The Magic Redeemer Preview
Book 3 in the Magic of Havenwood series
Prologue
For Craven, Torpor was the little death, its end a kind of rebirth.
He could not quite see while in its clutches. Nor could he quite hear, or feel, or smell. There was only a vague sense of things, as when waking slowly from a dream. An eternity could seem like a second while in its numb embrace…and a second could seem like an eternity.
For some, Torpor was death, or rather the last thing Craven’s kind experienced before it. But for him, there would be no death.
For him, death was impossible.
As his awareness rested in the inky black waters of his self-imposed sleep, Craven felt a tugging on his psyche. A soundless voice beckoning him.
A woman’s voice.
Craven obeyed, emerging from Torpor like a man rising from the depths of a lake, breaking through the surface of his subconsciousness. He came alive, first in his head, bright light accosting his eyes, then in a spreading wave down his neck and shoulders, his chest, his belly, and finally his legs.
He found himself reborn in the usual place. Standing on a great gold and crimson pedestal in the Locus Legis, the great chamber that served as his home in the heart of the Palatium, the palace of Queen Eldora. And as usual, he was facing the great shimmering circular portal that led to the throne room of Queen Eldora herself, the first and only ruler of the Pentad.
His eyes were always drawn to the queen, even in Torpor.
For the queen was Craven’s sole master, the great woman for whom he had been created. Carved out of a single block of indestructible Invictium, a metal so rare and powerful only a single statue had ever been sculpted from it. In his left hand, he carried Aganon, a legendary golden shield so powerful that it could – and had – defeated entire armies. His right hand was clad in Dextro, a magic gauntlet of formidable power.
And Craven himself was the right hand of the queen, bringing justice to the world and carrying out the great monarch’s law.
On his body he wore the red and gold plate armor called Invictus, and while it was not made of Invictium, it could withstand nearly any attack. Its inner surface was painted in places, making it impossible to trap Craven within a canvas while wearing it.
He was a juggernaut, Craven. The mighty champion of the Pentad, the Queen’s protector for eternity…and bringer of justice to anyone who dared oppose her.
He felt the call of Queen Eldora again, not so much a word as a silent compulsion. Craven stepped down from his pedestal, his huge feet thumping on the stone floor below. Two pale guards holding white swords stood before the shimmering portal to the throne room, and Craven towered three-and-a-half feet over them, a giant among men. Without a word, they parted for him.
And without a word, Craven thumped past them, striding through the portal to answer the call.
He found himself in a long, cylindrical hallway, one with stairs climbing upward toward a large chamber ahead. The stairs were golden, the walls and ceiling blood-red…and everything but the stairs seemed to pulse faintly, the walls and ceiling rippling with subtle waves that traveled up the tunnel.
Craven began the long journey up those stairs, wondering as he often did if he was still within the palace in the Capitol…or whether he’d been transported to another place in the world. Or even another plane of existence.
There were no windows here. No natural light. Only the magical light from the walls. For Queen Eldora did not suffer the light of the sun.
Onward Craven climbed, until at last he reached the great chamber of the queen. The Heart of the Pentad.
Which, quite literally, was shaped like a human heart.
It was perhaps the largest room in the palace, with a ceiling well over a hundred feet tall. The tip of the heart – the Apex Cor – was opposite Craven, and the location of the gold and ruby-red throne of the queen. And while a human heart had four chambers, this room had only one.
But the queen was not on her throne, as Craven had expected her to be. She was standing beside a small wooden stool at the far right of the chamber, gazing through a golden monocle up at a huge globe levitating above the floor there. A perfect replication of the world.
She was tall and slender, clad in a simple but elegant crimson robe. Two long red ribbons extended from the back of her robe behind her shoulders, spiraling tightly around her arms all the way to her wrists. Her skin was as pale as any he’d seen, her long red hair falling in perfectly straight strands to the backs of her knees. She wore nothing else. No adornments. No crown. No jewels of any kind.
Queen Eldora was complete in and of herself. Perfection could not be enhanced.
He hesitated, then stomped dutifully to her side, stopping there.
She gazed up at the globe, her crimson irises seeming to glow.
“What do you require?” Craven asked. The queen lowered her gaze – and her monocle – turning sidelong to look at him. He could not read her expression, but then again, he’d never been able to.
“The law requires you,” she corrected.
“What does the law require?”
Queen Eldora returned her gaze to the globe, and Craven followed it. They were looking at a land mass south of a great ocean. She handed Craven the monocle, and he lifted it to his right eye. His vision zoomed in rapidly, the land mass expanding as if he were falling toward it at great speed.
And then it slowed, focusing on a mountain with a white castle atop it. At the foot of the mountain was a large lake, beyond which was a grassy plain leading to a mushroom forest that surrounded the base of the mountain and the lake. And beyond that, encircling the entire forest and mountain, was a massive white dragon.
