

 Chapter 11

    The library was danker and colder than ever, like winter had decided to come six months early. Stars peeked at us from the midnight sky, visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the library. A crackling fire cast flickering shadows on the maroon walls, yet it didn''t warm me; Tem had taken my ability to feel warmth with him. As Keenan pored over books about Realm history, I watched Marylea''s eyes flutter open.

    "She''s awake," I said.

    Marylea blinked and stared into the ceiling. Then she looked at me, her eyes full of confusion. "Ash? Where am I?"

    "Sorry, we had to move your bed into the castle," I explained. "There were rumors of planned assassination attacks on the Shaper''s Wing."

    Marylea jolted upright. "Assassination attacks?" She touched her hands to her heart. "People want to kill me?"

    "They''re just rumors," I lied. The Shaper Wing was now a pile of glass debris and empty metal frames; Cassandra hadn''t thought to fortify the windows. She hadn''t thought the Shaper would be under attack.

    "That''s not true," Fabe cut in. "Have you seen the Shaper Wing lately? It''s like someone swung a demolition ball into it over and over. It''s bad."

    I shot a glare at Fabe. "What?" he said.

    Marylea scanned the room, her head darting left and right. When she noticed Keenan sitting by the fire, an open book cradled in his hands, raw pain shot through her eyes. Her eyes lowered, and she plucked at her quilt. Then she looked up again, her lips curled in amusement.

    "So you carted my bed into the library?" she asked.

    "Well, we had help," I said.

    "That help is stationed outside those doors -" Fabe pointed at the shut mahogany double doors, "- to make sure no one storms us."

    Marylea winced. "Have things been that bad?"

    "People have been rioting all over Aragonia," Fabe said. "They say they will resort to violence if you''re not arrested and banished. Along with the flood of assassination threats."

    Marylea massaged her temples. "I don''t blame them."

    "Lea, none of this is your fault." A pained shiver ran through me as I recalled Tem flaking away into gold dust. It was a memory I''d been struggling to live with. I wanted to lock it away, but my heart couldn''t bear it; it was my last memory of Tem. "So what did your mother say?" I asked.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    Marylea relayed to us what her mother had said. We listened as if our lives depended on it, which it sort of did. I sat so still I found it hard to breathe. Marylea''s entire body sagged with guilt. I wanted to reach out and tell her it was fine, except it wasn''t. Nothing was fine as long as Tem was gone and Aragonia crumbling to pieces.

    When Marylea was done, Keenan, who''d tried to remain as invisible as possible, shot up from his armchair and strode to the bookshelf on the south wall. He proceeded to scale the ladder to the top shelf with the agility of a spider monkey, up to where the rarest and least-touched books resided, and pulled out a wizen book. He tucked the leather-bound book under his arm and climbed back down. He sat on the couch opposing us and opened the tome.

    "The Keeper resides in the core of the Realm," he read. "There she lives in solitude and peace. She is seldom disturbed, but when visitors arrive, they are sure to experience the wealth of her hospitality. Her abode is said to be a sanctuary for lost souls of the Realm."

    Keenan''s lean body sagged, silhouetted by the blazing fire. He hadn''t slept for days, instead staying up poring over books to stop Aragonia''s catastrophe. As a scholar, his failure to find what he sought exhausted him, sucked his lifeblood.

    A torrent of goosebumps swept over my skin.

    "Where exactly is the core of the Realm?" asked Fabe from the armchair by the fire.

    "There''s a map," said Keenan. He stood the book up on his lap so we could see. A colored map was spread across two pages. The ink was slightly faded, but still legible. "It seems to be south of the Kingdom of Killi."

    "So we fly to the Keeper Core and ask her to reverse the refresh?" I asked. "How does that work?"

    "My mother mentioned a poem," said Marylea, her arms wrapped around her legs. "Perhaps we could look for said poem?"

    "I have never heard of a poem about a refreshing," said Keenan. "In fact, I''ve never heard of a refreshing." Things between Marylea and Keenan were icy to say the least, but at least they were still talking. I couldn''t imagine what Marylea must be feeling at the moment. Did she ever share her bed with him? Keenan ought to be beaten if they did.

    "The Keeper will tell us what to do, won''t she?" asked Fabe.

    "I suppose so," muttered Marylea.

    The part of me that scrambled for some hope of Tem''s return had now found something to cling to. A fire surged through me and I stood. "It''s settled, then. Marylea and I are visiting the Keeper."

    "I''m coming," said Fabe. "Tem''s my friend too."

    I smiled. I had a feeling he would say that.

    "And me," said Keenan, snapping the Keeper tome shut. "You''ll need someone who possesses knowledge of this Realm, outside of Aragonia."

    That one I did not expect. On my right, Marylea wore a look of conflict inspired by Keenan''s sudden involvement. She met my gaze, inhaled, and nodded lightly. "The more people the better, I guess."

    I felt sympathy for her, but it was quickly swallowed by the bright, glorious hope that Tem might come back.

    "We must hurry," said Keenan. "We cannot be certain there is no time limit."

    I shivered. What would life be if Tem was gone forever? Cold. I would be forever cold.

    Then I pictured him sitting next to me, a cheeky grin on his face. He spoke. "I''ll come back. You know I will."

    My daydream, however hopeful, brought warmth to my chilled bones. The effect of the crackling fire seemed to finally reach me. For the first time in days, I smiled.

    "Let''s go then," I said. "For Aragonia."

    For Tem.

 Chapter 12

    "How many times have you flown?" asked Fabe for the third time.

    "Enough," I said, flicking switches on the control panel and getting the sudden burst of energy you got from being good at something. "Springy gave me lessons. You''re in good hands, Fabe." That burst of energy all but dissipated when I tried to remember where the accelerating gear was and my mind drew a blank. My hand hovered in mid-air.

    Fabe bit his lip, as if to prevent himself from saying something that would hurt my feelings.

    There was a click of a seat belt as Keenan strapped in next to me. "There''s nothing to worry about, Fabian, especially with me as co-pilot," he added.

    Tem would''ve been in that chair. We''d taken lessons with Springy together because when I was thirteen, Tem and I had found ourselves with nothing to do and pleaded for Springy to entertain us. I closed my eyes. Focus on flying; the pain can wait.

    I was grateful that Keenan offered to be co-pilot, but troubled at the same time. Since the royal council meeting, Keenan''s eyes always flared with something dark when we exchanged glances. It could be my imagination. I hoped it was. I hoped we could stay friends.

    I shook the thought off and smiled at Fabe and Marylea, seated behind us. "Ready for take-off?" Marylea nodded, and Fabe just looked sick.

    "You can trust me. But hold on anyway." I sucked in a deep breath and initiated the take-off process.

    Take-off was bumpy at first, but with Keenan''s help, we managed to ease us into smooth flight. It took about five minutes to stabilize; then I was able to turn on auto-pilot and let the airship take over. The Loki''s wings flapped steadily on both sides; it felt like we were riding on a gargantuan butterfly. I exhaled, and only then realized that I''d been holding my breath. I turned around, and saw Marylea and Fabe clutching to their armrests, their knuckles white.

    "For what it''s worth," said Keenan, "I think you did a great job for a beginner." He flexed his knuckles to mask his anxiety.

    A rush of gratitude surged through me, yet I also felt like a terrible person. After all the cruel things I said to him in the library, he still found time to say nice things to me. At the spur of the moment, I decided I owed him an apology. In a low voice, I said, "I''m sorry for what I said in the library."

    Keenan''s response was equally quiet. "I understand."

    I sighed and watched clouds sail past, each painted with soft light by the morning sun.

    "For what it''s worth," I said, "You''re one of my closest and dearest."

    There was silence. I snuck a peek at Keenan. He met my gaze, and I saw none of the light his eyes usually held. "Thanks," he said, and shifted his gaze back to the front window.

    I felt a lump in my throat. What could I have done to prevent his hurt? Nothing. What could I do to make this better? Also nothing.

    I tightened my hold on the steering stick and stared straight ahead.

    "Make yourselves comfortable," I said, looking at the blinking spot on the map that indicated our location. The Keeper Core was a blinking blue dot, miles away from us. "We''ll be there soon enough."

    ***

    A few hours later, the sandman must''ve snuck up on me and tied sandbags to my eyelids, because they refused to stay open. I had to pinch myself several times so I wouldn''t nod off in the pilot''s seat.

    "You have a co-pilot, you know," said Keenan from the seat next to me. "Take a nap. I''ll keep watch."

    "I''m fine." I rubbed my eyes. "Go ahead and nap if you''d like to."

    "Ash, I''ve been watching you for the past ten minutes. You want a nap, and you know it. I''m not tired. How about I wake you in a few hours? We''ll take turns napping."Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    The nicer he was, the stronger the conscience gremlin in my heart gnawed. Would it kill him to quit being so nice to me?

    Ah, well. He did have a point.

    "Thanks, Keen," I said. "I''ll just sleep here in case you need me." I let go of the steering stick and felt tension spring from my shoulders instantly. I hadn''t noticed how tense I was until I let go of the controls. I kicked my sandals off and curled up on my side with my back facing Keenan. "See you in a few hours."

    He said something that I couldn''t hear. I was already well on my way to slumber land.

    I was woken by a sharp cry.

    "My head!" cried Fabe. "My sweet, tender head."

    My head churned, the ship was rocking, and hell-raising shrieks came from outside the airship. Darkness surrounded us; thick clouds had blotted out the stars and moon. Fabe was screaming, Marylea was shouting "What''s going on?" at no one in particular, and Keenan had one hand cupping his head, the other clenched over the steering stick. The air smelt vile, like someone had gone number two in all the chaos. I heard the distinct flapping of leathery wings.

    "Partridge," I cried. "Where?" It was hard to form proper sentences when it felt like my head had been invaded by a swarm of bees.

    "Starboard," said Keenan, looking up just enough to point to the right. His eyes were bloodshot.

    Something hit the glass, something large. Hairline cracks formed on the windshield. The airship rattled. Fabe screamed even louder.

    "Lea, quiet him down," I said. I gripped the steering stick and veered to the left, away from the Partridge.

    Marylea''s reply was one of panic. "He - he''s shaking!"

    I turned around to see Fabe convulsing in his seat. His eyes were rolled back into his head, leaving gnarly whites in his eye sockets.

    Fear erupted inside of me.

    "Unstrap him," I ordered. "Take him into the Partridge room."

    "The what?"

    "It''s the padded room you asked about. Remember?"

    Realization dawned on Marylea''s face.

    "Take him, now. Hurry! He''ll recover in there. Stay inside until I come get you. Please."

    I heard the clink of metal as Marylea unbuckled Fabe. She groaned under his weight. I thought about asking Keenan to help her, but I needed my co-pilot.

    "I don''t see the Partridge anywhere," said Keenan. His forehead was beaded with sweat. He winced as the Partridge pierced the air with yet another shriek.

    Then a sharp triangular face loomed through the dark clouds before us. It had bat-like wings that spread to the width of the airship and a coat of shaggy fur. It looked like a bat had guzzled radioactive liquid and then mated with a mammoth. With its immense size, I had no doubt its wings could envelope us whole. Its sharp, leathery beak was headed straight for our windscreen.

    I''d never seen a Partridge before. The last time I encountered one, I was cowering in the padded room the whole time, my head firmly tucked between my knees, Tem''s arms wrapped around my back. I was sixteen, en-route to Jin Long for an emergency, and a baby Partridge had gotten lost from its nest and flown into our airspace. I hadn''t seen what the Partridge looked like, but now I knew. I also knew how my parents had known the last one was a baby. The shrieks that pierced the air right now were a hundred times as loud and shook the ship like thunder from Mount Olympus.

    "Hang tight," I cried, and pulled us into a sharp dive. I could only hope Marylea had gotten Fabe safely into the Partridge room.

    Keenan and I were thrown back into our seats from the force. We dove for a few seconds before I yanked the steering stick and straightened us out. The keel of the ship brushed the forest canopy below.

    I turned to Keenan. "You all right?"

    He nodded shakily.

    Then a loud crash rang from the hull. The Loki cried in agony. Its body rumbled like an overloaded dryer, as if it was coming apart. A red light flashed on my control panel below the words "Hull breached."

    Then another loud crash resounded from starboard. More red lights came on. "Engine room breached."

    Fear coursed through my veins, threatening to take over my body.

    "We can''t outfly the Partridge," said Keenan. "We''re in its element."

    The Partridge''s pointy face emerged from the side of our windscreen.

    "Then we have no choice," I said, and pulled the airship into a sharp dive.

    The airship creaked and squealed. I focused on the faint outline of the canopy below us. A forest would provide cover from the Partridge.

    "Are you sure?" asked Keenan.

    "Trust me," I shouted over the noise.

    "I do."

    I held onto the steering stick like a vice. The airship vibrated ominously, like it was ready to split at the seams. It shook like a ship in a typhoon as we crashed into foliage. Sticks and leaves swatted at the windscreen, pissed at our invasion. I heard Keenan shout. Then the bottom bumped, hard, into solid ground, and I would''ve flown out of my seat if I wasn''t held down by the seat belt that pulled taut.

    We sat in our seats for a few seconds, catching our breaths. My collarbone throbbed, but otherwise I was fine.

    "Never," said Keenan breathlessly, "let anyone doubt your flying ability."

    I coughed a bitter laugh. "You''re joking. We almost died."

    "Through no fault of your own." He unbuckled himself. "Let''s check on the others."

    I sat in my chair for a while, dazed. My collarbone throbbed, and the vestiges of the Partridge-induced headache began to fade. The air no longer smelt vile, probably because we''d been soaking in it for so long.

    One thought gnawed at the back of my mind.

    Why was it that after a near-death situation, Keenan still had it in him to compliment me?

 Chapter 13

    In the Partridge room, Fabe sat on one of the benches with his face buried in his hands.

    "You all right, Fabe?" I asked.

    "Yeah," he said, not lifting his head. "Just a little sick."

    Marylea didn''t look much worse for wear, though she had a small cut on her upper lip.

    "We got bounced around a little," she explained.

    I felt a stab of guilt. If the room wasn''t padded, she wouldn''t have gotten away with only a cut lip.

    "Have a good rest," I said. "I''m going to check on the Loki."

    I left the airship and skirted the sides, scanning for signs of damage. Gaping puncture holes as wide as a church door were present in walls of the engine room. I could shimmy into the engine room if I wanted.

    Then I heard an ominous gurgling sound in the background, and panic shot through me like lightning.

    I dashed to the port side of the ship. Sure enough, there was a hole the size of a basketball in the bottom of our water reserve tank, and water was spilling out. A pool had already formed below.

    "Help!" I cried. "I need help!"

    I tore my Caval off and tried to shove it up the hole. All that did was splinter the sides and make the hole bigger.

    When the others arrived, the frantic attempts to plug the leak began. Keenan, too, shed his Caval and pushed it up against mine. But the water current was too strong for the bunched-up fabric to hold. The silky material absorbed as much water as it could, but all it really did was filter the water gushing out and dumping it into the growing pool below.

    "It''s no use," said Fabe. "I''ll grab buckets."

    Fabe and Keenan dashed off to grab buckets while Marylea and I struggled to hold the Cavals up.

    The boys returned, and we got a half bucket-full before the water tapered off.

    "Is that all the water we''ve got?" asked Fabe. "We''re dead meat."

    "We''ll find a water source," said Keenan. "There are several streams and rivers nearby."

    The water in the bucket and our water bags would last us - what - one day? I drew a deep breath to calm my building frustration. With every ticking second, chances of getting Tem back were slimming.

    "I''ll go inspect the rest of the ship," I said.

    I found more puncture marks in the hull and control room, each large enough for a man of Keenan''s size to crawl through. It was so agonizing, I felt a scream building up inside me.

    That frustration slowly turned into panic when I realized we were miles away from the Keeper Core with no mode of transport.

    "Trout crackers," I muttered under my breath.

    "I assume the profanities mean the Loki isn''t looking too good," said Keenan, who came around the corner.

    "We can''t fly this anymore than we can sprout wings," I said. "Cursed Partridge."

    Keenan put his hands on his hips and exhaled. "Guess this means we''re walking."

    "I don''t know how to get us to the Core," I said. My voice broke, and I realized I was close to tears.

    "We have maps. We''ll get there."

    My throat burned. "What if we get there too late?"

    "We won''t."

    The bad news slowly, eventually, began to sink in. What if we got to the Core and the Keeper told us Tem was gone? Forever?

    I felt a hand on my shoulder.

    "We''ll be fine," Keenan said softly. "We have you to lead us."

    I blinked and saw a fat tear fall to the soil. It splattered and dyed the soil black.

    If he said another nice thing to me I might stab myself.

    I brushed my tears away and flicked them to the floor as if they were poison. Then I pushed my chin up and fixed my gaze on Keenan''s ocean blue eyes. Although they were mostly swimming with fear, there was still room for something else, something I now recognized as affection. How had I been so blind? I pulled my gaze away and rested it on his shoulder. "We''ll need supplies," I said. "I''ll go scour the hull and see what food survived the crash."

    "I''ll look for nearby towns on the maps," said Keenan. He gathered a few maps under his arm and sat on the grass by a flat rock. Then he spread the maps across the rock and began to study them.

    "I''ll go with Ash and cook up something mean. I mustn''t be the only hungry one here," said Fabe. I nodded. Food was the last thing on my mind, but we needed the energy.

    Marylea was quiet. She sat on a rock and stared at the airship hugging herself.

    I gestured for Fabe to go ahead. Then I went up to Marylea, touched her shoulder, and asked quietly, "Something wrong?"

    She looked at me as if breaking out of a trance. "Ash. It''s just - the ship breaking down means we''re - I -" She sighed. "The trip will be prolonged." She shot a quick glance at Keenan, who was deep into his maps. She shook her head. "Sorry, I''m just being silly. There are bigger things." She smiled. "How can I help?"This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    I felt sorry for how awkward it must be for her to be on a voyage with someone she clearly still loved, but also hated. I racked my mind for something to keep her busy. "You could gather water bags and fill them with the water we have."

    "I''m on it." She smiled, and I sensed gratitude. She walked ahead of me to join Fabe in the hull. I followed after her, crawling through a gaping hole made by the Partridge''s beak.

    After our supplies were gathered, we convened around Keenan to decide our next direction.

    "I have good news and bad news," he said, his face grave. "There is no known settlement nearby."

    "And the good news?" I asked. Stars knew we needed some right now.

    "I have heard of rumors of a dwelling in Mount Dagger. Mount Dagger is that mountain over there." Keenan pointed at a mountain in the distance, shaped like an upturned dagger made of jagged, cut glass. It looked to be a couple days'' hike away. "We have just enough supplies to get there, but I''ll plan a route by a lake, just in case."

    "How credible are these rumors?" asked Fabe.

    "''Legend'' would be a more accurate term."

    Fabe closed his eyes. "Could be worse."

    "Mhm," said Marylea. Her eyes were perpetually directed at the ground.

    I rocked on my heels, trying to burn off the frustration bubbling in me, and hoped to the Stars that Marylea''s mother hadn''t missed a part about a deadline.

    "Lead the way," I said.

    ***

    The trees and bushes hung with plump fruit, teasing us with food we didn''t dare touch. My throat was parched, my stomach protesting with a passion. I pulled a sweet roll from my backpack and nibbled on it, which seemed to sate it a little bit, though not much. I realized too late it was a bad idea, for my mouth was now drier than ever. I wished I could open my mouth and absorb the dense moisture in the air.

    "Sorry guys," said Marylea, as she trudged alongside me. "I would shape a buffet if I could, but my powers don''t work outside Aragonia."

    "Don''t worry about it," I said through a mouthful of sweet roll crumbs. I looked up at Mt. Dagger, which seemed to move further and further away.

    "The lake should be coming up anytime now," said Keenan. His Caval, still soaked from being used to clog the water leak, was slung from his backpack and left a drip trail behind him. He wore a gray body-hugging top and pants. I shivered slightly in just my cotton suit, my wet Caval also strapped to my backpack. Fabe looked in his own element in a breezy tunic and half-pants. Marylea, dressed in black overalls that made her hair pop, walked with her eyes to the ground, trying not to look ahead at her ex-beau.

    The damp forest was full of sounds: the rustle of leaves, dry leaves and twigs cracking under our feet, birds twittering away above us.

    Then another sound joined in: the sound of laughing women.

    "Did you hear that?" Keenan hissed. We stopped dead in our tracks, ears craned to listen. The womanly voices began singing a song in a chirpy language we didn''t understand. It sounded like a flock of songbirds were facing off.

    "I thought there was no settlement nearby," I whispered.

    Keenan''s voice was low and suspicious. "There isn''t."

    "Perhaps your map was outdated," said Fabe.

    "It''s not."

    Then we heard splashing. My dry throat cried for charity. I pictured crisp, clear water, and it was all I could do not to charge towards the sound.

    "That might be the lake we were hoping for," I said. "Worth checking out?"

    Marylea shook her empty water bag. "My water bag says yes. We can hide in the bushes to see what''s going on."

    We crept towards the sounds, treading lightly as possible. The forest subsided into a very bright clearing. We knelt behind a thick bush and waited for our eyes to adjust.

    There was indeed a lake in the clearing. It was wide, and sunlight danced off its crested surface like water imps. Our attention was quickly averted from the water, however, to the women that frolicked in it. It wasn''t that they were clad in bikinis woven from water weeds, or that they were all stunning. It was the fact that, in place of legs, they had swishing green tails.

    "Mermaids," I whispered under my breath.

    "Frickin'' hell," said Marylea. "No one told me fairy tale creatures roamed the Realm."

    "They don''t," I said. "I''ve never heard of mermaids in the Realm." I looked at Keenan. "Have you?"

    The royal historian shook his head, equally perplexed. "Something tells me we should avoid them."

    I nodded. "Agreed."

    "But we need water," said Fabe. His eyes carried a certain sparkle. "Perhaps we should try talking to them."

    Fabe was always a sucker for beautiful women. I fought the temptation to roll my eyes.

    "I don''t think that''s a good ¨C" My breath caught. "Fabe, stop!"

    Fabe jumped over the shrub and walked into the clearing, waving. "Hey, you girls friendly?"

    I growled.

    Then the most astonishing thing happened: Keenan jumped over the shrub and joined Fabe in the trek towards the lake.

    I cast a shocked glance at Marylea, who returned the expression. She rolled her eyes as if to say, "Men."

    But something didn''t add up. Keenan, the most sensible human being I''d ever encountered, wouldn''t walk up to a troupe of fantasy creatures right after he had warned us about them.

    "Should we follow them?" whispered Marylea. Her eyes were wide with surprise. Then I realized her eyes looked so much like Tem''s, with the same streaks of orange, brown and green. I never noticed before, but now that I did, I felt a punch in my gut.

    "We should lay low," I said, crouching lower. "See what happens."

    Fabe and Keenan reached the mermaids by the shore of the lake. The mermaids welcomed the two boys with cries of joy and gleaming smiles. They did not stop their chirrupy singing.

    I rocked on my heels, perplexed. Something was off. Keenan swayed as he stood by the shore. He leaned forward, his palm on a rock.

    "He''s not himself," I whispered.

    "Who?"

    "Keenan."

    Then I noticed Fabe was swaying, too. He wore a wide, cheesy grin and his eyes seemed glazed over.

    It fell into place. Panic hit me like a sledgehammer.

    "They''re in a trance," I said. "It''s the song."

    Marylea looked at me with alarm. "Frick! What should we -"

    She never finished her sentence. There was a loud splash, and both boys were gone. I glanced back to see their feet disappear into the dark depths of the lake. The mermaids clapped their hands and shrieked with glee before diving after the boys.

    "Shit!" Marylea cried.

    "Wait, Lea ¨C"

    Marylea ignored my cries and jumped right into the clearing.

    The mermaids heard her profanity and the rustling of the bushes and turned around. In a flash, their beautiful faces morphed into scaly faces that resembled the freak offspring of a snake and a weasel. They gnashed sharp fangs at Marylea, dove into the lake, and in seconds, reemerged bearing tridents and harpoons.

    I pulled my sword from its sheath and jumped out after Marylea.

    "Stay away from her!" I cried, pointing my sword at them.

    The mermaids saw my sword and hesitated a little. One of them, a blonde ash-skinned mermaid, hissed, "Leave ussss. We do not wish to harm fellow women." A forked tongue flicked from her perfect lips. They held their ground, glaring at us with warning.

    Marylea was frantic. "Ash, the boys ¨C they''ll drown!"

    "Your boyssss won''t drown," hissed the blonde mermaid. "We like to keep them alive. For some time, anywayssss." She tossed her head up to the sky and screeched with glee.

    I pulled Marylea back by her shoulder. The mermaids glared at us."They don''t have gills," I whispered to Marylea. "That means they need air - an airlock is below. I don''t think the mermaid is lying. Keenan and Fabe won''t drown."

    "How can you be so sure?" Marylea asked. Tears clouded her eyes. I eased her back into the forest. She looked at the mermaids with alarm, and back at me. I saw the torment in her eyes. Fear for the boy she loved.

    I wasn''t sure. What I was sure about, however, was that we would be dead if we took on the mermaids now. Then there really would be no one to save the boys.

    The mermaids'' glare followed us as we went, unblinking.

    Hidden behind shrubbery, I whispered, "We''re outnumbered, Lea. We need a plan."

    Marylea''s eyes were swollen like they''d been stung by bees. "They''ll live?"

    "Yes, Lea," I said. "Even if it kills us."

 Chapter 14

    Five mermaids stood as sentries, each armed with a harpoon or trident. I squinted, searching for any sign of a respiratory organ on the mermaids besides their nose. Nope, no gills.

    The thought that Fabe and Keenan could possibly be drowning was too hard to bear. It took all my self-control to plant my feet on the grass and huddle behind the bush instead of bursting into a battle cry and storming the lake.

    "I wish I could shape a bazooka," said Marylea. "But I can''t shape anything outside Aragonia."

    "A bazooka?"

    "A huge weapon that could obliterate the lake. Oh, wait. That''d kill the boys, too." She looked crushed.

    "Why don''t you try shaping something else?" I asked. "A sword, maybe. Perhaps there''s magic in the air. We''re looking at mermaids with harpoons." We hadn''t given Marylea a weapon because we hadn''t thought we''d need to be armed. It was a naive, optimistic decision I felt like punching myself for.

    "Okay." Marylea raised her palms, frog-walked away from me to make room, and closed her eyes. I held my breath and watched for the slightest sign of gold dust.

    The air didn''t stir. After a minute, Marylea reopened her eyes. "Nothing."

    I let out the breath I was holding and shrugged, as if my heart wasn''t breaking. "It was worth a shot. We''ll wait for an opening, then we sneak in and get our boys back." I reached under my Caval and pulled my sword a third-ways out of its hilt. "I''ve got us covered."

    She gave me a weak smile.

    We waited in tense silence until finally the sentries dove underwater at dawn. The lake calmed to a still mirror; the lake reflected the fading stars and soft glow of the awaking sun.

    "They''re probably switching shifts," I said to Marylea, who was stooped next to me. They left no one on guard, so confident were they that we weren''t crazy enough to attack them. "We have a tiny window to sneak in."

    "Now?" she whispered.

    I nodded. "Now." I checked for my sword then crept from the bushes. We snuck across the grass, quiet as a stalking cat. I peeked over the rocks surrounding the lake. The water was so clear we could see all the way to the bottom.

    "A cave," said Marylea, pointing at a cave mouth about thirty feet underwater.

    I hoped to Stars there was an air lock in there. "On three, we dive towards the cave."

    Marylea nodded, her eyes full of steely determination, and another thing: love. Love for a boy who had lied to her, cheated her, broken her heart, and yet she still had it in her to love him. I didn''t know if I should feel sympathy or respect.

    "All right. Stars watch over us. One, two -" We climbed onto the rocks, and the cool jagged edges dug into my fingertips. "Three."

    We plunged into icy cold water. My senses numbed from the cold, my lungs cried for mercy. I wrenched my eyelids open, and all I saw was tiny bubbles jerking to the surface. I willed my limbs to swim, but they felt like heavy ice blocks, useless and a hindrance.

    I''m going to die, I''m going to die.

    The jittery bubbles danced to the surface, and a small part of me thought they looked like the swirling gold dust that Tem had dissipated into. And gold dust he would remain if you let your fear overcome you.

    I resurfaced for a gulp of air, and tread water for a bit. Marylea joined me at the surface, looking confused.

    "Sorry," I gasped. "Let''s try again."

    I dove below the surface, keeping the vision of swirling gold dust in my head. It was terrifying, yet it gave me strength. The water felt warmer, my lungs felt soothed. My limbs came alive, and we swam down, down. Every kick gave me strength. The tiny bubbles dissipated from around us, and morning rays filtered through the clear lake. Ahead of us, the cave opening yawned like a lion.

    I looked to my left to see Marylea emerging from the froth, her fiery hair blazing around her pale face. I gave her a thumbs-up, and she gave one back.

    The lake was deeper than it appeared from the surface, and it took about half a minute to arrive at the cave opening. My lungs pleaded for air. Once at the cave mouth, instead of an air lock, we found a tunnel that went deeper into the lake. It would''ve been pitch black if not lit by small pearls embedded into its walls. I told my lungs to suck it up and pushed into the tunnel. Just as my chest was close to exploding, the tunnel curved upwards and I saw a shimmer of light.

    We kicked to the surface. Our heads burst into cool, joyous air. We sucked in as much air as we could, gasping like drowning fish on the shore.

    You did it, Ash. You conquered your fear.

    I almost laughed. That fear seemed so trivial compared to what awaited us ahead, to the thought that Tem might be gone forever.

    I would never fear anything else again.

    It was a minute before my lungs stopped threatening to blow, and I finally started to scan our environment for a way to get up to shore while treading water with burning limbs. There it was ¨C a stone staircase leading up to a stone platform. Our bodies sagged from oxygen starvation, but we managed to pull ourselves up somehow. Marylea flopped to the stone floor next to me, and we lay there catching our breaths. It seemed ages before our lungs and limbs stopped burning, and when they did, we stood.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    We were in a damp cave lit by head-sized glowing pearls. Up ahead, a small tunnel snaked upwards, looking like a railroad on which a train would come barreling towards us at any time.

    "That''s our path," I said, failing to keep the shiver out of my voice.

    Next to me, Marylea''s dripping body was taut with fear. She nodded.

    Wordlessly, we made our way up the tunnel, which was also dimly lit by little pearls. Stone gave way to polished marble, and the tunnel widened. We struggled to find purchase on the slippery surface with our soaked sandals - it was like walking on a kitchen floor drenched with oil - and we were forced to tread slowly.

    Finally, the tunnel widened into a cavernous opening so large I had to crane my neck to see the ceiling. What lay ahead left us speechless for a moment.

    Marylea muttered, "It''s a frickin'' palace down here."

    "Kind of reminds you of Ellis, doesn''t it?" I said. I did not mean it like it was a good thing.

    Marylea said nothing, just wrinkled her nose as if disturbed by a bad smell.

    We were in a marble hallway with a high, arched ceiling. Numerous pillars were strewn about the hall, each glowing a bright blue that cast eerie light across the hall. Glowing pearls on gold stands filled in the shadows. I squinted so my eyes, accustomed to the dim tunnel, would adjust quicker. When they did, I noticed something floating inside the pillars. Then it clicked in my brain. I gasped.

    "Holy trout," I said. "We have to hurry."

    Marylea saw the same thing, and she hurried after me without question.

    For what was floating in the pillars were bodies of dead men. Their clothes were intact, ranging from a peasants'' smock to a Knight''s armor. All were young and handsome. But their eyes were shut, their heads lolling downwards or sideways. I didn''t know if they were still alive, and I had no time to find out.

    What surprised me was how empty the palace seemed. There were no sounds of movement, no whispers of conversation. The air was still. It was like the whole population had gone into hibernation.

    This seemed too easy. The only challenge was figuring out where Fabe and Keenan were.

    I squinted at the archways circling the hall. Each had a small marked plaque hanging above it. Perhaps if we could decipher those symbols...

    Something stirred the still air. A rumbling, coming from the largest archway, the one that reached to the ceiling.

    "Did you hear that?" I whispered.

    Marylea nodded, her eyes wide. "Sounds like... snoring."

    There was no one around. The snoring came in bursts.

    Then I noticed something snaking across the polished floor from the center pillar into the large archway.

    A chain.

    My body stiffened.

    I pressed a finger to my lips for Marylea to be quiet. Fear flashed in her eyes.

    Then we heard something else. Male voices.

    "- stuck here. You''re a heartless brute, using Marylea for -"

    "Listen, I had no choice."

    Clinking of chains. "Trout crap. Everyone has a choice."

    "I did it to protect Aragonia. Wouldn''t you have done the same?"

    Brief silence. More clanking of chains.

    I cast a bewildered look at Marylea. Were they serious right now?

    Marylea''s face was ashen, and my heart pained for her. Her heartbreak was still fresh, I was sure. She was just very good at hiding it.

    I made a gesture towards the archway the voices were coming from, and Marylea nodded, her lips a grim line. We snuck around the glowing blue pillars, trying to ignore the male bodies floating within them. Perhaps later, after we''d rescued Fabe and Keenan, we would break one of these pillars to check if they were still alive.

    Through the archway was a flight of marble stairs that transitioned into damp stone blocks as we descended into what looked like a dungeon. Fabe and Keenan''s voices grew louder.

    "What were you thinking, confessing to Dimitri? You know you don''t hold a candle to Tem."

    Keenan''s voice was subdued. "I was confused. And a terrible liar."

    "Oh yeah? Marylea doesn''t think so."

    I snuck a glance at Marylea, whose face was hidden in the shadows.

    "Stop bringing her into this. Shouldn''t we be working together to escape?"

    "These are chains, trouthead. What''d you suggest, break them open with your lies, huh? Like you do with hearts?"

    I made a mental note to never offend Fabe. We came to the end of the stairs and found ourselves in a long corridor lined with jail cells. Each cell was divided by brick wall and lined with iron bars from floor to ceiling. I checked to see that there were no guards. I couldn''t believe the mermaids were so complacent about security; I guess no one had been crazy enough to invade them.

    We walked by the cells. The first few were empty; then we arrived at the middle cell, which contained our squabbling boys, damp hair snaking across their faces, their wrists dangling from chains vaulted to the ceiling.

    "We could at least think of a plan -" Keenan''s eyes widened as he saw me. "Ash!"

    Fabe, who had his back facing us, shook his head. "The girls had better not risk their lives to save us. Did you see the teeth on those mer ¨C"

    "No, look." Keenan cocked his head towards us. Fabe turned around. The eyes on his dirt-smudged face widened, and a wide grin broke across his face. "You came for us," he said, a touch of awe in his voice.

    I put a finger to my lip and pointed at the ceiling. The boys went quiet.

    "Where are the keys?" I whispered.

    "End of the corridor," Fabe whispered back.

    Indeed, we found a ring of keys hanging from a hook at the end of the dungeon corridor. Along the way, we glanced at remnants of previous prisoners littering the cells: a dried apple core, shreds of cloth, rusty meal trays. I shivered to think of what had happened to previous inhabitants.

    "I''m so glad you came," whispered Fabe. "Did you see what was in the pillars?"

    "It was hard not to notice," I said grimly.

    "They said they were going to worship us," said Keenan, his face ashen. "And then embalm us so they can admire us, forever."

    Ah. That answered the question of whether the boys in the pillars were alive or not.

    "They also said something about how the world would be a safer place then," added Fabe.

    "What does that mean?" I asked.

    Fabe shrugged. "I dunno, Ash. They''re hooting mad."

    The cell door grated the frame as we pulled it open, so Marylea and I were forced to open it at snail''s pace. Finally, we got it open far enough for Marylea and me to slip through and use the ring of keys to free them. Once free, the boys rubbed their red and puffy wrists. The sight ignited a flame of rage inside me, which I swallowed. This was no time to let emotions cloud my thoughts.

    "How did you get past the beast?" asked Keenan.

    I felt a flicker of fear. I had already suspected there was a beast, but had conveniently locked that away in the dark vestiges of my mind. "Beast?"

    "The guard demon," said Fabe. "The huge lumpy blob that guards this place."

    "We didn''t see any beast," said Marylea, who reflected my fear in her eyes.

    "We heard snoring," I said. "It must be asleep like the mermaids."

    "They''re not asleep," Fabe said. "They said they were going to be in prayer."

    I looked at him blankly. "In prayer?"

    "Yeah. To prepare for our worship," he said grimly.

    It sounded so ridiculous; I would have laughed if we weren''t in a palace full of crazy man-embalming mermaids.

    I tightened my fingers around my sword hilt. "Let''s hope they''re not finishing anytime soon."

 Chapter 15

    Now that Fabe said the mermaids were in prayer, I could hear a faint sing-song hum coming from the largest archway. The hum rose and fell, rose and fell. Those weren''t snores we''d heard.

    Hiding behind pillars, I motioned the others to follow my lead. Our sandals squeaked from the damp stone block stairs, so we inched across the shiny floor like snails. Maybe if we were quiet enough...

    Clang.

    I spun around and saw Marylea''s panic-stricken face. She stood right by a pillar, a portion of the chain resting between her feet and the pillar. Apology was splashed across her face.

    The humming ceased, and evolved into loud and alarmed voices. Then small shadows appeared within the large archway.

    I willed my body to turn invisible, or at least sink into the ground.

    "Run!" hissed Fabe.

    We had barely run past three pillars when the floor began to rumble.

    "What was that?" squeaked Marylea.

    "Nesseria," whispered Keenan, his eyes wide.

    Before I got a chance to ask him what a Nesseria was, it ambled into the soft light cast by the pearl lamps.

    "Oh my god," murmured Marylea. "It''s Jabba the Hut."

    I did not know what a Jabba the Hut was, but if she meant a gigantic, wrinkly and bumpy blob of moss-colored fat with tiny eyes and tiny arms, she got it right.

    Terror flooded me like quicksand. I found myself unable to move.

    Nesseria moved quickly for something so large and lumpy, shifting one lumpy side after another. It wore a thick metal collar around its neck, or lack of it. The collar was linked to a heavy chain that extended from the middle of the hall.

    Before I could say anything, my peripheral eye caught a flash of movement. Marylea''s streak of red hair billowed as she made a run for the exit.

    My heart sank into the pits of my gut. Why, Marylea?

    Then came a loud roar that sounded like one an ancient hulking dinosaur would make. The roar shook the hall. I looked up at the ceiling because I felt it would collapse.

    Loud high-pitched shrieks came from the large archway. Minute figures, each waving a trident, came running from behind Nesseria. I didn''t know mermaids sprouted legs out of water.

    I felt a hand on my back. It gave me a slight push. "Go, go, go!" said Keenan.

    The mermaids sprinted towards us in a mad fury. They were not about to let their objects of worship go.

    I looked forward to the airlock entrance. The swim from the cave to the surface was a long one. I looked back at the running mermaids. They were rapidly gaining.

    I looked at Keenan, who was staring at me with a mix of panic and confusion.

    "We can''t outswim them," I said. "Run ahead. I''ll stall."

    "No!" Keenan''s response was swift and firm. "I am not leaving you here."

    "Oh no. I''m not staying." I turned to run, but stopped in my heels to add, "Keep Marylea and Fabe safe, please!" I caught a distraught expression on his face before I spun around and sprinted towards the center pillar.

    The chain holding Nesseria was reaching its full length. Nesseria was stationed as a guard, not as an attack. I was about to change that.

    When I got to the foot of the pillar, the mermaids were a dozen pillars away. I raised my sword and began hacking at the chain that was wrapped around the pillar. My blade met metal with a hearty clang. I struck again, adding more force with each swipe.

    My arms began to fatigue. I spread my legs, braced myself for a heavier strike.

    My blade missed its mark and struck the pillar instead.

    A crack appeared on the glass. An idea popped into my head. What the trout, it was worth a try. Instead of aiming for the chains, I positioned my blade to hit the glass.

    The crack grew wider and wider, until it was nearly as wide as the pillar itself.

    I swung my sword wide and struck the pillar with all the force I had left.

    The pillar came apart. Ocean blue liquid gushed at me. The cold liquid stung my skin and filled my nostrils. The torrent pushed me to the ground, its force pinning me down.

    Then a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the outpour.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    I looked up and saw Keenan''s face, flushed from sprinting. His chest heaved heavily. I had never noticed how wide and blue his eyes were.

    His eyes popped. "Watch out!" He yanked my arm and I stumbled towards him. Something cold and slimy brushed my other arm. I turned to look. Bile pushed up my throat.

    It was the body in the pillar. He was dressed in a light-blue Caval that might have been white in its early days. The cadaver sprawled across the ground in a puddle of mint-blue liquid.