Still the monocle zoomed in, to an area near the base of the mountain. A street spiraling up the mountain came into view, with buildings clustered to one side of it. The monocle focused on one building in particular…or rather a set of tables set outside of it.
Sitting at that table was a man and a woman…but the monocle focused on the man.
Somehow, through the monocle’s magic, the view shifted, now as if facing the man from the side rather than from a bird’s-eye-view. He was in his forties, it appeared. A man with chocolate-colored skin and short, curly dark hair. The man wore gold-rimmed glasses, and was smiling as he talked to the woman seated opposite him. Craven of course could not hear what they were saying, but that was beside the point. He recognized this man.
Thaddeus Birch, author of The Magic of Havenwood.
Craven lowered the monocle, handing it back to Queen Eldora.
“You wish me to apprehend him?” he asked. She said nothing at first, staring up at the globe. Then she sighed.
“Tragedy is prolific lover, isn’t it?” she mused.
Craven said nothing, knowing the question did not require his answer. His answers could never be sufficient. His actions, however, always were.
“Tragedy begets tragedy begets tragedy,” she continued.
Still he waited, and she turned to face him.
“Do you ever feel remorse, Craven?”
“Only in failure,” he answered.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “You are as I had you made. The law feels nothing. It only executes its function.”
“As you say.”
“But what is law without temperance?” she inquired, putting a pale hand on his chest, over where his heart would be. If he had one.
“Temperance invites manipulation,” Craven answered. “Abuse.”
“And mercy, and context,” she countered.
“You order, I obey,” he replied, inclining his head.
“Yes,” she agreed, withdrawing her hand. She turned back to the globe, lifting the monocle to her eye and peering through it. Nearly a minute passed, and Craven did not stir. He would wait for her for hours if she wished it. For an eternity. There was nothing else for him to attend to. No bodily function, no urge other than to serve her. This was how he’d been made. This was his life.
At long last, she lowered the monocle.
“Tragedy is a prolific lover,” she repeated. “Do I follow the letter of the law and allow it to multiply? Or do I practice temperance and neuter it?”
Craven did not answer.
“Who wrote the laws, Craven?”
“You.”
“And therein lies the problem,” she mused. “For in authoring them and demanding that all be subject to them, I’ve become as much a prisoner to them as my subjects have.”
“You are prisoner to no one,” he countered. “You are queen.”
“We are all prisoners to our past,” Queen Eldora countered. “Our pasts author our futures, unless we have the courage to defy them.”
“You do,” Craven replied. She nodded.
“I do,” she agreed. “The question is not could I, but should I.”
“I cannot answer.”
“I know,” she replied with a smile. “I would merely have you know my mind.”
“I cannot.”
“Not entirely,” she agreed. “But Queen Eldora cannot be seen as indecisive by her subjects.”
“Am I not your subject?”
“No,” she replied. “You are my right hand, Craven. And as a part of my body, you are me.”
“As you say.”
She stared at the globe for a long while, then sighed, lowering her gaze to the wooden stool beside her. A small golden ring had been set there, carved to resemble a tiny snake biting its tail. Craven recognized it immediately. For he himself had given it to her after he’d returned from Blackthorne. A gift from Gideon Myles.
Extinctio, the Painter’s legendary weapon.
Queen Eldora picked it up, then slid it onto her right ring finger, staring at it for a long, silent moment.
Then she turned away from him, gliding across the floor to her throne. She sat upon it, resting her pale arms on its oversized armrests, and regarded him with cold eyes.
“Lucia Birch lives,” she announced, her tone suddenly hard. “Gideon fathered a child with her. Thaddeus published a book illegally on the black market. Havenwood gives amnesty to hundreds of artists creating without licenses within the sovereign borders of the Pentad.”
Craven stared back at her impassively, watching as she took a deep breath in.
“You are my right hand, Craven. Execute the law.”
Craven inclined his head.
“It will be as you demand,” he vowed.
“Leave me,” she ordered.
He did so at once, turning about crisply, then stomping back toward the stairs leading down to the portal that would take him back to Locus Legis.
“And Craven?” he heard Queen Eldora add. He stopped, twisting around to look at her.
“Yes my queen.”
“Gideon and Thaddeus and Lucia,” she stated. “I want them alive.”
“As you wish.”
He turned about, continuing to the stairs. He took them three at a time, so tall was he. And he would not rest until he had carried out his task. For he was the law, an unstoppable juggernaut. Once set in motion, he could not be denied. There was no reasoning with him, no pleading. No way to bribe him or corrupt him. He was pure, absolute. Invincible. The right hand of the queen.