    Tears sprung to my eyes. He reminded me dreadfully of Templeton.

    A blood-curdling roar woke me to my senses.

    "Nesseria''s free." Keenan tugged at my arm. "Hurry."

    I looked over my shoulder to see he was right. The chains were free. Nesseria was shuffling at an even faster pace now, leaving a horde of mermaids behind it.

    I nodded at Keenan and kicked off at a sprint. Fabe and Marylea waited for us at the entrance to the air lock.

    "Go!" I shouted, waving them forward. They hesitated, but did as I said and disappeared down the tunnel that led to the air lock.

    I looked over my shoulder. Nesseria was about five pillars away from us. It picked up speed the more it ran. This was going to be close.

    Keenan was falling behind. I slowed down and put my hand on his back. "Faster!" I cried.

    The mermaids seemed to have caught on to my plan and were shrieking in fury. I could barely make out their faint cries. "Nessie''s free!" "Run faster!"

    Blood pumped like acid through my veins. I pushed on Keenan''s back, giving him some momentum, while making sure he didn''t fall.

    We finally got to the air lock entrance. "Go ahead," I said to Keenan. "And swim!"

    This time, Keenan did not object. He knew he would drag me down if he waited.

    As Keenan ran down the tunnel, I stood at the tunnel entrance, watching Nesseria and the mermaids progress. The mermaids were falling behind their guard dog. For such a large, burdened creature, I was surprised at how fast it moved.

    Nesseria got closer, closer, until finally I couldn''t see the head perched atop its huge body.

    "Nessie, over here!" I shouted, waving my arms.

    The creature gave a bellow and came right at me.

    The mermaids, ways away from Nesseria, emitted cries of rage right before their creature rammed itself into the tunnel entrance.

    I backed away to avoid its slimy folds of skin. The base of Nessie was crusted with dirt and barnacles. It pulsed like a toxic octopus.

    Nesseria was well wedged between the hall and the tunnel. Muffled cries came from behind the large creature. I heard the clink of chains as they tried to pull Nesseria out of the tunnel mouth.

    Before finding out if they managed it, I ran down the slippery tunnel and into the air lock.

    I found Marylea, Fabe and Keenan wading into the air lock. I gave a cry of desperation. "Why''re you still here?"

    "We had to know you were safe," said Keenan.

    I was tempted to glare at him. "I appreciate it. Now let''s get the trout out of here."

    We dove into the icy water. All the air I had in my lungs was knocked out immediately. I kicked my arms and legs in a frog-style. The three of us made our way down the tunnel, guided by shimmering sunlight that came through the cave mouth.

    My lungs were about bursting when we reached the cave mouth. We were all slowing down, exhausted by the run and the anxiety of the chase.

    I waved them on. Just a little more to go.

    It felt like ages to swim from the cave mouth to the surface. I continuously looked behind my shoulder to see the mermaids had gotten past Nesseria, but no mermaids came.

    Finally, we burst through the surface and started gulping air. Warm air filled my lungs. It tasted like sweet honey.

    Wasting no time, we kicked towards shore. I hoisted myself up to the smallest rock, then turned around to pull Marylea up. Fabe climbed to shore on his own and helped pull Keenan up.

    My muscles burned, but we were not safe yet.

    "To the woods," I wheezed.

    We half walked, half crawled across the grass to the wooded area. Then we crawled behind some thick shrubs and lay there, catching our breath.

    "I think I swallowed enough water to last a week," wheezed Fabe. We shared a small, tired laugh.

    We had lain for a minute or so before heads began bursting from the water. High-pitched shrieks and cries pierced the air.

    "You have betrayed your own kind!" One of them hissed. "But you''ll be bringing them back to usssss. We know you will."

    This struck fearful suspicion in me. Why ever would we bring the boys back to be embalmed?

    Then I heard a gasp and a fearful cry.

    "Ash - what''s happening?"

    I turned my head to the side to see the two boys shaking from head to toe. Their eyes lolled to the side to reveal only whites.

    "Trout!" I sat up and pressed the back of my hand against Keenan''s forehead. I pulled my hand back almost instantly. It was searing hot.

    "Oh no." Without thinking, I got to my feet and shouted back to the mermaids, "What did you do to them?"

    The mermaids, all five of them, threw their heads back and cackled.

    "Don''t you wisssssh you knew?" hissed a black-haired one. "Bring them back and we will cure them."

    "And have you turn them into cold statues?" I glared at them. "Not on your filthy scales." Then I ducked back down to the shrubs. Their laughter pierced my heart.

    "They will die and rot in twelve hourssss," replied the mermaid. "With ussss, they''ll stay alive a little longer. We might even let you accompany them. At leasssst until the ssssacrifice. You''re welcome to join them, of coursssse."

    Marylea gave me a pleading look. "Don''t," she whispered.

    "Why are you doing this?" I yelled. "What do you have to gain?"

    A sad look flashed across each of their faces, and I was convinced I''d imagined it.

    "Many yearsss ago," the black-haired one began, "a dasssshing young man arrived in our midsssst. We welcomed him with open armssss, fed him our besssst delicaciesss, and clothed him with our besssst dresssss. He charmed each of ussss, made ussss believe we were hissss one and only... Then we found out he''d been having usssss all, playing ussss... but we''d been so ready to forgive him, that''sss how sssstupid we were..." She clenched her razor-sharp teeth. "Then he leffffft!" She let out a loud roar unbefitting of so beautiful a creature, and it sent shivers down my soaking skin.

    A golden-haired mermaid continued, "We vowed never to let a boy play ussss again. By keeping all the pretty men to oursssselvessss, we are doing fellow women a ffffavor."

    Their story stunned me into silence. I was torn between sympathy (absurd as that was), fear and hatred. Then I heard a raspy croak, and everything else fell away but fear. I looked back at Fabe and Keenan ¨C both of them had stopped shaking, though they were ghostly pale and could hardly keep their eyes open.

    Keenan''s lips moved. I leaned forward so I could hear him.

    "Mount...Dagger."

    Then his eyelids slid shut. His head lolled to the side like a relaxed puppet. Both of them had passed out.

    "Help us save them," I pleaded, desperate for any kind of help. "Please. They are not like other men. They are kind, and genuine, and honest. You must believe me."

    The mermaids rolled their eyes.

    "Ssssssilly girl," spit the black-haired mermaid, baring her teeth. "There is no ssssuch thing as an honesssst man. You have twelve hourssss. We''ll ssssee you then." She gave a piercing shriek of mirth, and the other mermaids joined in. Together, they swished their tails and dove into the lake. The lake surface rippled for a few seconds, then turned into a picture of tranquility.

 Chapter 16

    I was tired and frustrated that we had gotten into one crisis after another, but most frustrated that the boys'' life clocks were ticking away with every step we took.

    Mount Dagger was surrounded by treacherous, unforgiving terrain; so treacherous Marylea and I had to make a stop to bind our sandals with leaves to protect our feet from being cut open. The hike was long and pricked with thorns, the climbs steep and slippery. The air stung out nostrils and lungs, and I huddled in my Caval to protect whatever body heat I had left. Marylea was bundled in a fur coat she''d brought from the Loki, which seemed to envelope her skinny frame so she resembled a walking marshmallow.

    We pulled the boys on makeshift stretchers we made from tree branches and leaves. We swapped occasionally because Fabe was a lot lighter than Keenan, being only skin and bones. I recognized a glint of hurt in Marylea''s eyes whenever she walked towards Keenan and picked his stretcher rope up, as if it was painful for her to get within one foot of the boy. I tried not to let my sympathy show through. Marylea would not appreciate sympathy, especially not from me, the girl who held Keenan''s heart but didn''t want it.

    Because we did not have time to waste, the only food we ate was compact food bars. They provided us with enough energy to hike with two full-grown boys dragging behind us.

    After a full day''s trek, we arrived, feet sore and fingers stinging from rope burn, at the foot of Mount Dagger. Looking up at the peak, I immediately understood how it got its name. Shaped like a relentless dagger blade, the mountain zigzagged into the gray, overcast skies. The tip was covered in snow.

    My heart plunged. It looked as hospitable as a roaring volcano. And where were the people? The mountain face was as empty as the lecture hall when Keenan was scheduled to talk about the Origins of Spriarweed.

    "Where''re the people?" asked Marylea, voicing the thoughts in my head.

    "They must be here somewhere," I said. My breaths quickened. "Keenan told us to come here. Let''s search the mountain face."

    I heard faint hiccupping, like a baby fox that had gotten separated from its mama. I turned towards the direction of the sound, and was stunned to see tears running down Marylea''s face.

    "I''m - so - sorry," she said through hiccups. Her feet went on stomping through the thick brush, tears falling onto the soil. "This is all - hic - my fault. If I''d never come to - hic - Aragonia... now it''s disappearing, and you''ll be all gone..." Then she stopped, let the rope fall, and curled into a ball.

    I dropped the rope tied to Fabe''s stretcher. The frustration, fear and fatigue were getting to me. My patience was wearing thin. "Marylea, we need to keep going."

    She kept hiccupping and peeked up at me with watering hazel eyes.

    "I said stop," I said in a hard voice. "Get it together, Lea. We don''t have time to play the blame game. The boys might be dying!"

    "I ¨C I''m sorry." She wiped her tears. "You''re right. We''ve got to keep going..." She picked up the rope to Keenan''s stretcher and started to pull it. Yet the tears continued their free fall down her cheeks, and she continued to shake with sobs.

    That sad image brought my frustration crumbling down like a battered wall. What was I doing, snapping at her like that? She was only right to feel despair. She had to live with the idea that she was the reason a whole Kingdom was vanishing, yet instead of being curled up in a room dissolving in tears, here she was, traveling through the wilderness, pulling her ex-lover on a stretcher, fighting against all odds to retain hope. What was a moment of weakness?

    I got to my knees and touched her shoulder. "Let it all out, Lea."

    I let her sit and sob for the next few minutes, until finally all the emotion was drained out of her. Finally the hiccups ceased, and her breathing steadied. I wished I could cry, release the emotions I''d dammed up inside. But I was too far gone to even cry. My eyes were dry, yet I was dying inside.

    "Lea," I said softly. "All that matters is you''re doing the best you can. Aragonia has been through dreadful odds. She''ll get through this all the same."

    She sniffed and wiped her face clean. Then she laughed. "Now you''re crying too."

    I let out a bark of laughter and snorted. "It''s what real women do."

    Marylea smiled. "Thanks, Ash."

    I smiled back and pat her shoulder. "Now let''s find these people."

    As I knelt to pick up the ropes to Fabe''s stretcher, I felt pain engulf me like fire. My chest ached so badly for Tem I couldn''t breathe, and the thought of Aragonia vanishing loomed over me like a rogue black hole. My home land, my life, was walking a thin line of non-existence. At least Marylea would have the Other Place to return to, and a new Kingdom to rule. I would simply cease to exist. How did I remain so strong on the surface while I was crumbling inside?

    Because Marylea needed me. We needed each other. And Aragonia needed us.

    But first ¨C the boys.

    The trek to the base of Mt Dagger finally ended in a dense field of thorny shrubbery, and I spied a few woodland creatures scurrying in its midst. I left Marylea to watch the boys while I skirted it to make sure there wasn''t an opening to the rumored dwelling in Mt Dagger. Finding nothing, I returned to Marylea and showed her what seemed like the easiest route, which wasn''t very easy at all. The boys'' stretchers dragged on the dirt and caught on jagged rocks. I wished with all my heart that they were awake and well.

    Then an air-rumbling shriek shot through the air and sent disabling pain into our heads, fear into our hearts.

    Marylea clasped her hands to her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

    "Partridge," I whispered. "Their nests must be nearby." I was learning a lot about the Realm in a span of a few days.

    Marylea shook her head. Her red hair, now straggly and matted, clung to the sides of her dirt-streaked face. "Trudge on," she said, with a faint smile. I felt a glimmer of pride for this girl who, less than an hour ago, had collapsed into a heaving pile of sobs.

    We searched for signs of dwelling. Our moment of excitement and hope came when we spotted a burnt torch laying in a dry bush. It comprised of five tree branches wrapped with twine. Its head was charred, but had yet to disintegrate into ash.

    With hopeful fire in our hearts, we searched the vicinity, and found a cave hidden behind thick vines. It wasn''t much of a dwelling, as it was deep, dark and rank, and smelt like a Partridge had designated it as its latrine. But we decided to give it a shot anyway.

    It wasn''t the smell that bothered me, but rather how it reminded me of the mermaids'' tunnel into their lair. Marylea and I looked at each other. Then, as if we''d communicated telepathically, we nodded and headed onward.

    Tragedies either made or broke you. We''d chosen not to be broken, and our choice had bonded us tighter than ever.

    A few paces in, we approached what seemed to be a pile of Partridge turd. The brown droppings were piled into a medium-sized, putrid mount in the middle of the tunnel floor, wrapped by a circle of small rocks.

    "Someone was definitely here," Marylea said.

    I pressed my lips together. Why build a pyramid out of turd?

    We skirted around the mound, struggling to get the boys'' stretchers around it without touching. We wrinkled our noses as the stench wove its way up our nostrils, but we managed to get the boys around it without a graze.

    We continued down the tunnel, and the stench dissipated in a few paces. I did not speak. Inside, my heart soared. The turd mound, the lack of stench after it - all this pointed towards a possible dwelling ahead. I looked back at the boys who lay lifeless in the stretchers, and allowed myself a faint glimmer of relief.

    The tunnel ended in a small chamber lit by fluorescent mushrooms. A dim, green glow lit the small, curved chamber. It seemed to be carved out by human hands, yet there were no humans in sight.

    "This can''t be it," Marylea said, her voice breaking. "There''s barely room for a family of four."

    Perhaps this belonged to only a family of four. Yet it seemed long abandoned. There was no fire pit or a trace of one. There were no food stores. It was cold, dark and the walls felt damp.

    The faint glimmer of hope I allowed myself flickered to death.

    Then it flickered on again.

    "The turds were fresh," I said. "They were moist and pungent. This isn''t abandoned. Look for traces of life."

    Resting Fabe and Keenan on the stone floor, we scoured the chamber for evidence of human habitation. On the far end was a stone bed covered with straw, and that was it. By the bed lay a smattering of straw that seemed to have fallen off the bed.

    "Nothing," said Marylea, her voice weak. "There''s nothing here."

    "No," I said, gritting my teeth. "There must be something. We mustn''t give up, Lea."

    Marylea swept her matted hair to one side. "But there''s nothing here, Ash."

    I blocked her words from my mind. Instead, I got to my knees and started feeling the floor. I rapped it with my knuckles, pressed my ears to the cool surface to listen for air movements, and swept aside prickly straw.

    Then, as I was sweeping aside the straw that lay on the floor by the stone bed, my fingers found air.

    My heart skipped. "Marylea, look." My fingers swept the layers of straw aside to reveal a hole in the ground. It was wide enough to fit three people. One side of the hole was smooth and curved downwards, like a slide.

    Marylea''s face lit up. "A slide!" She fell to her knees to examine it with me. Then she looked at me, her brows knotted together. "Is it safe, do you think?"

    I grabbed a pebble and let it go over the hole. It tumbled down the slide into pitch darkness. We held our breaths and listened to its journey down the slide. It bounced off smooth walls and rattled further down until we could no longer pick up any sound.

    "Seems safe," I said. We didn''t have any other option. I sat by the edge of the hole so my feet dangled into the hole. "Ladies first, right?"

    Marylea broke into an awkward grin. "Right."

    I swallowed. "I''ll shout if it''s safe or not, if you can hear me. Send the boys one by one after."

    Marylea nodded, her face clouded with apprehension.

    "See you at the bottom." I gave a little wave and pushed myself off the side.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    I felt like I was hurtling down a bottomless pit. I saw nothing, smelt nothing, and heard nothing but the rush of air and the skirt of my Caval rubbing against smooth stone. The air grew colder, and I imagined frost forming on my fingertips. I kept my arms crossed before my chest, afraid to reach out lest my fingers got chopped off.

    The slide curved left and right. It dipped occasionally, but not so much that my back bent backwards or that I hit the ceiling. It was a smooth, albeit terrifying ride. I wished I had a firefly lamp with me, or one of those glowing pearls in the mermaids'' den. On hindsight, I should''ve pried one of those out for emergency situations like this, though, in fairness, we did have a horde of angry mermaids on our tail.

    Just as I decided the slide was never going to end, a flicker of light appeared ahead. I held my breath, not knowing what to expect. Then the light wrapped around the edges of the slide. All of a sudden, light blinded me and the slide gave way. I fell for less than a second before landing in a bed of pillows.

    It took a second for me to grasp what had just happened. A quick scan of my surroundings told me I was in a bright-colored room, lit by none other than firefly lamps. Where''d they get firefly lamps? I thought they were exclusive to Aragonia. The room was occupied by a large pit of pillows, which I lay nestled in. There was an arched wooden door ahead. It was closed, though I could hear muffled voices and music from behind it.

    Then I remembered I had to signal Marylea. I got to my feet as quickly as I could in a deep pit of pillows, then turned around and poked my head up the slide. I listened for any movement, heard none, and shouted at the top of my voice: "It''s safe! Send them down!"

    I repeated the message a couple more times before clearing the slide. Then I squatted in the pillow pit and waited.

    I was about to get up and shout another time when a whistling sound came from the slide mouth. I crossed my fingers and waited.

    In a few seconds, the limp body of Keenan came hurtling through the slide mouth. He slid off the slide and was immediately enveloped by a mound of cushions.

    "I got you, Keenan," I muttered. I wrapped my arms around his chest and was pleased to feel that it was still warm. Then I felt his forehead and my heart sank; it was still hot enough to fry an egg. Stumbling over pillows, I pulled him backwards, away from the slide mouth. I propped him in a sitting-up position, hoped he was comfortable, and called for Marylea to send Fabe down. Then I squatted by the side to wait for Fabe''s arrival.

    Fabe was easier to move because he was so light. I lined the two boys up side-by-side and called for Marylea to come down. Soon enough, Marylea landed in the cushion pit, gasping and flailing.

    "It was so dark," she sputtered. She looked around. "Hey. This is nice."

    "It sure is an improvement from what we''ve been through," I replied. "Though I wouldn''t let my guard down just yet."

    Marylea''s gaze fixed on the wooden door. "You think there''ll be people behind that door?"

    I bit my lip. "If there are, I sure hope they''re friendly."

    Just then, the door knob turned. I moved protectively before the two boys and steeled myself in the fluffy pillow pit. Marylea froze.

    The door swung open slowly, so slowly it was painful.

    Behind it stood a man with a white beard that covered nearly his whole face. He wore a fatherly smile.

    "Santa Claus?" Marylea whispered.

    I''d heard of that jolly old man the Others called Santa Claus, who was supposedly the reason behind gifts under a decorated pine tree on Christmas mornings in the Other World. Aragonian children mocked this tradition, partly because - really, Santa Claus? - but mainly because we secretly wished we celebrated Christmas too.

    The bearded man raised his eyebrows, and his smile cracked wider. "Name''s Jud," he said, his voice cheery and loud. "Welcome to the Tavern." He stepped away from the door, allowing us a glimpse through the doorway.

    "Nice place," said Marylea. I agreed. From what little window we had into the Tavern, we could see that it was a large cavern, apparently carved into the heart of Mount Dagger. It was bustling with people walking in a large market place set in a pit below us. Elevated corridors, carved into rock, were lined with curtained rooms decorated with bright cloths and furniture.

    "Come on out. We''re friendly," Jud said. His eyebrows waggled like furry caterpillars. "Who''s that behind you?"

    When we hauled the boys out of the pillow pit, Jud''s cheerful exterior dissipated.

    "Oh no," he said gravely. "The Merfolk."

    Hope had sprung to life in me. "You know what happened to them?"

    "We''ve seen this before," said Jud. "Come. Hurry." He eyed us with newfound respect. "How did you get them out of there?"

    "Nesseria helped," I said.

    Jud cracked a grin. "I don''t know how you did it, but great job."

    "Can you save them?" I asked, as Marylea and I hoisted the two boys towards the door.

    "We have tried," Jud said. "And we were close."

    My hope died. "Close?"

    Jud was quiet for a bit. "The previous ones got to use too late. Maybe we''ll succeed this time. Come. Lerickel will tend to them. Lerickel''s my wife." There was a lilt of affection in his voice as he said his wife''s name. I felt a surge of envy, and my mind shot towards Tem.

    I shook the resulting pain out of my system. Now wasn''t the time.

    As we emerged from the pillow chamber, all eyes turned to us. The citizens of the Tavern froze in the middle of their everyday lives.

    "Don''t worry about them," Jud said to us. "They''re just wary of new arrivals. With good reason. We''ve had a few hoodlums come by recently."

    I paused. "Aren''t you worried about us?" I asked.

    "Naw. You seem like good people," he said, smiling so stars twinkled in his eyes. "I like to think I''m a good reader of character."

    "What happened to those hoodlums?" Marylea asked. "Did you chase them away?"

    Jud laughed. "They were looking for the Keeper. We simply sent them on their way. Let the Serpeople deal with them."

    "We''re on our way to the Keeper too," I said, and immediately regretted it when I saw the expression on Jud''s face.

    He stopped in his tracks, which happened to be in the middle of a steep stairway curving from the pillow chamber to the marketplace-pit. I tried not to think about falling off.

    He put his arms on his thick waist. "What business do you have with the Keeper?"

    Jud blocked the entire stairway, so we had no choice but to explain ourselves while on the narrow steps, each dragging an unconscious boy behind us. We left out the part about Marylea being the Shaper and me being the Princess, though. We didn''t know if we could trust him yet.

    "Aragonia, huh?" Jud scratched his beard. "And they finally got a new Shaper. Good for them."

    Something inside me rejected that comment, but it wasn''t about to argue that in front of Marylea.

    "And this new Shaper is causing the Kingdom to refresh."

    "Yes," said Marylea grimly.

    Jud eyed Marylea with suspicion. "Let me guess. You''re the new Shaper."

    Marylea''s surprised expression betrayed the answer.

    Jud guffawed. "You can trust me, you know. Trust us. We''re good people. We won''t harm you." His expression turned grave. "The way to the Keeper is not safe. Perhaps there''s another way."

    "There isn''t," I said. "Why isn''t it safe?"

    Jud shook his head and continued down the stairs. "Creatures. Worse than those Merfolk. And that''s saying something." He looked over his shoulder briefly. "We were glad to send the hoodlums to them, but you..." He began muttering inaudibly to himself.

    Fear pinched at my insides as we made our way down the steps. A few days ago, I would''ve never dreamt the Realm, our home, harbored dangerous creatures out of human blood. Now I was hardly surprised to hear that more awaited us.

    Lerickel and Jud''s room was in the first floor, just across the marketplace. The citizens of Tavern had decided we weren''t a threat, nor anything of interest, and went on with their daily activities, which involved making clothes, running with yipping dogs, baking in clay furnaces, and haggling at stalls laden with fruits and vegetables.

    "Where d''you get your food?" I asked Jud.

    "Buy ''em from a nearby town," he said. "We have underground tunnels leading to other market places. Of course we don''t venture out much. It isn''t safe out there. Not with what''s been happening lately."

    "What''s been happening?" Marylea asked.

    Jud shrugged his shoulders draped with tan leather. "We don''t know. But something is creeping in from the Killi Swamp."

    Marylea looked at me blankly.

    "The Killi Swamp is located north of Ellis," I explained. "It''s a barren land, full of sickness, poverty -"

    "And corrupt people," said Jud. "I heard it used to be a pleasant place. A couple of decades ago. Tragic how things have changed. Look - here we are. Lerickel and my room is up ahead."

    Lerickel and Jud''s room was draped with earth-toned quilts and lit by flickering candles. Lerickel had olive skin, dark wavy hair, and even darker almond-shaped eyes. The walls were stacked with cabinets and shelves adorned with knick-knacks.

    "Lerickel," said Jud. "These two boys need your help."

    Lerickel, who''d been reclining in a wood chair reading a book, sprang to action. "Set them on the carpet."

    We set the stretchers on the woven red carpet and sat by them. My heart was beating its way out of my chest. "Do you know what''s wrong with them?" I asked.

    Lerickel''s voice was low, soothing, and had a magical tone to it. "They''re trapped in their own minds. Hallucinating, if you will. I will enter their minds and tell them to wake up."

    "How long will that take?" Marylea said, locking and unlocking her fingers. "The mermaids said they''d be dead in twelve hours, and that was this morning."

    "Then we need to hurry," said Lerickel. "Jud, if you would please fetch the ingredients from the cabinets."

    The couple got to work, swiftly and without so much as a grunt. Marylea and I sat on our heels, afraid that a single movement or squeak would disrupt them. We watched as Lerickel ground herbs and flowers in a mortar, tossed them into an iron pot, and stirred while chanting. Clockwise twice, anti-clockwise thrice, clockwise... I lost count halfway. I just wanted her to be successful. The herbs blended into a thick liquid the color of the sun.

    Finally, Lerickel produced a flask of golden liquid and kneeled next to Fabe. "We''ll give him some of this, then I''ll drink some and go to sleep. When I wake, he should wake too."

    I swallowed. "Is it dangerous?"

    Lerickel shook her head. "Not if we do it within the time limit." She smiled at us. "Here goes."

    "I realize I haven''t thanked you yet," I said hurriedly before she fell asleep.

    Lerickel gave me a small smile. "My pleasure." Then her eyelids wafted closed and she fell backwards. Jud caught her in time before she bumped her cranium on the carpet.

    "Now we wait," said Jud calmly. He sat on the stone bed and folded his arms.

    As the three snoozed, Marylea and I sat fidgeting. My feet starting tingling after awhile, so I stood up and stretched.

    Then Fabe jolted upright, coughing and spluttering like a cat with a hairball.

    "Fabe!" I cried, falling to my knees next to him. "You all right?"

    Fabe coughed and spluttered some more before he looked up at me with dazed eyes. "Whaaaat...?"

    Lerickel''s eyelids fluttered open and she pushed herself upright. Her eyes crinkled by the sides when she saw Fabe coughing and heaving. "This boy is safe now."

    I burst out laughing. "That''s great! Fabe, you''re not gonna die!"

    Fabe grinned weakly, then his grin faded. "I was going to die?"

    "You were under the mermaids'' spell," explained Lerickel. "Trapped in a hallucination. You would''ve died in a couple of hours if I hadn''t gotten you. Their hallucinations are powerful, so powerful your brain is over-stimulated until it stops working altogether."

    She stood and picked up the flask of golden liquid again. "Next."

    Marylea cleared her spot to allow for Lerickel to lie down next to Keenan. Her eyes were frantic, confused and hurt at the same time. I was full of sympathy for the poor girl, as well as eagerness for Keenan to wake up safely. I couldn''t love him as a lover, but I loved him as a kung-fu disciple loved his mentor.

    Lerickel fed Keenan the potion, then took a gulp of it herself and lay down. Her eyelids slid shut. The second wait began.

    A minute in, Marylea reached over and took my hand. I squeezed it and looked at her. "It''s going to be okay," I whispered. She nodded, her eyes reddened and watery.

    The time stretched on. Fabe, huddled in a blanket, asked, "Did I take this long?"

    "No," I said, worry creeping into my voice. My shoulders tensed. I could hardly breathe.

    Marylea''s hand twitched in mine.

    Then, movement. Lerickel''s eyelids opened and she sat up.

    I waited, breath caught in my throat, for Keenan to do the same.

    He didn''t stir.

    "What''s going on?" asked Marylea. "Why isn''t he waking up?"

    Lerickel shook her head wearily. "He''s too caught up in his hallucination. He won''t listen to me."

    Marylea''s hand went limp. "You have to save him. You have to!"

    "Don''t worry, child. I will." She looked at Marylea with a focused expression. "But I''ll need your help."

    Marylea''s face went blank. "What?"

    "Normally I wouldn''t reveal a hallucination, as it reveals the hallucinator''s deepest soul, their strongest wanting - but I have to." Lerickel took a small breath. "He''s in a library, really dark, damp, cold. Sitting by a fire. And you -" she stared squarely at Marylea. "- are wailing and beating yourself up about something. He feels terrible - I see it etched in his face - but he can''t do anything about it." Lerickel paused. "I need you to enter the hallucination with me and tell him it''s not real. Tell him to wake up."

    It was like the air in the room had turned into ice. I looked at Marylea, my heart still. Her face was ashen.

    "It''s the only way," said Lerickel in a soft, soothing voice.

    Marylea''s eyes had grown visibly redder. She lowered her head to the ground and blinked furiously. Then she looked up and said in a raspy voice, "Okay. I''ll do it."

    "Good," said Lerickel. She handed the flask of golden liquid to Marylea. "Drink this, then hand it back to me. I''ll see you in the hallucination."

    Marylea took the flask, swallowed, and without taking her eyes off the flask, took a hearty gulp. She avoided my gaze as she handed the flask to Lerickel. Then she lay down and closed her eyes.

    Lerickel fed Keenan more potion, took a sip, and lay down on the red carpet.

    I exchanged a nervous look with Fabe. He gave me a small smile. "It''ll be all right."

    Minutes passed, and the three still did not stir.

    "Wanna hear something funny?" said Fabe. "My hallucination was that I was the head chef in the Aragonian kitchens. Ellisian chefs were clamoring to get my autograph." He gave a strained bark of laughter. "When that lady told me I was dreaming, oh boy did it crush me. But I listened, and here I am."

    "Thanks for telling me, Fabe," I said softly, and forced a smile. It was hard to laugh when Keenan''s life on the line, and I knew that it was killing Marylea to be in there, trying to save him.

    Minutes ticked by, and even Jud started fidgeting. I had to will my lungs to remember to breathe. The air seemed to grow thick as quicksand.

    Then Keenan sprung into a sitting up position and started hacking like he had a fish bone stuck in his throat.

    I was nearly bowled over by how happy I felt. I laughed. Happy tears sprung in my eyes.

    When he stopped hacking, he looked up at my gleeful face. "Ash," he said, his voice still weak.

    "Yay, you''re all right," I said, beaming.

    He coughed some more. "I feel like I should be dead." He pressed a fist against his chest, as if something hurt inside.

    Lerickel sat up and smiled. "My work here is done," she said.

    Last to get up was Marylea, who looked dazed, hurt and confused, if one could feel so much at one moment. She got to her feet, wobbled a little and touched my shoulder for support.

    Then she turned to Keenan and said softly, "I forgive you," before heading out of the room.

 Chapter 17

    Gathered around a blazing campfire with a mug of hot chocolate wrapped in my hands, and with Fabe and Keenan both up and healthy, I felt more content than I had since the Loki face-planted in the forest.

    I couldn''t say the same about Marylea. The girl with the flaming red hair sat next to me, staring at the floating marshmallows in her cup. She hadn''t spoken since she left the room.

    "So, you''re set on going to the Keeper, huh?" asked Jud.

    "We need to," said Fabe. "Or Aragonia will perish."

    "It won''t, exactly," corrected Keenan. "It is only its inhabitants, objects, buildings that will cease to exist. The same land, replaced by a new people."

    I shuddered. "We need to meet the Keeper as soon as possible."

    "The way to the Keeper Core is treacherous," said Lerickel in a soft, sing-song voice. She swept a wavy lock of black hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear, which I realized were slightly pointy. "You may not all reach the Core alive."

    Fabe groaned.

    "If Jud approves, you guys could stay here," I said, straightening. "I''ll go alone. That way we risk less."

    "I''m going to pretend I didn''t hear that," Marylea said dryly.

    "Oh we''re coming," said Fabe, puffing out his chest.

    Next to him, Keenan nodded as he fixed his steely gaze on me. His eyes were dark, deep, brooding. He had been almost as quiet as Marylea since he woke.

    "Perhaps if you protect each other," said Lerickel, "You might all make it alive."

    "Exactly what dangers will we face?" I asked. I held my breath, braced myself for the answer.

    "Serpeople," said Lerickel. "I know - there''re many evil creatures in the waters around here."

    "Are the waters poisoned or something?" asked Fabe.

    Lerickel shook her head. "We don''t know. The waters have been unsafe for decades." She gave a small sigh. "Anyway, you may or may not meet Serpeople on the way to the Keeper Core. You''ll have to take a boat down a river, and the Serpeople live in one of the caves you will pass. They''ll try to lure you but you must resist. Stuff your ears with cotton, if you must."

    "What do they do to people?" asked Marylea.

    "We don''t know. But we''ve lost many good men because of them."

    "And gotten rid of a few bad ones," added Jud, a twinkle in his eye.

    "What happened to them?" I asked.

    "They never came back. Their boats washed up on shore, empty. No signs of struggle. Nothing."

    "If everyone went missing, how''d you know of the Serpeople?" asked Keenan.

    "There have been survivors," said Lerickel, shifting her gaze to her husband.

    "Me," said Jud, his gruff voice loud in comparison to Lerickel''s. "I survived."

    I stared at him with newfound respect. "What was it like?"

    Jud wet his lips. "While I was there, I was dreaming. They make you dream, see? They fulfill your wildest dreams, but thing is, you''re dreaming. It''s not real. Anyhow, I was dreaming of my wife, Lerickel, when I realized something was off. It wasn''t her. It looked like her, smelt like her, felt like her... but it wasn''t." He put his arm around her and gazed at her with a soft, loving expression. "So I woke up, and I escaped."

    Lerickel put her hand on his and smiled at him.

    "I don''t understand," I said. "Why doesn''t the Keeper deal with them?"

    Lerickel''s eyes were veiled with sadness. "She cannot."

    "Why?"

    "That I cannot say." She looked away. "But she would if she could."

    "Do you speak with the Keeper?" asked Fabe.

    "I used to." She gave us a sad smile. "But no longer, because of the Serpeople."

    Marylea spoke in a tinny voice. "Were you... friends?"

    Lerickel smiled again. "You could say that." She stood and gathered our empty cups. "It''s our little secret. Now, let''s get you ready for the trip, shall we?"

    "I hope you don''t get motion sickness," said Jud, as he led us down a tunnel to the start of our journey to the Keeper Core. "The small boat can be speedy, but it gets awfully rocky."

    "I think that''s the least of our worries," said Fabe weakly.

    Jud gave Fabe a serious, almost sorry look.

    "In all fairness," Jud said, "I''m sure Aragonia appreciates all that you''re doing for them."

    Fabe chortled. "Yeah, maybe Velamiere will give me a raise."

    I grinned. I felt a surge of pride for my companions. We weren''t doing this to be appreciated, no. We were doing this to save our home.

    I told this to Jud, and he beamed. "You''re right. If something were threatening the Tavern ¨C" He looked into the depths of the tunnel, and the side of his lips twitched. "There''s no knowing what I''d do."

    We arrived at the end of the tunnel, which was the entrance to a larger one. This second, larger tunnel had a river running down it, and was lit by giant pearls embedded in the stone ceiling.

    "Those pearls are everywhere," said Keenan, his scholarly mind kicking into full gear. "What are they?"

    "Just pearls," said Jud, shrugging. "I have a feeling the water has something to do with their development."

    Again with this magical water. I wondered if it really was the reason behind the mermaids and Serpeople. If so, where did the water get its magic from?

    "There''s your boat," said Jud, pointing at a wooden boat just large enough to fit the four of us, moored to a rickety jetty. "And here''re some weapons to increase your chances of survival a little bit." He handed out axes and swords. Fabe chose an axe, and Keenan and Marylea each chose a sword. I patted my trusty sword, and Jud nodded.

    He was trying to be casual to calm our nerves, I knew it. But it wasn''t working. My heart pounded so hard it was all I could hear besides the ringing silence and the gentle swishing of the river water against the rocky shores.

    "All right then." Jud wiped the beaded sweat that had formed on his forehead. "Safe travels. Send word when you''re safe."

    I noticed he''d said "when" instead of "if," and smiled at his kindness. "Thanks, Jud." I was not a hugger, so I held a hand out to shake his. "Take care of the Tavern."

    "Oh come here," said Jud, and he pulled me into a bear hug. When my surprise wore off, I put my arms around his large, bulky form, draped with soft animal furs and leather.

    After we''d said our goodbyes and stuffed cotton in our ears, we piled into the boat and pushed off. I turned back to wave at Jud. He grinned, the edges of his puffy beard inching upwards.

    Lerickel hadn''t come to send us off. I had a sinking feeling it was because she found it hard sending four young adults to their doom.

    I tried to shake that thought out of my head, but it lingered as I stared ahead at the dark, glassy river water. Keenan and I rowed, stroking the water like a mother does her child. We didn''t have to exert much force; the river had a current on its own that carried us along. Fabe and Marylea sat at the bow, staring into the unknown.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    For about thirty minutes we rowed in tandem, matching our strokes to each other''s. The cotton balls in my ears muffled the rush of river water against the curve of the boat and the rocky walls. It was almost a peaceful journey, but I''d learnt not to relax under any circumstances. Often times, peace harbored something sinister.

    Then I heard a voice.

    "Ash. I''m here."

    My ears perked up like a rabbit''s. My heart stilled.

    "I''m here."

    I whipped to the left to face the direction of that sweet, sweet voice. There was a cave opening situated in the middle of the rock wall, and before it, a sandy bay spread out like a flat crescent moon. A soft, orange light flickered from inside the cave depths.

    "Tem?" I called. "Are you in there?" I turned to Keenan. "Do you hear him?"

    Keenan stared straight ahead, his eyes wide and blank. That wasn''t an expression Keenan wore very often.

    Frustration built up inside me like hot steam. I reached up and yanked the cotton balls out of my ears. They were muffling Tem''s voice. "Tem?" I called. My voice echoed in the vast tunnel, bouncing off and everywhere.

    "Ash, I''m here."

    My spirits soared. "Guys, we need to turn that way," I said. "I hear Tem''s voice. He''s close!"

    Still no response. My three companions stared straight ahead, their faces blank. Then Keenan shot to attention and started steering to the left. He looked anxious, like he''d seen a shark starboard. I noticed he''d pulled the cotton balls out of his ears, too. They rolled around on the floor of the boat like tumbleweeds.

    I stared at him, confused, but didn''t object. We were headed in the direction Tem''s voice was coming from. And that was all that mattered.

    I was so happy I could fly. Tem was back. He was back! I remembered the last time I saw him: his fingers, reduced to little nubs, his eyes wide, full of unspoken words. Then I remembered the last three words he''d said to me.

    My stomach squirmed.

    "I''m coming for you, Tem," I said, my voice carrying a frantic edge. "Wait for me. I''m coming."

    ***

    Tem and I were in a meadow. The Aragonian castle loomed ahead, its red and orange flags waving in the wind. The air smelt of spring and cinnamon buns. It was Market Day; Aragonia bustled with activity. Happy Aragonians partook in the celebrations, feasting, playing games and enjoying the divine weather. Children ran along the rooftops, as they were always prone to do. Normally I would yell at them to get down, but today I felt strangely at peace.

    I bit into a cinnamon bun, leaned into Tem''s lean chest, and sighed.

    How we got there I didn''t know. I didn''t care. Tem was here, Aragonia was safe, and the world was beautiful.

    "I''m so glad you''re back," I said softly.

    Tem tipped my chin up slowly so I was facing him. His eyes were wide with confusion. "Was I gone?"

    "You disappeared." I shuddered. "Aragonia started refreshing, and you disappeared." I reached out to touch his face. It was baby smooth and warm as the fresh bun I held in my other hand. "You''re back. Everyone''s safe. Life is perfect."

    Tem squeezed me from behind. "I won''t leave you, silly. Aragonia won''t leave you."

    I purred like a contented cat. Happy.

    Then a flash of lightning erupted from the azure blue skies. A flock of birds erupted from a nearby tree, squawking in alarm.

    I sat up with a jolt. "What was that?"

    Tem''s hold around my waist loosened. "Ash..."

    I turned to look at him, and saw that the tips of his messy brown hair was flaking into gold dust. His face was pulled into a frown, his eyes red and puffy, as if he''d been crying.

    "No!" I cried. I patted his hair down, trying to keep his hair intact. "Stop! Please don''t." Hot tears swarmed my eyes. "I can''t do this again!"

    Tem''s face was sad, helpless. "I won''t leave you," he said softly. "I promise I won''t." Then the sides of his face flaked into gold dust that rose into the air, where they were swept away by whistling storm winds. I grabbed at the gold dust, desperate to hold onto him, but they slipped through the gaps in my fingers. I sat back and watched in horror as Tem''s face vaporized before me, the way he''d vaporized on his wedding day.

    His lips moved as they pinched into gold dust. "I love you," he whispered.

    Then he was gone.