As Craven reached the mid-point of the long stairwell, he heard a faint sound echoing through the long tunnel. A sound he had heard countless times before, but never here.
A woman weeping.
Chapter 1
Bella Birch stood in the darkness of the Water Dragon tunnel, squinting at the light beyond the mouth of the cave. Water gushed in a steady stream to Bella’s right, the sound reverberating of the rough stone walls of the tunnel. It was the Everstream, a continuous flow of water created in the heart of the magic Water Dragon tunnel. It somehow flowed up to the mouth of the cave, continuing beyond it to the cliffside beyond. Then it dropped thousands of feet to Lake Fenestra far below, at the base of a great mountain called Dragon’s Peak.
The mountain upon which the great Castle Havenwood stood, a shining beacon of hope for artists all over the world. For while the world was unkind to artists, fearing and controlling their formidable magic, Havenwood welcomed them and set them free.
As it had set Bella free.
Three weeks had passed since the great kingdom had been attacked by the Gemini, an army of glittering soldiers whose bodies had been composed of mirrored facets. Since Miss Savage had been defeated and peace had once again been restored to Havenwood. And two weeks since Mom had been resurrected from the dead – a second time – and Bella’s family had been made whole. During that time, Bella had spent roughly half of her time in Havenwood, and the other half in the Plane of Death, studying Necromancy with her mother in the great Guild of Necromancers. Half of her time in the light, the other half in darkness.
And today, she planned on doing both at the same time.
Bella smiled at the bright sunlight ahead, brushing a few strands of curly dark hair from her face. Then she continued up to the mouth of the cave, stopping where darkness met the light. She looked down at that sharp divide, then knelt, tracing it with her fingertip.
“Where dark meets light,” she murmured. Then she stood, taking a deep breath in. “Okay,” she told herself. “I can do this.”
“Do what?” a voice asked from her right hip. Bella glanced down, seeing a human skull hanging there. Or rather, levitating there. It was Cain the cane, her right-hand man…literally. Able to extend his spine from the base of his skull, he served as a formidable weapon…and a formidably chatty one at that.
“I’m going to cut myself in half,” Bella answered.
“Oh,” Cain replied, clearly taken aback. “I do hate it when you die,” he added with as best a shudder as he could manage. “Makes me feel like I’ve failed you every time.”
“I’m going to try to do it without dying this time.”
“Ah, good,” Cain replied. “But still, do be careful.”
“Don’t worry,” she reassured him, patting the top of his head affectionately. “I’ll be fine.”
“Yes, well, I can protect you from others,” Cain reminded her. “But not from yourself.”
And then she focused inward.
Bella felt two forces within her, split by a magical dagger she’d painted about a month ago. The twin sides of her nature, the dark and the light. Luna was the darkness, the side of her that loved death and decay. And Lux was the light, thriving in sun and cheer.
Luna she’d inherited from her mother Lucia, a great Necromancer. And Lux from her father Gideon Myles, perhaps the greatest Painter alive. Her parents had come together to make Bella.
And now Bella was going to try to split herself apart.
Normally she had to die to separate Lux and Luna, a rather unpleasant way to do so. But Bella had become convinced she could do it without dying.
“You can do it,” Cain declared confidently.
“Shh,” Bella replied, and Cain’s bony jaw snapped shut with a click.
She focused, trying to find Lux and Luna within her. The two parts of herself, darkness and light. She could almost feel them, and imagined herself peeling them apart from each other, like pieces of Velcro.
Nothing happened.
Bella grit her teeth, trying harder. She imagined ripping herself quite literally in two, visualizing Lux and Luna pulling apart from each other within her. Looking down at her hand, she could swear that she saw it outlined in bright light on one side, and inky black shadow on the other.
Come on…
Bella concentrated on making the opposing outlines wider, trying as hard as she could…but they stayed as they were.
With a grunt, she gave up, and the light and shadow snapped back into her hand, vanishing from sight.
“Well shoot,” she swore.
That’s not a swear, a voice in her head said.
She felt a presence above and behind her, and saw a dragon flying swooping through the air toward the mouth of the Water Dragon cave. A skeletal dragon with eye sockets that glowed deep red, wearing black metal armor. It landed before Bella, magnificent in the morning sun, folding its wings on its back.
“Hey Nemesis,” Bella greeted.
Hey yourself.
“Still no flesh?” she inquired. After all, Nemesis could breathe out a red light that sucked flesh out of living things, making herself into a fully fleshed-out dragon with black scales. But the flesh slowly left the Familiar, going back to those she’d stolen it from.
This way people don’t expect me to talk to them, Nemesis replied. For without vocal cords, the only person the irritable dragon could speak to was Bella, through their psychic bond.
“Suit yourself,” Bella muttered.