    I stood, feeling like I''d been stabbed and had my heart wrenched out of my chest. The blue sky had given way to rolling, dark clouds, from which flashed erratic bouts of lightning. The storm winds wrestled with the trees and wrenched at my Caval. Then the Aragonian flags were torn off their poles, one by one, as if plucked off by an invisible giant. The stone blocks of the castle crumbled to the scrambling, shrieking people below.

    I buried my hands in my face and screamed.

    I jolted upright, panting. The meadow was gone. My tailbone ached from sitting up so quickly on hard stone floor. My fingers brushed the damp, gritty surface of the floor I sat on. A quick scan of my surroundings told me I was sitting in a stone cell a little wider than my body height. I was alone.

    I sat still, painfully aware of the emptiness in my chest. It was as if a swarm of rats had gnawed into my chest cavity and cleaned it out.

    It was not real. Nothing about the meadow was real. Tem wasn''t back. He never was. Soon everything I knew and loved would be wiped clean, empty and meaningless like a blank slate.

    Somehow, losing Tem a second time was much more painful than the first. While the first time was excruciating, the second time was like a sledgehammer that''d knocked all the wind out of me. I clutched at my heart and lay on my side. Then I rolled myself into a ball like a lost baby mouse, and cried.

    For the longest time I heard nothing but my sobs and hiccupping. When my body finally tired and the sobbing eased, I pulled myself up against the wall and bumped my head lightly against the blocks. While my skull throbbed in protest, my heart couldn''t find room to care. Give me amnesia. Perhaps then I''d forget the pain.

    Then my ears tuned towards a sound so happy I couldn''t believe what I was hearing. I heard laughter, revelry, cheering.

    Someone calling my name.

    I stood up and missed the swish of my Caval on my legs. I looked down and saw that I was clothed in my underclothing of white cotton tunic and pants. My loyal Caval and sword were gone. Whoever had captured us must''ve seized them.

    I walked to the door, realized it wasn''t locked, and pushed it open. Which dungeon master didn''t lock prison doors?

    I stepped out of my cell and saw many more prison doors, each a thick slab of metal with a small window at the top that was barred. I was in a simple stone corridor lined with torches that provided meagre warmth in the chill environs of the dungeon. A cacophony of voices echoed in the empty stone corridor, all of them coming from various cells.

    I followed a familiar voice. My dazed mind refused to recall a name, or a face; it only knew it was a familiar voice.

    "Ash, you''re too hard on yourself. You need only memorize one chapter."

    The fog cleared, and suddenly I knew who it was. An ache crept into my empty heart. Keenan''s voice was so soft, so full of love. He was dreaming of me. Of the love I could never return.

    I heard a laugh, one I hadn''t heard in a long time. A contented sigh. "Shall we go for a ride afterwards? I know of a trail down by the creek that has a spectacular patch of lavender. I know you love the scent."

    I peeked into the room his voice was coming from. My face blushed with embarrassment from invading his privacy like that. Perhaps I should wake the others, let them wake him... No. He wouldn''t want the others to see him like that.

    Keenan sat up, his eyes closed, his arms hugging something invisible. He, too, had been stripped to only his gray cotton underclothes. He laughed again. Then he craned his face, puckered his lips.

    "Stop!" I cried, then clasped my mouth with my hand. I hadn''t meant to say it, hadn''t meant to wake him that way.

    Keenan stilled. His arms fell, and his eyelids flew open. He blinked once, twice, and looked around the bleak cell. Then he looked right at me.

    His gaze burned my face. I looked away, feeling my cheeks burning so hot they could cook an egg.

    "Oh," he said, his face sinking with disappointment. "It was all an illusion, wasn''t it? No, wait. Never mind. Don''t answer that."

    I didn''t know what to say anyway. I stood there, unspeaking, and he just stared at the ground. Then I mustered my voice and said, "C''mon, let''s go get the others."

    We found Marylea in the next cell in a sitting up position. Her red locks were matted but still relatively clean looking. She was bent over and laughing at something. I went up to her shook her awake before she revealed anything embarrassing.

    When she opened her eyes, I saw the light in her eyes fizzle out and die.

    "What just happened?" she asked. "Where am I?" Her gaze fixed on Keenan, whose face was ashen. "Was I dreaming?"

    "Yes, Lea," I said. "The Serpeople put us in a trance."

    Her eyes reddened almost instantly. Her face flushed, and she beyond me at Keenan, who stood still as a scarecrow. I could almost hear her shouting inside her mind. Ash, why did you wake me?

    Because it wasn''t real, Lea.

    "Fabe''s next," I muttered, and left the cell. Keenan followed closely behind me, as if Marylea''s disappointment was too painful for him to bear. Marylea sat alone, silent, before she got up to join us.

    I strained my ears for Fabe''s voice. In the door across Marylea''s cell, someone was moaning in a way that induced serious goosebumps. Then I heard the familiar chirpy voice coming from the next cell over.

    "Yangzhou fried rice, comin'' up. Oy, Velamiere, thaw some carrots and peas for me. Hurry, Dimitri''s waiting."

    "He''s over there," I said, pointing.

    We found Fabe standing up, grinning from ear to ear, his arms moving as if he was cooking with a giant wok. I swung his door open, placed a firm hand on his shoulder, and shook him awake.

    Like the others, his face fell the moment his eyelids lifted. He blinked once, twice.

    Then his smile burst right back on his face. "Oh my Stars, Ash. That was AWESOME. Best dream ever. Velamiere was my kitchen slave!" His grin widened. Then he caught sight of our grim faces, and his grin faded. "What?"

    At least one of us enjoyed their dream.

    "Nothing. Now that we''re all awake, help me wake the others. There''re more prisoners in here," I said.

    "Not so fassssst," hissed a cold voice. I stepped out into the corridor and gasped. A snake with a human head stood a foot taller than me, its golden scales glinting in the torch light. Its emerald eyes flashed. It had a broad torso which narrowed down the waist into a swishing tail, and one of its two arms held a glowing trident. The creature wore a smart purple and gold guard uniform.

    The serpent-like creature spread its thin, bronze lips and cried, "They''re awake!" Its voice carried a snakelike, ethereal quality, like it was speaking through a fog.

    Fabe squealed, spun on his heels and darted off in the opposite direction, only to smack into another Serperson.

    The Serperson he''d bumped into bared its fangs, each one seemingly sharpened with ruthless precision. "Back off!" He brandished his trident and pointed it at Fabe.

    Fear and dread raced through my veins. I should''ve known this prison-break was too easy.

    The Serperson Fabe bumped into noticed my movement and cackled. Five more soldiers appeared around the corner to stand behind him, and I found out what had tickled his funny bone.

    Five more appeared on the other end of the corridor, so there were twelve guards in total. We were grievously outnumbered.

    I looked at my companions. All of them had bleak expressions on their faces.

    "What do you want with us?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from quivering.

    "Interesssting. Few have ever woken. Come with usss," the Serperson said. "King Gargaron will want to talk to you."

    I heard more laughter coming from a distant cell. Someone was making faint, kissy noises.

    "What are you doing with them?" I asked.

    "Not your problem," hissed the Serperson. "Follow usss. Don''t worry. We never ill-treat our guesssstsss." His bronze lips curved upwards, as if sharing an inside joke. "Hurry now. Oh will King Gargaron be excited."

 Chapter 18

    For a King of the Serpent people, Gargaron''s chambers were astonishingly simple.

    The room was furnished with a wooden table and the grey cloth armchair he sat in. Its stone walls were bare but for fiery torches that lit and warmed the small space. Gargaron wore nothing but a thin dress the color of seaweed, which dulled even his brilliant gold scales.

    When the Serguards opened the rickety door and pushed us into his chambers, he burst into a sunny smile.

    My mind couldn''t decide if it should be afraid or bewildered. For someone who called himself a King, he sure didn''t live or behave like one.

    "I assume you escaped the illusions," said the King, clasping his clawed fingers together. "Intriguing. How ever did you do it? The last - and only - guy who did it escaped before we got to ask him."

    "If I tell you will you let us go?" I had a sudden, paranoid fear that they might keep us for experiments.

    "Oh yes." Gargaron sat back in his chair and it exhaled a puff of dust. "You have a King''s word. We have enough energy sources. You''re all free to go once you let me in on your little secret."

    I clenched my fist. "How do I know I can trust you? You almost imprisoned me and my friends for eternity."

    Gargaron smiled and waved a nonchalant hand. "We never keep people for life. When new ones come in, we let the old ones out." As he spoke, a glimmer appeared in his eyes. The same glimmer I had seen numerous times in Achilles'' gold ones.

    "So four people lose their chance of leaving if we go?" asked Marylea, her voice tinny.

    "Yes. But it won''t be long until someone new comes along. People will always want to meet the Keeper." There, that glimmer again.

    "This is ridiculous," said Keenan, his voice strong. "What do you need from us?"

    Gargaron''s lips curved and he leaned towards us. "Your desires." He stood. "You see, us Serpents, we''re a simple race. We don''t desire much, only to survive. Humans, on the other hand, want all sorts of things. It is this want, this desire, that we feed off on. Desire brings power, because it''s ultimately tied to hope. We draw this energy, and we flourish. You will be surprised how much strength your desire holds. I admire your willpower and strength. It is something our race treasures. So, my dear girl, how did you wake?"

    "If I tell you," I said slowly, "Will you give us our things back?"

    "Your things?" Gargaron asked. "Oh. Your clothes and weapons? I''m sorry, can''t have you armed while you''re here, can we?"

    "No offence," said Fabe, "but I feel like a million ticks are crawling over my skin."

    "Shhh," said Gargaron. "Let the girl speak."

    I cocked my head. "Our clothes and weapons?"

    "Clothes, yes. Weapons, no. Don''t you trust us?" He grinned, showing off a perfect row of pointed teeth.

    "This whole situation makes it a little hard to trust you."

    "You have no choice," said Gargaron. "Now tell, before I lose my patience."

    I clenched my fist and said simply, "There is no secret. All I did was wake up."

    Gargaron sneered. "Your answer is a little short for my taste. Care to elaborate, missy?"

    I felt something stab my heart; recalling the illusion sliced me open inside. I swallowed, hard. "My illusion took a turn for the worse, and I woke."

    Gargaron raised an eyebrow. "Took a turn for the worse, eh? Something must be wrong with our serum. Your illusions were meant to be perfect." He snapped his clawed fingers. "That, or you must be gifted." With a flick of his finger, he beckoned me to him. Before I could react, scaled hands gripped my arms and dragged me to him.

    "Don''t hurt her," said Keenan. He stepped forward, and two guards immediately grabbed onto him.

    "I''ll be okay," I called over my shoulder. I sounded convincing even to myself.

    Gargaron licked his claw and sneered. "Let''s see how gifted you are." In a brisk motion, he nicked my right arm. I cried out in pain. A small trickle of blood rolled out of the cut. He brushed his finger over my wound, its hard scales rubbing against the tender area. I tried my best not to wince. I didn''t want him to see my weakness.

    Gargaron brought his blood-stained finger to his lips. A forked tongue darted out of his mouth, and he tasted my blood with loud, smacking noises.

    His face brightened. "I knew it."

    I caught a sinister flash in his eyes and kept my silence.

    "You -" He pointed a finger at me, the one stained with my blood. "You carry His gifts. Who are you? How did you get them?"

    I wished my mind worked quick enough to come up with a clever way to get us out of this safely, but it didn''t. So I just said, "I have no idea what you''re talking about."

    Gargaron laughed. "Perhaps he''s waiting for a time to reveal himself to you. Who am I to thwart the plans he has for you?" He waved a scaly arm. "You and your friends are free to go."

    I heard Fabe''s surprised cry from behind me. "Really?"

    "Oh, wait." He fixed his bronze cat-eyes at me. "Before you leave, I''d like you to pass a message on to the Keeper. Tell her we know about her little secret, and we''re not afraid to use it." He smiled, his fangs glinting in the flickering torchlight. "Very well then. Go."

    We were silent as the Serguards escorted us towards the cave exit. My mind was brimming with questions. What was it he tasted in my blood that led to his crazy speech? Who was this enigmatic "He" that Gargaron spoke of?

    As the guards dragged us along the dimly-lit tunnels, I rubbed shoulders with Keenan. We exchanged equally concerned glances. I was sure he was itching to hole himself up in the library to research the Serpeople, and find out if Gargaron''s speech held any ground.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    We neared the dungeons where other human prisoners remained imprisoned. I didn''t know who they were or what they were like. They could be the hoodlums Jud spoke of with distaste in his usually cheery eyes. Or they could be innocent citizens of the Realm, simply seeking an audience with the revered Keeper.

    All I knew was we couldn''t leave them here. For some reason, my gut wasn''t entirely convinced Gargaron was speaking the truth when he said he released prisoners on a regular basis.

    The guards escorting us chatted to themselves, confident we weren''t a threat. After all, we were unarmed, weak, and drained from our illusions.

    They had underestimated us.

    "Hey, Serguards," I said.

    The two turned around, bewildered at my nerve. I steeled my left foot on the ground and sent my right sailing in a round kick. Just like Tem had shown me. My sandals connected with their jaws, sending them flying to the ground. Most importantly, their tridents were knocked out of their hands and clattered to the ground.

    "Keenan, grab the other!" I commanded, as I darted for the closest trident. Keenan snapped into action quick for a scholar cooped up in a dark library, and snatched up the second trident. Together, we pointed the tridents at their previous owners. "Not a cry," I said.

    "What do you want?" snarled one of the Serguards. "We were letting you go."

    "Sorry," I said. "Now sleep tight." I brought the edge of the trident onto his forehead. His eyes rolled shut and head slumped to the side. Next to me, Keenan did the same.

    "I don''t think I''ve done that before," Keenan wheezed.

    "You did great," I said. "Now let''s go save the others."

    Marylea jogged to keep up. "Am I the only one who''s surprised by the sudden turn of events?"

    Fabe snorted. "If you were, you don''t know Ash well enough."

    "Listen," I said. "No one gets hurt. Not even the Serguards. I just want the other prisoners to be safe."

    "You sure this is a good idea, Ash?" asked Keenan, who jogged to my side. "What if the prisoners are the hoodlums Jud was talking about?"

    I paused to think of an answer. But I found none. I was acting on pure gut instinct; there was no logic with what we were doing. "If they are those hoodlums Jud spoke of, I''m sure they''ll be grateful," I said lamely. "At least I hope so."

    The dungeons were silent except for the occasional moan and shout of laughter. Anyone who didn''t know what was going on would think this was a looney house.

    "Sounds like they''re enjoying themselves," said Fabe. "Perhaps we shouldn''t spoil their fun. Hey, I''m just kidding."

    As I jogged towards the dungeons, I noticed a faded red door to my right. It had a round window at the top, and no laughter or moans were coming out of it. I peeked in. It was not lit inside, but as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw mountains of weapons: axes, knives, bows, swords, shields. Weapons collected by the Serpeople from their prisoners.

    In the midst of all that chaos, I spotted my dear sword. My heart seemed to sprout wings and soar up my throat. Then I saw two Cavals, sprawled on top of a clothing pile on the right of the room: my white one, glowing faintly in the dark, and Keenan''s midnight blue one, barely visible in the darkness.

    I gestured towards the door, and my friends emitted gasps as they looked through the window.

    The door wasn''t locked. We entered the room cautiously, checked for movement, then, once we decided the coast was clear, helped ourselves to our weapons and more. I slid my Caval onto my shoulders, feeling warm and protected again. My sword rested in its hilt by my right hip, where it should be.

    "I feel better prepared to free some humans now," said Fabe, patting the axe Jud had given him.

    We surveyed the dungeons. There were four prisoners, all of them burly, hairy men. My mind flashed to Jud''s mention of hoodlums, whom he''d sent to the Keeper through the same route. Could these men really be them?

    Cold foreboding slithered up my back. Jud hadn''t told us why he''d classified the men as "hoodlums."

    Hoodlums or not, we couldn''t leave them here.

    "Just shake them and they''ll wake," I said. The others nodded, and we split up to wake the remaining prisoners. "Be careful," I added.

    I entered the cell of a man whose thick mop of black hair and beard was knotted and housed sand and grit. He lay up against the stone wall, arms outstretched, and I saw a series of black crosses and dots lining his skin. His grimy lips were puckered, and he cooed with his eyes closed. He was dressed in a gray cloth, which looked like rats had decided to make their bathroom.

    Trying to keep my stomach bile down, I reached out, gripped his shoulder and shook. Then I backed away and placed my hand on my sword hilt.

    First, he lowered his arms. Then his swollen eyes blinked once, twice. They carried a far-off, dazed expression before they focused on the wall directly ahead of him. He scanned the surroundings and his gaze landed on me.

    "Who''re you?" he slurred. "Where''s Mathilda and Jane?"

    "You were dreaming," I said. "It was an illusion. The Serpeople have been keeping you in that illusion until we woke you."

    He blinked. "Why''d you wake me? I was having a hell of a time in there."

    Irritation pricked me.

    "You''re welcome to stay if you like," I said.

    "No, wait." He staggered to his feet, leaning on the wall for support. "I remember now. Those morons captured me and my guys. We were on our way to see the Keeper." He grinned, his teeth stained with black. "Thanks."

    "You''re welcome," I said, a tad surprised by his manners. "Why were you going to see the Keeper?"

    He staggered towards me, holding his hands out for balance. He walked like a drunkard. "We were going to ask the ol'' mighty Keeper to do something about our home. Killi Swamp. The barren marshland that isn''t fit for any living soul to trod upon, let alone live in. We''re worthy of more." His footsteps steadied. "Where''re my friends?"

    A gruff voice called from the corridor. "Geary? Is that you?"

    Geary walked past me and pushed the door open. "Stieve, it''s you!" The two men hugged and clapped each other on the back. "We''re free now. We''re free!"

    I stood back, watching the two men embrace with a sick feeling in my gut. Stieve, too, was covered in black dots and crosses, though it wasn''t only on his arms, but the back of his neck as well. He had tangled red hair that fell over his broad shoulders, and a thick beard that had seen better days.

    "Almost," said Keenan, who emerged from one of the cells. "We need to get out of here first."

    Stieve''s eyes widened. "Louey? Ey, Louey!" Steve acted like he didn''t hear us and went to hug his friend. "How was your dream? Did you have fun?"

    Louey had a pony tail that resembled the straw end of a broom and looked none too happy to be woken. He winced as Stieve squeezed him. "My ribs hurt."

    The last guy emerged, and the others cried out in unison, "Oswald!" Oswald had a thick, blonde beard and a shiny head. The four huddled together other like a ball team.

    "Okay, guys, we need to go," I said. "We didn''t exactly cover our tracks."

    The guy named Stieve with an eyepatch over his left eye turned to look at me. "Tracks? What tracks?"

    "We knocked out a couple of Serguards," said Marylea. "And we had no place to hide them."

    "Serguards?" Stieve''s face went blank for a moment, then recognition filled in. "Are you talking about those stinking snake-like creatures who lured us into their caves?" A menacing glint flickered in his eye. "I''ll kill them!"

    His companions cheered. "Kill those dumb beasts!"

    Bile pushed up my throat. "No! No one gets hurt. We leave, now."

    "After what those serpents did to us?" Geary growled. "Look at my beard! I must''ve been stuck in here for years!" He turned to his companions. "I say we get some weapons and rid these caves of those filth." He directed his gaze towards me and pointed at my sword. "Where''d you get that?"

    I was freaking out inside, wondering what monsters I''d just unleashed.

    "Where''d you get that sword?"

    "They left it with me," I said, gripping my hilt.

    "You''re a terrible liar," he snarled. "Come on. Let''s search!"

    "Don''t kill them!" I said. "They were going to release you."

    Geary snorted. "No one leaves these caves. We''re lucky we''re alive."

    "Don''t be stupid," said Marylea. "We''re frightfully outnumbered."

    Geary seemed to think for a second. "Then we''ll kill any guards we see."

    A whoop rang the air. "Found it!" said the guy named Oswald. He pulled the weapons room door open and they filed it like monkeys that''d found a banana stash.

    "Trout," I cursed.

    They ran out carrying a bevy of weapons, which they hoisted in the air. "Let''s go kill some serpent filth!" They roared with cheers and filed out the dungeons.

    "We have to stop them," I said, but even as I said it, I knew it was no use. Trying to stop them would be counterproductive.

    "Don''t be too hard on yourself," said Keenan. "You were doing the right thing."

    "Innocent people might die," I said. "How did I do the right thing?"

    "Serpeople," Marylea corrected.

    "You did the only thing you would''ve done," Keenan said. "C''mon. Time to find a way out."

    Fabe put a hand on my shoulder. "If those hoodlums were right, and the Serpeople never meant to release us - they sort of saved us, didn''t they?"

    If that was supposed to make me feel better, it didn''t.

 Chapter 19

    We barreled through the tunnels. My feet were lead; I kept tripping over them and stumbling into walls. Keenan resorted to slinging his arm around mine and dragging me after them. I did not, could not watch the hoodlums slaughter any Serpeople. They had run ahead of us, eager to murder some serpents.

    We went right at a fork. Ahead, we heard shouts, hissing, shrieks, and blades slicing through flesh. Serguards cried for "Reinforcementssss!"

    "Yeah right!" Geary shouted. There was a swish, a sickening crack, and the Serguard was no more.

    Keenan tugged at my arm. "C''mon, the boat''s not far."

    The hoodlums had cleared a path for us. Serpeople lay decapitated on the floor, gold blood oozing onto the ground. They all had friends and family that would never speak to them again. Did the fact that they had gold blood make them less human? The stabbing in my chest and bile in my throat said no.

    "I''m sorry Ash, but we''ve got to go," said Fabe, tugging on my Caval.

    I closed my eyes and said a quick blessing for the fallen, then followed after the others.

    We emerged from the humid caves into the airy cavern breathless, with blood pumping in our ears. The cavern was bathed in soft, white light from the giant pearls overhead. They cast enough light for me to see something that choked all the air out of me.

    "No!" cried Marylea. "Stop them!" She ran towards the dock where our boat was - had been. It was now afloat on the river, all four hoodlums piled into it.

    Geary saw us and winked. "Thanks for the ride." Their bloodied weapons lay on the floor of the boat, staining it a sticky gold.

    "We shouldn''t have woken them," I cried. "I''m sorry I was so stupid."

    "No time to beat yourself up, Ash," said Fabe. "I hear Serpeople coming."

    I could always count on Fabe to set my priorities straight.

    "You''re right." I cast my eyes around the cavern, and couldn''t believe my luck when I saw what would be our escape. "There," I said, pointing at the walls. "That ledge looks just wide enough for us to walk on. We can hide in that crevice."

    "I''ll go first," Marylea said, and made for the ledge.

    "Please be careful." I inhaled, exhaled, and gestured for Fabe to follow. He swallowed and walked to the ledge.

    "I''m sorry I set the hoodlums free," I said quietly to Keenan as we scaled the ledge. I had to apologize to someone before the guilt ate me alive.

    "Not your fault," he muttered under his breath. He was wider than the rest of us, and he had to crabwalk across the ledge so he was practically hugging the walls. "Hold on a sec. I''m trying not to fall." He flashed me a quick smile, and I managed to curl my lip.

    We made it to the crevice and started edging our way in. I had barely squeezed my petite frame into the crevice before Serguards pattered out of the cave.

    "The boat''ssss gone!"

    "Blardy fangssss. They got away."

    One of them shouted into the cavern. "Watch out. We''ll remember what you did to usssss."

    I squeezed my eyes shut. I''m sorry. I''m so sorry.

    I felt soft skin brush my hand. Then a hand squeezed my palm. It was like Keenan could read my mind. Almost.

    I twisted my hand away. I didn''t deserve his comfort.

    "Are they gone?" whispered Marylea. "Air''s getting pretty thin in here."

    I trained my ears on the crevice opening. "I think so," I whispered back. "Let me check." I inched outwards and peeked out. Sure enough, the cave opening was empty.

    "It''s clear," I said. "Move out."

    One by one, we eased out of the crevice. We skirted the ledge to put more distance between us and the cave entrance. Finally, we reached a platform that was wide enough to fit the four of us without one of us tipping over the edge. It was there that we finally stretched out our stiff limbs.

    "So," said Marylea, "What''s next?"

    "This ledge seems to stretch as far as I can see," I said. "Hopefully it leads to the Keeper Core."

    Fabe frowned. "What''re the chances it does?"

    "If it doesn''t, I guess we swim."

    "I hope not." Fabe hugged himself. "I thought I saw something fat and silver in those waters."

    "The last thing I want to see," said Marylea. "More murderous marine creatures."

    "There seems to be a lot of those," said Keenan. "C''mon. We need to keep moving."

    I looked at both of them. Marylea and Keenan seemed to be talking normally again, just without the snuggling and giggles. It seemed near-death situations shelved heartbreak and brought cordiality. The funny things survival did to us.

    We walked along the platform, me in the lead, Keenan in the back. Ahead of me, glowing purple moss carpeted the already slippery rock.

    "Careful," I said. "It''s mossy ahead."

    I treaded across with painstaking slowness, my sandals hardly finding purchase on the slimy moss. I got across and waited at the other side for Fabe.

    "Slowly," I said.

    "I''ve got this," said Fabe. "Easy p-" And then he slipped and rammed his butt on the jagged rocks. He yelped in pain. His feet flailed and splashed into the water. Thick gleaming fish jumped out of the water and snapped where his feet had just been. Fabe backpedaled from the edge, staring at the water in horror.

    Then he started screaming.

    "It burns!" he cried. "Put it out - it burns!"

    "Fabe," I said. "Nothing''s burning. Your feet, it''s - it''s -"

    "Put it outt!" he screamed.

    I watched, half mesmerized, half terrified, at what was happening to his feet.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    "Fabe, your feet," whispered Marylea, "They''re changing."

    Steam crawled in wisps from his feet, but that wasn''t the most terrifying part. Amidst the smoke, his bare toes stretched to join one another. His extra wide feet pushed against the roped sides of his sandals. Then the steam disappeared, and Fabe''s new feet were in clear view.

    "What the trout?" he cursed. "What happened to my feet?"

    "Flippers" would''ve been a more accurate term. Fabe''s feet had grown webs, and now resembled a frog''s appendage.

    It could be worse.

    The universe had a strange, sadistic way whenever a thought like that passed your head. No sooner had it crossed my mind did Fabe start screaming again. Ominous steam rose once more, this time from his hands.

    He stared at his steaming hands. "Oh trout," he murmured, then his head lolled backwards and bounced on the rock. He was out as a bat in the day.

    "Fabe''s becoming one of them," said Marylea. She looked a little shell-shocked.

    I pictured Fabe with flapping gills in his neck, staring at me with gold eyes.

    "No!" I said. "The Keeper will fix him." Because if she couldn''t, no one else could.

    I hoisted Fabe over my shoulder and stomped on.

    The cavernous tunnel went on for what felt like ages. When my arms started burning from Fabe''s weight, Keenan offered to take him. We ended up taking turns at carrying Fabe while keeping as close to the wall as possible, avoiding the water at all costs.

    Fabe was unconscious but for the occasional moan. Whenever he made a sound, we''d look at him and find a new feature. Gills, webbed hands, elfin ears, scaly skin.

    "Ash?"

    Keenan''s voice broke me out of my vision of a SerFabe. "Yeah?"

    "The hoodlums will have gotten to the Keeper Core by now."

    I bit my lip. "Guess we''ll have to find a way around them."

    He swallowed, and I knew what he was thinking. I wish that''ll be easy.

    I wished it would be too.

    Fabe emitted a loud moan. I looked at Fabe, who was draped over Keenan''s shoulder. Sharp, spiny fins were pushing against his tunic, threatening to rip it apart.

    I gulped. "Um, Keenan -"

    "Shh," he said. "Sharp turn ahead."

    Marylea, who was at the head of the line, poked her head around the turn. The look of alarm on her face answered my questions.

    "They''re waiting," she hissed. "On the shore."

    "What''s over there?" I whispered.

    "A bay. And a wall that stretches almost to the ceiling, with a small gap at the top. I thought I glimpsed leaves poking out through there."

    Leaves in a cave. Interesting.

    "That must be the Core," whispered Keenan.

    "How''re we getting past the gang?" asked Marylea. "There''s no way past them."

    "Maybe they won''t do anything to us," said Keenan. "Maybe they''re just looking for a way in."

    "And you trust them to meet with the Keeper?" asked Marylea, who obviously thought the very idea disgusting. "They''ll make her wipe the other Kingdoms'' resources so their precious swamp will flourish, or something."

    "All they did was kill some Serpeople who meant to imprison us for life."

    "They''re murderers."

    While the two argued, all previous heartbreak forgotten, I scanned the walls for a path to the Keeper Core. There was no other way to the Core but the ledge that led us to the bay.

    "Keenan''s right," I said. "They did nothing to harm us. They mightn''t harm us now."

    "They stole our boat!"

    I bit my lip. I hadn''t forgotten the snide smiles on the hoodlums'' faces as they rowed away, leaving us to the mercy of a group of very angry Serpeople. But we hardly had room to hold grudges right now. There was only one way into the Core, and that way was past the hoodlums.

    Before I could say anything, Fabe made our decision for us by yelling out in agony. "ARRGGHHH."

    The hoodlums'' gruff voices echoed in the empty cavern. "They''re over there! We won''t hurt ya, young''uns. We just need help gettin'' in, tha''s all."

    "Trout, Fabe," Marylea hissed. She rolled her eyes. "Guess we have no other option." She walked around the turn and I heard her say, "Hey, guys."

    Keenan looked at me, resigned. "There was no other way," he said, and followed Marylea.

    The hoodlums met us with open arms. "Sorry we stole your boat," Geary said. "Was the only way. Glad you got away from those monsters."

    "Yeah," added Stieve, who sported a dash of gold blood across his face, like a lightning bolt. "Now we''re all here, safe and sound, eh?"

    I held back my urge to scoff and spit at their feet. "Why haven''t you gone in?"

    "Door''s locked, ain''t it?" said Geary. "Blardy secretary won''t let us in. Said we need permission. Now where da hell we getting this permission, eh?"

    I had a feeling this "permission" was only an excuse to keep a gang of suspicious men out of the sanctuary.

    "Perhaps you can help us, eh?" said Stieve. "Maybe they''ll give you permission." His eyes widened and narrowed. "What happened to your friend?"

    "Fell in the water," said Keenan grimly.

    Stieve guffawed. Then the others caught sight of Fabe and joined in. Their laugh was more annoying than a pack of hyenas''.

    "He''s turnin into one of them!" cawed Oswald. "Is his blood gold, too?" He sneered and pointed at his gold-stained shirt.

    Fear and a hot burst of anger flared in me and my fingers reached for my sword hilt under my Caval. "He''s not turning into one of them," I said fiercely. "Don''t you lay a finger on him."

    "Ey! She''s got a sword!" said Geary. "Relax, missy. Oswald was just kidding. Now, how about you four come here and talk to the secretary, eh?"

    Geary looked at me expectantly. When I stood still, he cocked his head towards the metal door embedded in the stone wall. "Go on," he said.

    I exchanged a look with Keenan, who nodded and swung Fabe over his shoulder and rested him on the sand. Now that his hands were free, he was free to spring into action anytime. I knew it meant he had my back.

    I walked through the sand, its fine white particles tickling my feet through my sandals. The metal door had a rectangular glass pane near the top. The metal window was closed. I raised a bruised knuckle and rapped on the door.

    I waited a few seconds, then rapped again. I was about to rap a third time when the metal window slid open. An eye black as midnight peered through it. "Who are you?" asked a woman''s voice. "Are you with the men?"

    I felt a pang of regret for releasing the hoodlums. "We escaped from the Serpeople cave with them," I said. "But no, we''re not in the same party."

    "We just want to speak to the Keeper," said Geary gruffly from behind me.

    The black-eyed woman studied me. "Who are you?"

    "My name is Ashling Dircourt. I''m the Princess of the Kingdom of Aragonia. That''s Keenan, royal historian, that''s Marylea, our new Shaper, and that''s Fabe. He fell in the water. We''ve come to seek help from the Keeper. Our Kingdom is disappearing."

    "Disappearing?" asked the woman. Then a look of recognition flashed in her eyes. "Kingdoms don''t disappear."

    For a moment, I forgot about the hoodlums, forgot about Serfabe. All that was on my mind was the fact that Aragonia was disappearing, one person at a time, and Tem was one of them.

    "Aragonia is. Can you help us?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice. "Please. Let us see the Keeper."

    The woman was quiet. "I need time to think," she said. "Give me one night, then I''ll decide. You can camp on the beach until then."

    "No delays!" said Geary. "I know what you''re doing. You''re stalling. Maybe you''ll squeak the door open while we''re all asleep and let them in. That''s not happening, lady. Let us in right now if you know what''s good for you."

    "She only wants us to wait," said Marylea.

    "No more waiting!" Geary ran towards me. Before I could wrap my head around the turn of events, Geary had whipped out a dagger and put it to my neck. "You let us in now, lady, and no one gets hurt."

    The black eyes widened in alarm. "Don''t hurt her!"

    I heard a shriek and a shout as Marylea and Keenan got seized by the others. Anger razed through me. "Don''t touch them!" I cried. I reached for my sword, but Geary caught my hand and held it against my back. I gave a shout of protest. "Let me go!"

    "And let you stab me with that sword of yours?" sneered Geary. "I don''t think so."

    "It''s all right, Ash. We''re fine," said Keenan. "We''re fine."

    "They won''t be fine," snarled Geary. "If this door isn''t open soon."

    My fists were balled so tight my knuckles hurt. "Don''t hurt them or you''ll be sorry," I said through gritted teeth.

    Geary pressed his dagger against my throat. "Shut up, girlie, unless you''d like your blood to fuse with the Serpeople''s golden filth."

    I could smell the tang of Serpeople blood on his blade. It smelt like metal and flowers, blended into a sickening sweet scent.

    "Stop," said the black-eyed lady. "I''ll let you in as long as you don''t hurt them."

    "No, don''t -"

    "Shut up!" said Geary, pushing the dagger against my throat. I swallowed to prevent the bile from rising. Shouldn''t have released them. Stupid, stupid.

    The black eye vanished from the window. The window remained open. Then I heard bolts sliding open, gears spinning, and finally, the metal door swung open.

    Standing at the doorway was a slender, wizened woman with olive skin, wavy black hair and the same inky black eyes I saw through the window. She wore a modest blue dress draped across her right shoulder. A blue teardrop crystal the size of a thumbtack rested on her forehead. Fine wrinkles framed her glittering eyes. Eyes which I imagined would be kind, if not for our current situation. Her shoulders were drawn back, her chin high. The hoodlums didn''t faze her.

    "Now that the door''s open," she said, "I request you let them go."

    "Not so fast," said Geary. He pushed my Caval aside, seized my sword, then he released me with a shove. My sword in his filthy hands, he stomped towards the woman.

    "We want to talk to the Keeper," he demanded.

    The woman raised her chin and looked him squarely in the eye. "You''re looking at her."

 Chapter 20

    "You?" said Geary, his voice heavy with disbelief. "You''re the Keeper?"

    The Keeper straightened. "Yes." She spoke with a foreign lilt. She was petite in size but tall in presence. I was not surprised, myself.

    Geary scoffed. "Prove it."

    "Either you believe me or you don''t," said the Keeper. "Now what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

    "I said prove it!" barked Geary.

    The Keeper''s eyes narrowed to slits. "There is no way for me to prove it to you. State your cause here, or leave."

    Stieve, impatient, cut in from behind. "We want you to lift the curse that''s been placed upon Killi. Nothing will grow, people are sick with illness and corruption, and we haven''t seen sunlight in years."

    A veil of sadness came over the Keeper''s eyes. She bowed her head and said softly, "That curse cannot be lifted."

    "Cut that bull," growled Geary. "You''re the Keeper. You control the land. Now lift the curse or this dagger will find someone''s throat."

    "I''m sorry," the Keeper said. "You think I wouldn''t lift the curse if I could? Do I enjoy watching the people of Killi rotting in their cursed land? No. There''s nothing I can do. His power is so strong it seeped into the land. Contaminated the soil, the water, and the people."

    "He?" Stieve asked. "Who''s he?"

    "What trout crap you spouting, lady?" barked Geary. "Is there another Keeper? Is he the one doing this to us?" He lifted his eyepatch to reveal a reddened patch of skin. "A rogue chipmunk got me the other day. It had fangs, lady. The animals are turning in monsters, just like those Serpeople we just killed!"

    The Keeper shook her head. "There is no other Keeper. Just one stupid enough to fall for trickery."

    "No riddles!" barked Geary. In one swift motion, he grabbed me and pushed his dagger against my throat. "Lift it."

    An outraged cry and shout sounded behind me. There was scuffling, then Keenan cried, "We''re fine!"

    "My friends have your friends," sneered Geary into my ear. "Now, if the Keeper will just behave..."

    My fingers hung by my side, twitching and itching for the hilt of my sword. Geary had tossed my sword aside, and it now lay in the smooth sand, glowing under the luminescence of the giant pearls embedded in the giant ceiling.

    I could elbow Geary in the gut, grab my sword, and fight him one-handed if I had to. But Keenan and Marylea couldn''t, Fabe was passed out, and Tem was gone...

    "All right, all right," said the Keeper, holding out her slender fingers. "Come inside. I''ll show you my monitoring room, and prove to you that I''m the Keeper."

    "No tricks!" spat Geary. His foul spit landed on my cheeks, and I gagged.

    "No tricks," the Keeper repeated softly. Her dress whirled around her legs like waves as she walked.

    Geary released me and pushed me forward. "Go on," he growled.

    "I shouldn''t have woken you," I said in a low voice.

    Geary only laughed.

    Past the doors was a tropical paradise I''d never seen before. Lush greenery with leaves the size of a small boat; flowers of red, yellow and orange, meandering, bubbling brooks flowing through islands of life.

    "Follow me," said the Keeper. She stepped over the brooks deftly in her leather sandals. I was first in line. Geary stomped behind me, his breath raspy and foul. Behind us, Keenan, Marylea, and the three other hoodlums followed.

    We came to a shack made out of bamboo and raised on bamboo stilts, was built before a towering waterfall that crashed into a pool below. The pool flowed into a wide river with water so clear you could see to the rocky bottom.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    "That''s your home?" laughed Geary. "Not enough funds, Keeper lady?"

    The Keeper did not answer. Instead, she walked up the stairs leading up to the shack. I followed closely, and she held the door open for me.

    The shack looked nothing like its exterior. I stepped from a tropical jungle into a room with sheer metallic walls, beeping and blinking controls, and holographic monitors that covered every inch of the walls except for two square windows on either side of the room. It was notably cooler inside and smelt of antiseptic herbs.

    "This is my monitoring room," said the Keeper, her arms resting delicately in a V shape on her front. "Each screen represents each Kingdom - their population size, the weather, political situations, holidays, standard of living. Killi is over here." She walked to the far end of the room and stopped before the second panel from the right.

    As we walked, I couldn''t help scanning the panels for Aragonia. But Geary''s rough shoving made it impossible to read the small words.

    "Killi," Geary read. "Population, one thousand and twenty-six. Weather, thunderstorms. Plague. Standard of living, three. Three out of a hundred, eh?"

    "Ten," said the Keeper quietly.

    Geary tightened his fingers around his dagger hilt. "And you couldn''t do anything about that?"

    The Keeper looked forlornly at the panel. "It was beyond my control."

    "Load of bull! Tell me how to reverse the curse. What''re these buttons for?"

    "Kind sir, I''m afraid you overestimate my abilities. I am not a deity. I have no control over the weather, nor the people. The only control I yield is over the Shapers. My job is to govern the Shapers so they don''t run wild. If my memory doesn''t fail me, your Kingdom is still..." She glanced at the panel. "Shaperless."

    The hoodlums looked stunned.

    Then Geary raised his dagger, cornered the Keeper against the control panels and pressed the dagger against the Keeper''s neck. "More lies!" he shouted. "Our King said a new Shaper arrived years ago."

    I stiffened, but knew I was no help. My sword was still laying in the bay, and Stieve, Oswald and Louey were blocking the doorway.

    The Keeper did not look fazed at the dagger pressed against her neck. "They are the ones lying to you, not me. That Shaper is fake."

    Geary released her with a roar. "Well that explains it, then. Why we''re so cursed! Find us a new Shaper, lady."

    The Keeper reached for a glass of water on the control panel and took a sip. "There is no new Shaper until a descendant of the current one reaches maturity. According to my records, there is no such descendant."

    Stieve stepped forward. "Then find our Shaper!"

    She took another sip. "I don''t know where your Shaper is. I don''t track them outside their Kingdom, where they are not a threat."

    Then something occurred to me. The Keeper''s face looked younger, smoother. The wrinkles around her eyes were gone.

    Oswald, who''d been quiet until now, asked, "How old are you?"

    Geary leered at him like he''d asked a stupid question.

    "I''m a thousand and six," said the Keeper calmly.

    "How are you so young?" asked Stieve.

    "I don''t age." She took another sip.

    "It''s the water!" burst Geary. "It''s the fountain of youth!"

    The Keeper''s eyes widened ever so slightly. "I wouldn''t drink this if I were you. It will kill you."

    Geary lunged for her glass, but before he got to it, the Keeper tossed its contents out the window.

    "Stupid broad," cried Geary. "Where''d that water come from? Tell me!" He grabbed her neck and held her up against the wall. "Tell me!"

    A shock of anger shot through me. All self-control evaporated, and my limbs sprang into action.

    "Let her go!" I cried, but before I could lunge at Geary, a hairy, sweaty hand grabbed my arm. Stieve grinned at me, his teeth crooked and rotting.

    "The r-river," sputtered the Keeper, grasping at her neck.

    Geary''s fingers released the Keeper, who slid to the floor choking and coughing, her slim fingers massaging her bruised neck.

    "C''mon, gang," said Geary, gesturing his comrades out the room. "Let''s go try that elixir out for ourselves."

    They shuffled out the room, laughing and giving each other high fives, having all but forgotten about the reason they came in the first place.

    Once they left, the Keeper got to her feet, dusted her dress off, and walked to the window facing the river.

    "They never wanted to save their Kingdom," she said softly. "All they wanted was power. To return to their Kingdom and say they saved it, so they may be revered and fawned on."

    "Is that why you refused them?" I asked, walking up next to her.

    She shook her head. "I was telling the truth. Killi cannot be helped."

    Marylea gasped. "They''re drinking the water."

    "As I knew they would," said the Keeper.

    "They''re going to die," said Keenan softly. "That was your plan."

    The Keeper turned to us, and I saw that her eyes were tired, weary. "It shames me to resort to such methods. But you understand."

    The gang cupped their hands together and scooped crystal clear water from the river. They swallowed it greedily, like they hadn''t had water for days.

    A part of me wanted to cry out, but that part was also the one that''d gotten us into this mess in the first place. So I pressed my lips together, crossed my arms, and braced myself for what would happen next.

    "I feel it," Geary laughed. "I feel younger. Boys, we''re going to be rich!"

    The others laughed with him, and they drank more. Water slopped down their beards, trickling onto the grass.

    Then they stopped laughing.

    Geary was the first to fall. He doubled over, clutching his gut, and began writhing in agony. Then Stieve, Oswald, Louey. All four of them shook on the ground, their eyes rolling back in their heads.

    Geary managed to turn his head back to stare at us. "W-what...did...you..." Then his face went slack and he stopped moving.

    In only a few seconds, the others had gone limp, too. I didn''t know if I should celebrate or cry. I looked at my companions: Marylea''s eyes were red, a hand clasped tightly over her mouth. Keenan just looked grim. His eyes met mine, and in them I saw relief.

    "I never meant to kill anyone," the Keeper said softly. Then she wrung her hands and said, "Now let''s go fetch your passed out friend, shall we?"

 Chapter 21

    One glass of spring water was all it took to reverse the Serpeople-effect on Fabe. First, his scales dried up and flaked off, followed by his fins. Then his gills joined with his skin and he was mammal again. His breaths, which had been rapid and heavy, steadied. The transformation took only five minutes. His eyes fluttered open, and I felt a wash of relief to see they were back to his warm hazelnut-brown.

    "W-where am I?" he rasped. "Am I dead?"

    "I hope not," I said, grinning. "That''ll mean we''re dead too."

    He coughed and touched his neck. "I feel weird."

    "You think?" said Marylea, laughing.

    We filled in a very confused Fabe on what''d happened. When he heard about the hoodlums, he darted to his feet, grabbed a control panel from the resulting vertigo, and peered out the window. His jaw fell as he saw the four bodies splayed across the grass.

    "Everything''s true, then," he said, his mouth agape. "I was a Serperson."

    "For a little while," I said. "But now you''re Fabe again."

    "Can''t decide which I liked better," said Keenan with a snide smile.

    "Now that your friend''s cured," said the Keeper, "I expect you''d like to return home."

    That was when reality hit home. My euphoria from getting Fabe back dissipated, and more pressing issues reemerged.

    "Actually, there''s something else," I said, my mouth dry.

    The Keeper''s face fell.

    "Aragonia''s refreshing itself," said Marylea. "And it''s all my fault. I arrived without Initiation, and now -"

    "Without Initiation?" the Keeper asked, alarmed. "That''s unheard of. Why didn''t your parents initiate you? The consequences are dire." She backed into a control panel as if she''d seen a ghost. "That explains everything."

    "What?" I asked. "Explains what?"

    The Keeper didn''t answer my question. Instead, she shook her head and crossed her arms. "This is bad. No, this is not good at all..."

    "We know," said Keenan. "That''s why we''re here."

    "Please tell us there''s a way," I pleaded. "Please. People have gone. We need a way to get them back."

    The Keeper sighed. "My dears, there''s nothing I can do. As I was telling those men, I only govern Shapers -"

    "Can we bring my mother in here so she can initiate me?" asked Marylea. "Would that work?"

    "Sorry, dear, but your mother has been barred from the Realm, as she requested. It was the only way she would stop entering. Cassandra can no longer return, not even as a rider. Besides, it is too late for an Initiation."

    "No!" I cried. "There must be a way. Tell me there''s a way."

    The Keeper looked at me with widened eyes. "I must ask you to calm down. Look." She pointed out at the river that had killed the hoodlums. "Look at the water. Look really closely. What do you see?"The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    I shot her a pleading look and walked over to the window. "I just see flowing water."

    "Watch closely," the Keeper said softly, her foreign lilt caressing my ears. "It''s very faint."

    I stared at the current until my eyes went dry. I was about to give up when I saw the faintest of shadows - a human body, drifting face-down along the current.

    A gasp escaped my mouth. "Someone''s in there," I said.

    "A soul," said the Keeper. "One of the victims of the refresh. They''re in limbo, drifting in the Core, unable to find a home. They''re safe here, at least. They''ll always be here."

    Something clicked inside me. "Does that mean Tem is here?" I asked. "How do we get them out?"

    The Keeper touched my arm. "You can never get them out. They will be there, permanently. The refresh must go on."

    "Load of trout crap!" I cried, flinging her hand off me. Aragonia - refreshed? Tem - gone? It didn''t connect with me. It was impossible.

    "I''m going to find Tem." Without another word, I dashed out of the room.

    Keenan''s cry was faint behind me. "Wait - Ash! He''s a soul! You can''t -"

    I ran faster so I didn''t have to hear the rest of his sentence. My blood pumped in my ears. Now that I knew what to look for, I saw a few more souls drifting in the river. If they were there permanently, Tem should be in there, too.

    I remembered his sweet, boyish face. The crooked grin he hated so much. His deft fingers and strong arms, flexing as he parried my attacks.

    It was only after I''d run into the thick forest before I realized the other implications behind the Keeper''s words. Aragonia - refreshed. That would mean Keenan, Fabe, my parents, myself - we would cease to exist, too.

    There had to be a way.

    I ran along the river, scouring the depths. There were a number of souls floating face-up. I didn''t recognize any of them, though I recognized their attire. Then I saw Velamiere in his chef uniform, his eyes closed.

    A shock went through my body, fueling new adrenaline. Seeing someone I knew hit closer to home. It also meant more people had disappeared since we left. Time was running out.

    I found Tem five souls down. Still dressed in his white-gold Caval, he drifted weightlessly through the currents, his eyes closed, his face pale. He looked angelic. It fazed me to see him so colorless. He floated close to the bottom, far from reach.

    "I''ll get you, Tem," I whispered. "I''ll bring you back."

    I followed the current, waiting for a good level ground where I could press myself flat to the ground and quickly scoop Tem out of the water. The riverbank sloped up, down, and finally became level. Seeing my chance, I fell to my knees and thrust both arms in the water.

    The river water felt crisp and cool, like plunging your hand into a tub of mouthwash. It was hard to imagine this was the same liquid that had killed Geary and the others. This water is poison. I pushed the thought from my head. My hands touched Tem''s shoulders, but my fingers simply went through him. It was like he was intangible, a ghost with no physical body.

    "No!" I cried, and grappled in the water for him. It was futile; he slipped through my fingers and flowed on with the current.

    Then my skin started to burn. I pulled my arms from the water and stared at them. Fine wrinkles had formed on my hands and wrists, and more were forming. My nails were dry, curled and flaking off.

    It took a moment before I registered the pain ¨C hot, searing pain that shot up my arms and down my spine, as if searing coals were being pressed against my skin. I was too shocked to scream; instead I just stared at my aging hands.

    "Ash!" Keenan''s cry came from the right, behind a thicket. "Ash, where are you?"

    "I''m here," I rasped weakly. Pain shot through my spine. I cried out like an animal caught in a trap.

    Keenan came bursting through the thicket holding a glass of water. His eyes widened at the sight of my arms. He shoved the glass at my face. "Drink this. Hurry!"

    I looked at him helplessly. "My arms. I can''t move them."

    "Here." He knelt next to me and put the rim of the glass to my lips. "Drink."

    My eyes watered from the pain. I closed them and swallowed. The liquid was sweet to the taste and slightly tangy. I swallowed gulp after gulp.

    The liquid sent a tingly sensation through my body. It raced down my spine and forked off my shoulders to run down my arms. When I''d drank all the liquid in the glass, I looked at my arms to see that they were back to normal. The mind-numbing pain was but a memory.

    "What just happened?" I asked, still feeling faint.

    "The water will kill us," Keenan said. "The Keeper said we mustn''t touch it, or we''ll meet the same fate as the hoodlums."

    "Tem was in there," I said. "He slipped through my fingers, just like that."

    Keenan placed a hand on my shoulder. "I''m sorry, Ash."

    I steeled myself. "Don''t be sorry. I''ll get him back." I got to my feet.

    "Where''re you going?"

    I stomped through the thicket, brushing aside giant red and orange flowers. "I''m going to make things right."

 Chapter 22

    "Tell me how to reverse it," I said as I stormed into the room and saw the Keeper sitting at a control panel. Marylea and Fabe sat next to her, their faces dim as the middle of winter.

    "Ash," said Marylea, tears brimming in her eyes. "The population in Aragonia - it''s - it''s -" She broke into sobs and buried her face in her hands.

    "It''s down to five hundred," said Fabe, his face grave.

    That meant half of the citizens had vanished. A bolt of fear ran through me. Was my father still intact? Makerholf, Springy, Trevain?

    "You''re safe here," said the Keeper. "The Keeper Core is immune to any Realm-wide effects, and besides, you are outside Aragonia''s borders. You can stay until the refresh is over."

    That thought stung. How could we stay here while our Kingdom perished?

    "How do we reverse this?" I asked. "There must be a way."

    I caught a glint in her eyes which answered my questions. There was a way, but she wasn''t telling us what.

    "My dear, it''s a lost cause you''re fighting for," she said. "Embrace the future. Embrace -"

    "Bull crap," I said, and pulled the dagger I''d commandeered from Geary''s body by the river. As I pushed the dagger against her throat, pushed her up against the wall, I felt like I''d escaped my body and was looking from above at someone I didn''t recognize. She had my face, my body, my clothes, and yet, she was doing something I would''ve never imagined of doing.

    Then she started saying things that would never come from my lips.

    "I will kill you," she said in my voice. "I will kill you if you don''t tell me how to reverse this process."

    "Ash, are you mad?" exclaimed Fabe. "Snap out of it. It''s over!"

    Keenan, who''d just entered the room, took in the scene with wide eyes. "Ash? What''re you doing?"

    Marylea stared at me with swollen eyes, still hiccupping slightly from her sob fest.

    "I saw it in your eyes, Keeper," the girl said in my voice. "There''s a way, but you won''t tell us. Why?"

    The Keeper didn''t flinch. Her steely black eyes met mine. She was calm as a starlit night. "I''m doing this for your own good," she wheezed. She said it so softly the others couldn''t hear. But I''d heard it loud and clear.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    I saw a ray of hope.

    "I knew it," I said. "What is it? What must we do?"

    "I can''t tell you," she said. "Go ahead. Kill me. If I die I will only be reborn."

    "Don''t do it, Ash," said Keenan. "Put the dagger down. There is nothing else ¨C"

    "She lied!" I cried over my shoulder. Then I turned back to the Keeper. "What must we do?"

    "You will die," said the Keeper. "And if I must die to save your lives -"

    "We will die?" I asked. "What about the others who''ve disappeared? What about Velamiere? What about Tem? Tell me how to reverse it. I''ll do it alone. One life for the others. Doesn''t make more sense than this, does it?"

    "Stop it, Ash," rasped Marylea. "It''s my fault. If I''d never arrived at the Kingdom, there wouldn''t be a refresh, and we wouldn''t be here. If you must take it out on someone, take it out on me."

    I was floating near the ceiling again, observing the girl I didn''t know. This strange girl ignored her friends and stared the Keeper in the eye. "I will kill you again and again," she said. "Until you tell me how to reverse this. I know there''s a way. I saw it in your eyes. I''ll do it. Unless you tell me."

    The Keeper didn''t look afraid; instead, she looked sympathetic. "I''m sorry this is happening to your Kingdom," she said. "I cannot imagine."

    "I see you''ve made your choice," the girl in my body said. The arm holding the dagger flexed, and the Keeper closed her eyes.

    The dagger fell to the ground in a clatter.

    Then I was back in my body again, curled up in a ball on the ground, sobbing with every vestige of my soul and body.

    "I - I can''t do it," I said amidst hiccups.

    I''m sorry, Aragonia. I''m sorry, Tem.

    The thought of Tem, gone, banished to be a floating soul in a river, ached so badly I bawled even harder.

    I am weak. A whole Kingdom gone, and all I can do is cry.

    Slender fingers touched my shoulder. I ignored them, bent on wallowing in self-pity.

    The Keeper''s voice echoed in my head. "There is a way."

    It took a few seconds for her words to register. I looked up at her black, watery eyes.

    "You need to block that waterfall," the Keeper continued, pointing out the window at the gushing falls. "After that, I can work my magic to stop the refresh and reverse everything."

    "That''s all?" asked Fabe. "Let''s do it, then! Why didn''t you tell us earlier?"

    "It''s a dangerous undertaking," said the Keeper gravely. "I didn''t want you risking your lives."

    "I''ll do it," said Fabe.

    "As will I," said Keenan.

    Marylea straightened. "And me."

    "You must love your Kingdom." The Keeper met each of our gazes. "I need to prepare. Go outside and think of ideas to block the water flow." Then she whispered so only I could hear, "Stay."

    All three looked like new life had been injected into them. "We''re on it," said Marylea, and they began filing out of the room, a new spring in their step. Marylea looked over her shoulder at me, expectant. "Coming, Ash?"

    "I''ll be there," I said. "I just need another glass of that spring water."

    Marylea nodded and filed out after the boys.

    When the door shut after them, I turned to the Keeper. "What is it?"

    Her black, almond eyes drooped sadly. She rested her hand gently on my wrist, as if bracing me for the news she was about to deliver. She spoke slowly, deliberately.

    "There''s something else."

 Chapter 23

    "We can toss rocks and branches in there to build a dam," said Marylea, as we huddled in the forest by the waterfall mouth. The land surrounding the top of the waterfall was lousy with debris ¨C fallen logs, small and large rocks, gravel. The clear water rushed over the cliff in a heavy torrent, but the riverbed seemed shallow enough.

    Fabe hoisted a rock the size of his torso and dropped it near the mouth of the waterfall. All it did was follow the flow of the water and tumble into the falls.

    "Okay," said Marylea, putting both hands on her hips. "That wasn''t my best idea."

    "The current''s too strong," I said. "We need something bigger."

    "A log," Keenan said.

    "A log will only float," said Fabe.

    "What I meant was we could stick a log into the mouth, drive it into the ground, one of each side. Form a cross. Then we toss boulders in, and the logs will hold the boulders still."

    "Great idea," I said. "We''ll try that."

    We found two good, sturdy logs laying on the ground after some hunting. Then we gathered sizable boulders to toss into the water and piled them on one side of the mouth of the waterfall.

    Now someone needed to get across.

    "Ash?" Keenan sounded concerned. "What''re you doing?"

    I stood at one side of the river swinging my arms.

    "Ash - I''ll do it. Stop - Ash!"

    In a flying leap, I sailed across the river and tumbled on the grass on the other side. I stood and dusted my Caval of grass. "I''m fine!" I said. "Stay there."

    Marylea and Fabe both gave a woot. "Great jump, Ash!"

    Keenan sighed. "Ash, you could''ve fallen in. I could''ve done that."

    I ignored Keenan; I guessed the royal tutor would always have an overprotective side. I picked up the log and stuck it into the mouth of the waterfall at an angle. The mouth of the waterfall was quite deep, and only half the log was left sticking out when the base hit rock bottom.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    "I need you to place the other log," I said. "Now c''mon."

    Shaking his head, Keenan picked up the second log and drove it deep into the riverbed, his log crossing mine on the outside. He rested it on his shoulder.

    "Doing all right?" he asked me.

    I nodded. The log, which had been swaying in the current, was now easier to hold up with his log supporting mine.

    "Now the rocks," I said.

    Marylea moved the boulders to Fabe, who rolled them into the waterfall mouth. "Brace yourselves," I said. The first rock rolled slightly, pushed by the current, and rested against Keenan''s log.

    "It worked!" Marylea cried, clapping her hands together.

    Together, Marylea and Fabe rolled more boulders in. The boulders stacked up against each other, pushing against the logs. I braced myself by digging my sandals into the grass. Keenan looked at me from the other side and gave me a nod. I saw that his knuckles were white from gripping the log so tightly. Beads of sweat hung from his forehead.

    "It''s almost sealed," said Fabe. "Just a few more."

    He was right. The waterfall flow had lessened considerably. It was now reduced to a small stream of water.

    Fabe rolled three more rocks into the waterfall mouth. The last rock wobbled on its side, as if it couldn''t decide where to go. Then, urged by the running water, it leaned against the gap in the rock wall.

    The waterfall slowed to a trickle.

    "Now the leaves and branches," I said.

    They tossed in underbrush to clog whatever holes were left. The trickle became smaller and smaller, until finally it stopped.

    "We did it!" cried Marylea. "The waterfall''s stopped!"

    "Excellent," I said, pulling a grin on my face. "I knew we could do it."

    "Yeah," said Marylea. "Guess the Keeper can now do her magic, eh?"

    "Marylea," I called. "How about you come over here and hold the log while I run down to inform the Keeper?"

    "It''s okay," she replied. "I''ll go." And she began to run down the hill from where we came. A shock of panic ran through me, and I cried, "No! Marylea, I want to go."

    She stopped in her tracks and cocked her head at me. "Really?"

    "Yes. I''d like to deliver the good news. If you wouldn''t mind."

    Marylea shrugged. "Okay. My turn to jump." She did a swinging start and flew gracefully over the river like a gazelle. I grinned and transferred the log onto her. "Let us know when it''s done?" said Marylea.

    I nodded. "For sure. Fabe - stay here and clog the waterfall whenever needed, all right?"

    Fabe nodded and gestured to the pile of shrubbery we''d gathered that lay by his side. "I will."

    I smiled. "Good." Then, without glancing at the others, I ran down the hill to meet my fate.

    The Keeper was waiting for me with an expression that suggested she''d seen death many times over.

    "You''re sure you want to do this?" she asked, a bottle in her hand.

    "I''m sure," I said. "I hope that''s not poison in there. I did threaten to kill you, after all."

    The Keeper gave me a small smile. That smile disappeared in a second.

    "Remember, this will only work the first few times," she said. "Then you''ll develop an immunity to it, and it can no longer save you."

    I took the bottle from her with shaking fingers. "Don''t worry," I said, trying to inject some bravery into my voice. "It''s not like I''m going to fall into the river or something."

    The Keeper shot me a grave look. "I hope not."

 Chapter 24

    Armed with a net the Keeper had given me, I trekked down to the river.

    "With the waterfall flow stopped," the Keeper had said, "the river''s current is slowed . The souls will settle, and you will be able to touch them. But be careful - when the souls settle and seep into the ground, they will no longer be retrievable. But you needn''t worry about that for now - there''s time yet."

    I saw the first soul I was going to save - a young girl with curly black hair, tan skin, her rosy lips just slightly parted. She was dressed in a brown and white tunic, which suggested she could be a farmer''s daughter, or a baker''s apprentice. Either way, she would be home soon.

    I scooped her from the water and placed her gently on the grass. Then I stood, waiting, for what the Keeper said would happen.

    Sure enough, her body solidified so it was no longer a translucent outline. Then it started flaking away in gold dust, the same way they''d left Aragonia.

    The little girl was home.

    I wiped my face with my Caval sleeve, now muddied and torn.

    One down, hundreds to go.

    I tackled the easy souls first: the ones drifting near the surface. The new ones who''d yet to settle in the river water and sink to the bottom.

    The older ones were the ones the Keeper had been worried about.

    "My net isn''t long enough to haul them," she''d said. "You''ll have to touch the river water. Every second counts, Ashling. Do not let it touch your skin for more than five seconds each time."

    I was glad the Keeper had the hindsight to tell me this part of the rescue mission in confidence. Either I tackled this alone, or I''d have to knock the others out so they wouldn''t have to do it.

    I was glad I didn''t have to knock anyone out.

    Twenty souls later, about half an hour had passed, and my friends were sure to wonder what was taking me so long. The Keeper was on her way to tell them the job was almost done, and feed them a "refreshing energy drink" that would maintain their strength so they could maintain their posts to stop the waterfall flow.

    One that would take their consciousness long enough for me to finish the job.

    About fifty souls later, I heard the Keeper''s soft footsteps plod through the bushes.

    "It''s done," she said softly. "They won''t be up and walking for another five hours."

    "Thank you. That should be all I need," I said, straightening my back and wincing at its soreness. "You know, I never found out your name."

    The Keeper smiled. "Aishe." Wrinkles creased at the sides of her eyes. "Few know my name."

    "I am honored," I said, bowing my head. "Aishe, could I ask for a favor, please?"

    Her eyes saddened, as if she could read my mind. "Of course."

    "If I - if this -" I swallowed as my voice started cracking. "If for some reason I don''t make it, could you tell them not to mourn me, but instead remember me in the happiest way possible?" I blinked. "Would you do that for me?"

    The Keeper smiled. "I will, Ashling." She paused. "Do you know why I told you how to reverse the refreshing, even after you stuck a dagger to my neck?"

    My face grew hot from shame. "No."The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    "It was because I could tell, deep down, that nothing mattered more to you than getting your Kingdom back. That protecting you would only be harming you. Do you understand?"

    I blinked tears away. "I do. Thank you. Sorry I threatened to kill you."

    She laughed. "I understand. You were only driven by the purest form of love for your Kingdom and your loved ones." She touched my shoulder, and it sent a ripple of goosebumps down my arm. "You are a brave girl." Then she walked away.

    I shrugged off the goosebumps and stretched out the soreness in my arms and shoulders.

    There were souls to be saved.

    There were about two hundred "easy" souls. I was careful to keep count so I knew how many more I had left. My arms were numb from fatigue, but something drove them to keep going.

    The souls were getting harder and harder to reach. Several times I had to dip the net three-quarters into the water to reach them. I was careful to wipe the handle of any remnants of river water with a cloth Aishe gave me, yet several times I was stung from touching a droplet or two for longer than I should.

    The river was long and winding. It seemed to circle the entire Keeper''s Core, which consisted of various tropical fauna and flora. The animals living in the Core seemed to be immune to the river water. Several times I caught a bird or a squirrel sipping from the river, then darting off into a tree.

    About three hours had passed. I was running out of time. I thought about running to the Keeper''s control room and asking her to feed the others more water so they would stay passed out longer. But the control room was a distance away, and I had barely enough energy left in me to fish out three hundred more souls.

    Finally, at four hundred and fifty, I began to see the souls of people that''d first disappeared. The royal caterer, a spunky, candy cane-thin woman with a spiky hairdo, was lying on the rocky bottom, her spiked hair getting distorted by water currents.

    A jolt ran through my shaking limbs. Energy surged through me. Energy that had run dry a couple hours ago.

    Tem.

    I had known he would be one of the hard souls. He''d been one of the first to disappear. The last time I saw him, he had been drifting close to the ground.

    I walked along the riverbed, looking for the last fifty souls I had to save. There were few left, and some were difficult to spot. My heart skipped a beat whenever I saw a soul, and it would fall when I saw that it wasn''t Tem. But I got to my knees with my net anyway and fished it out.

    "Ow," I gasped. One of the souls was so far down on the riverbed that the tips of my fingers had to graze the water. I scooped the soul out and dumped it on the ground.

    Steam rose from my fingertips. I fumbled along my waist for the water bottle. Careful not to spill any while fumbling with the cap with my burning fingers, I took a gulp. The liquid stung my throat, it was so cool.

    I felt the liquid land in my belly. Then the pain on my fingers eased. The steam dissipated, and I lay on the grass, panting.

    From the corner of my eye, I saw the newly saved soul flaking into gold dust and rising into the cloudy blue sky.

    Get up, chided the voice in my head. You''ve got more to save.

    I sat up, resting my head on my knees. I checked to see the bottle was still full, tucked it under my Caval, and wiped the net off with a towel.

    That was when I heard footsteps plodding through the bushes. These footsteps weren''t the graceful, soft footsteps of a Keeper. These footsteps sounded urgent, angry.

    I turned just in time to see Keenan''s mop of raven black hair burst through the colorful foliage. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, his cheeks glowing red. His chest heaved as if he''d just run a marathon.

    He eyed the net in my hand, and his eyes neared popped out of his face.

    "How long have you been doing that?" he asked.

    I straightened to meet his angry gaze. "A couple hours."

    He narrowed his eyes. "What were you thinking? Why would you do this yourself?"

    I felt a burst of anger. "I don''t have the time nor energy to be lectured right now, Keenan. You shouldn''t be awake."

    "And thank the Stars I am!" he shouted for the first time in the five years I''d known him. "Or I might wake up and find you dead!"

    "It was the only way," I said stubbornly. "Are the others -?"

    "They''re still out," he said. "I woke up before they did."

    I felt relief. "Good."

    "Now where do you get a net like that?" he demanded.

    "Oh no." I shook my head. "I''m not dragging you down with me."

    He squared his shoulders. "It''s my Kingdom too."

    I stared him in the eye for a few seconds, watching his jaw clench, unclench. His ocean-blue eyes were stormy. As I stared, they seemed to soften until they resembled a calm lake.

    "Please let me help you," he said.

    I shifted my gaze to the grass he stood on. "The Keeper will give you one."

    "All right. Wait here. I''ll be right back." He turned on his heel and called over his shoulder, "Don''t do anything without me!"

    I stood, slightly stunned, until he''d disappeared completely into the foliage. Perhaps it would be good to have help. Perhaps -

    No. No one else must get hurt.

    I picked up my net and trudged on, keeping my eyes trained on the flowing water. Hopefully the Keeper would have the sense to knock him out for me.

 Chapter 25

    My bottle was emptying fast. Five gulps later, I found the spring water no longer worked as quickly as it did the first time. The pain would linger for minutes on end, until it felt like it would never go away. Like the Keeper had said, the antidote''s efficacy was fading.

    The sun was an intense orange orb, resting on the forest canopy. The Keeper''s words were brought to mind.

    "The souls have until sunset, at least," she''d said. "After which they''ll sink into the riverbed, where they can no longer be retrieved."

    My movements were slower, my limbs less agile. I was tired, I was anxious. I was aging.

    I need to find Tem.

    I found him in a grove sprouting with bamboo. He laid face-up, his brown hair and white Caval billowing in the water. Then I realized the reason he seemed to stay put at the same spot was because his left leg was wedged under a boulder.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    I lay on my belly and extended the net into the water. The head of the net merely brushed Tem''s brown locks. I skirted my hands up the net so they grasped the end of the net handle. I swished it through the water like I was rowing a boat. The net enveloped Tem''s upper body. With a tinge of hope, I pulled the net upwards.

    Tem wouldn''t budge. His leg was well and truly stuck under the boulder, if it was possible for a soul to be.

    I looked around for vines to make into a lasso and loop around Tem. But it didn''t work - the lasso kept floating to the surface. Shame on me for even trying.

    I studied Tem''s soul. His hair seemed to brush the riverbed, hazelnut tendrils reaching for the soil.

    The other souls would have to be saved by Keenan, and the others, perhaps. They should be awake by now.

    I''m sorry, Aragonia.

    I shrugged off my Caval, folded it and placed it on the grass. That was when I heard a shout coming from my right.

    "Stop! What''d you think you''re doing?"

    I looked up to see Keenan. He was wild-looking, with black hair sticking out in all directions, like a mad scientist that had an experiment blow up in his face.

    I pointed to the water bottle that lay on the ground on its side. "Drink that and it will neutralize the water''s effects. But be careful, it loses its efficacy after awhile," I said. "Take care of Aragonia for me. Oh, and don''t lie to Marylea again." I gave him a small parting smile.

    Then I dove headfirst into the water.

 Chapter 26

    The water was cool and refreshing at first. I kicked my legs, swung my forearms, willing them to swing faster. My fatigued limbs ached in protest, but they did as they were told. I hardly noticed my bursting lungs, nor the way my head threatened to explode. I was here for one thing and one thing only: to save Tem.

    I set my eyes on Tem, looking so peaceful in the crystal water. He looked as wonderful as I remembered him - ruffled brown hair, an omnipresent smile, eyelashes that every girl would die for.

    I was halfway to him when I felt pins pricking my cheeks. I ignored it, knowing brushing at them would be futile and a waste of time. The pins grew in number; soon, my whole face was on fire.

    The fiery pins travelled down my body. I was three-quarters of the way when my whole body felt engulfed in fire. I gave a cry of pain. It was released in a stream of bubbles that blocked my vision. Tem''s face was blotted out by the squirming bubbles. I waved them away, blinking my burning eyes.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    There he was.

    I reached out, and my fingers touched his hair. I kicked once, twice, and I touched his shoulders.

    I never thought I''d touch him again.

    I crawled down his body until I reached his leg. He wore thick leather boots, his left one well and firmly stuck under a ragged rock. I shifted it, nudged it, and finally it came free.

    Tem was free.

    My entire body was on fire, but the sight of Tem''s leg coming free gave me a last surge of energy. I grabbed his arm, positioned myself upright, and kicked off the riverbed.

    The surface sparkled with a brilliant orange hue. My limbs felt ready to fall off; my eyes felt doused with acid. Tem''s soul, light as a feather, did not slow my progress to the surface.

    Suddenly I felt like the little five year old I was, thrashing in the icy water, arms outreached, except this time Tem was in the water with me. Yet I did not feel the same fear I did twelve years ago, because I knew Tem was going to be safe, and that was all that mattered.

    I didn''t make it to the surface. The last thing I saw was the hazy outline of Keenan''s face above water. His hands reached for me, and I saw the tips of his fingers enter the water.

    Then my vision clouded, my lungs collapsed, and everything went dark.

 Chapter 27

    "Oh my god, she''s awake!" The voice was high, tinny and very excited. "Aishe, the elixir!"

    Cool glass parted my lips and liquid trickled down my throat.

    "Swallow," said a soft, male voice.

    Because my brain couldn''t yet tell from right or wrong, I did as I was told. I felt the liquid run down my gullet and splash into my belly. Something felt odd. Then I remembered the last sensation I''d felt - a prickling, burning sensation, like I was burning at a stake for making love potions.

    Then the last face I saw popped into my head.

    "Tem," I rasped. My voice came out half-baked. I repeated it again, my second attempt just as feeble as the first.

    "He''s all right," said the girly voice. "He''s back in Aragonia now. Or at least Aishe said so."

    "He is," said a firm, woman''s voice. "As are the others you have saved. If you don''t believe me, look at the panels."

    I moaned.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    "More elixir," said the woman. "Drink up." The glass touched my lips again, and I swallowed. As it settled in my belly, the aches in my head went away.

    "It''s a miracle," said the woman, whom I vaguely remembered was named Aishe. "She''s healing."

    I flexed my fingers, brushed it against the soft material I was laying on. It felt comforting.

    "Thank the stars," said another male voice. "You scared us to death. When you''re healthy again, you won''t hear the end of how insane you were to -"

    "Shh," chided the girl I remembered was Marylea. "Not now."

    I opened my eyes. The world was fuzzy. I saw three round heads staring at me. I blinked and the fuzziness cleared slowly, like eyes struggling to focus in blinding light after darkness. Their heads came into focus, and the sight of the three faces made me smile.

    "Is this a hallucination?" I rasped. "Did the Serpeople get me?"

    "She remembers them," said Marylea wondrously. "She must be all right."

    "I am truly amazed," said Aishe. "No one should''ve survived diving into the water like that."

    Fabe shook his head disapprovingly but said nothing. Next to him, Keenan''s eyes appeared red and watery.

    A horrible thought flashed across my head and my hands shot to my face. "Am I sixty years old?" My fingers ran across my cheeks. I didn''t feel any wrinkles.

    "You look like you never jumped into that river," said Aishe. "That''s what amazes me."

    A hand stroked my hair. "Have I told you you''re insane?" asked Keenan.

    "Are - are the others..."

    "We rescued the others," said Fabe. "Aragonia is well."

    My lips curled into a smile. "Good..." I yawned. "I - I feel... so tired..." My eyelids drifted together. I struggled to keep them open.

    "Rest," said Aishe. "You deserve it."

 Chapter 28

    I spent the next day drifting in and out of sleep, each time spotting either Marylea, Fabe or Keenan keeping vigilance by my bedside. They fed me porridge and told me about their plans to recruit the people of the Tavern to repair the Loki so we could fly back to Aragonia. I listened, smiling but not talking, because my throat still burned.

    Finally, my limbs felt strong enough to support my weight. At first, I sat up for a minute at a time. Then, when I could flex my fingers without wincing, I got up from bed. Keenan held my right arm, Fabe my left.

    On the third day, I was as good as new.

    "It''s a miracle," gushed Aishe for the millionth time.

    I insisted on being shown the panel for Aragonia, and my friends gladly led me to it.

    "A thousand and forty-two," said Fabe, beaming. "Aragonia''s back to normal."

    There were no words for the happiness that was bursting to come out. Instead, I started laughing.

    Fabe looked at me quizzically. "What''s so funny?"Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    I just went on laughing until I had to clench at my aching ribs from laughing so hard. Marylea started laughing along with me. Soon, the whole room was full of laughter. At last, everything was going to be okay.

    On the fourth day, we were all packed up and ready to leave.

    "Take this elixir," said Aishe. Her eyes drooped wearily. She still had an air of reverence and strength about her, but it was subdued. She''d seemed more tired since I woke up. "It''ll make you immune to the Serpeople''s tricks. They can''t leave their cave, so if you don''t go near them, you''re safe."

    "Thank you, Aishe, for all your help," I said. "Are you sure you''re all right?"

    Aishe smiled. "Just a little worn out from the reversal, that''s all."

    "We couldn''t be more grateful for your help."

    "So, I''ve always wanted to ask you a question, Keeper," said Fabe. "Has the Core always been this fortified?" He was referring to the stone block wall and the defensive mechanisms on the inside. Barbed wire lined the gap between the stone wall and the ceiling; inside, crossbows were poised at the gap.

    Aishe shook her head. "I simply learned my lesson." Before we could ask what she meant, she added, "Good luck on your journey. I applaud your bravery and your love for your Kingdom. Aragonia is in good hands." She nodded. "Now go on home."

    That was when I remembered the Serking''s message. As I delivered it, Aishe''s face fell.

    "What did it mean?" I asked.

    Aishe shook her head. "Nothing pleasant, but nothing to be alarmed about." Then her face brightened with a smile. "Now run along. I need to rest."

 Chapter 29

    The air at the Aragonia dock was sweet and full of cheer, but nothing was sweeter than climbing up to deck and seeing a brown-haired boy in a white Caval grinning and waving at me.

    "Go on," called Keenan. "I''ll dock."

    I didn''t need to be asked twice. Heart soaring in my chest, I sprinted down the stairs right into Tem''s arms. His smell wrapped around my head, and I inhaled all of it.

    "I saw what you did," Tem whispered into my ears as he nuzzled my face. "I was so worried you would be dead, and I thanked the Stars a million times when I heard you were homebound."

    I drew back slightly in surprise, though I didn''t leave much of a gap between us. I wanted to be close to him as long as possible. "Sorry, I didn''t know you could see."

    Tem smiled. "I saw everything." He tapped my nose. "You crazy girl."

    Shouts and cheers began to seep into my ears, and I scanned my surroundings. "Princess! Princess Ashling!" "Welcome back, Princess Ashling! We brought gifts." People bearing baskets of fruits, boxes of trinkets and jewelry, plates of loaves of bread and homemade cookies, jostled and cried for my attention. The people of Aragonia were psyched to see their saviors. Apparently every one of them remembered my scooping them from the river, and had caught a glance of me before flaking into golden dust. Tem and I were pulled apart by citizens wanting to shake my hand, or even kiss it.

    "Hate to break up the two love birds," said Fabe. "But I insist on joining this hug."

    We laughed and pulled Fabe into our embrace. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right again.

    Aragonia was more alive than ever. An impromptu festival had been thrown at the docks to celebrate our arrival. I glimpsed stalls selling little bobble heads of Marylea, Fabe, Keenan and myself, banners reading "Welcome back, Aragonia''s Heros," and "We Sing for Ashling." Behind all the festivities, I saw the Royal Council standing in the distance, looking resplendent in their Cavals. Makerholf, Springy and Trevain were beaming bright as the sun, Bill was scowling as usual, but as I met his gaze the corner of his lip twitched. Tammy and Barney had their arms around each other, and were jumping to get my attention. And my father, oh my father, bless the Stars, was actually smiling. I could barely recognize him; the corner of his eyes were wrinkled, and his dark eyes sparkled like a rippling ocean. I grinned and waved at them, and the Royal Council burst into smiles and waved back.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    That was when I realized one of them was missing. Where was Prince Ralf with his perfectly coiffed hair that gleamed in the sun? Perhaps he didn''t make it a habit to celebrate others'' achievements. I shrugged it off.

    Nothing could dampen my euphoria. I wanted to climb the tallest mountain in Aragonia and sing from the mountaintops, though my body ached at the thought. I wasn''t quite healed from the river ordeal yet, and I''d spent the past few days helping to rebuild the Loki to the best of my ability, though the others had made it a sport to tell me to go away, sit and rest. It didn''t fare too well with me, so I settled with chores like fetching water.

    "Good to see you again, Templeton," said Marylea, who''d come up from behind me after she was swarmed by adoring fans. She clapped him on the back. "I had to make sure you were solid."

    Tem looked alarmed to see his ex-fianc¨¦. "Oh, hello," he said awkwardly. "I heard you had one heck of an adventure," he said.

    "I had enough for one lifetime," Marylea said, grinning. "Now if you don''t mind, I''d like to put our horribly awkward engagement behind us. After what I''ve been through, I''d like to have as little conflict in my life as possible."

    Tem smiled. "Of course."

    "Good." She nodded. "Now if you''ll excuse me, I''ll be in my wing, knocked out and oblivious to the world." She gave me a parting smile, a wink, and blended into the crowd.

    "Should we be following her? We''re her mentors, after all."

    Tem laughed. "And the Aragonians will attack her with bear hugs if we don''t."

    I watched as the Aragonians swarmed her with pens and paper, hounding her for her autograph.

    I smiled. "They''ll riot if she, Stars forbid, got a paper cut."

    Tem took my hand, and I about jumped from my sandals from the resulting pleasure.

    "Just so you know," he said, his face glowing, "I''m in the midst of plotting a fantastic proposal."

    My heart did a jolly jig, and my fingers tingled with pins-and-needles, but I managed to fix my face with mock surprise. "You mean that last one didn''t count?"

    His eyes widened. "Oh. Um, if you''d like ¨C"

    I laughed. "Tem, I''m just kidding." I squeezed his hand. "Take your time, as long as it arrives. As I''m waiting, we''ll figure out this whole new Shaper business, together."

    Tem drew me to him, his nose grazing mine. His hazel forest-green eyes stared deep into mine, wrapping me in his presence. "You can count on it," he said softly. Then he pressed his lips against mine, and I knew I was home.