She focused inward again, trying to split herself a second time. Again she saw the shadow and the light outlining her hand…and again she failed. She glanced at Nemesis, who laid down on the rocky ground, curling her tail around her body and watching Bella.
“What’re you doing?” Bella asked.
Watching you fail, Nemesis answered. Very entertaining.
Bella rolled her eyes, pointing ignoring the dragon. Again and again she tried to separate Luna from Lux, and each time she got a little closer, the dark and light outlines growing a hair’s width wider. But in the end, they remained stubbornly together.
What’s the point?
“I want to see if I can do it,” Bella answered.
Just kill yourself, Nemesis counseled. I’ll do it if you want.
“Ha ha,” Bella grumbled. Then she sighed. She really was getting nowhere, and she did want to experiment with Lux and Luna. She’d been struck with an idea last night while tossing and turning in her comfy bed, waiting for sleep to come. And now she was impatient to try it.
“Fine,” she decided. “Kill me then.”
Thought you’d never ask, Nemesis replied, standing up on all fours. She felt the dragon smirking, though of course without flesh, it was only a thought. The dragon grabbed Bella’s throat with one clawed hand.
“Oh dear,” Cain stated, rotating to bury his glowing green eye-sockets in Bella’s hip. “I can’t watch.”
“Make it qui-” Bella began…and then Nemesis squeezed.
Hard.
Pressure built up in Bella’s head, her eyes feeling like they were bulging out of their sockets. She resisted the urge to resist Nemesis, forcing herself to keep her arms at her sides. It wasn’t the first time she’d been strangled to death, after all.
“You vile serpent!” Cain moaned.
Bella’s vision darkened, the distraught cane’s voice seeming far away. She felt oblivion reach for her, and only then did her instincts take over. Bella reached up for Nemesis’s hand, trying to pry the bony fingers from her throat. She gasped for air, struggling in vain to breathe. To live. But Nemesis’s grip was impossible to break. The world faded away, and the urge to fight death faded with it. Bella relaxed into her fate, giving herself to the inevitable.
Thus came death, an eternity in a moment…and a moment lasting an eternity. A state of utter surrender.
And in that surrender one became two.
They opened their eyes, these twins of Bella’s soul, the dark and the light. Luna and Lux staring at each other across an impenetrable wall: where the darkness met the light. Luna stood in the shadows just before the light streaming into the Water Dragon cave, staring at Lux, who stood in the light.
She was a being of light, Lux. Standing in the sun as if a mirror-image of Luna. She looked like Bella, but as if light had been concentrated in Bella’s form. And at the same time, Lux stared at Luna, seeing a being of concentrated shadow, an outline of Bella darker than night itself. Each seemed a mere silhouette, features barely visible. For they were pure light and dark, and as such, there could be no shades of gray without combining once again.
They were Bella, Lux and Luna. But each missing each other, combining to reform her if they drew close enough to each other. The first time they’d been split, during the battle with Simon and Miss Savage, they’d shared a single consciousness, always aware of each other, as if sharing minds. And the closer they drew to each other, the more powerful the urge to recombine. Despite weeks of practice, every time they split, they combined again rapidly, unable to resist the pull of each other.
But this time they had a plan.
Luna tore herself from the edge of the light, throwing herself into the blackness of the rock wall to her left. But instead of striking it, she tried to meld with it, to become one with it. She was shadow, after all; the darkness should be her ally. And when she’d been a part of Bella, the girl had theorized that anything that threw a shadow could throw Luna.
But instead of melding with the shadow on the wall and being able to move within it, Luna became the shadow.
Suddenly she was huge, a massive creature of darkness that spiraled down into the earth, throughout the whole length of the Water Dragon tunnel and beyond. She could see anything within it, hear anything. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt that, with a thought, she could tear herself free from the rest of the darkness, appearing wherever she liked within it.
Luna did just that, and found herself rising from the floor of a narrow tunnel…the one at the very end of the Water Dragon tunnel, leading to the cavern containing her mother’s mansion. A garden of glowing white and blue mushrooms near either side-wall of the cavern illuminated the way ahead in a gentle glow.
“Well I’ll be,” she murmured, breaking out into a grin. “It worked, sister.”
This was the first time Luna had ever been so far from Lux. The urge to combine with her sister was weaker now than it’d been moments ago, a desire that still burned within her, but could be resisted…for the moment. She could still feel Lux far above, but at this distance something very curious happened; their shared consciousness seemed to split, their minds no longer one, but two.
And without the light, Luna was free to be herself.
Luna stood there, safe within the utter darkness of the narrow tunnel, staring at the mansion far ahead within the cavern beyond. A giddiness came over her, and she laughed, the sound echoing off the rock walls. It startled her, this sound…deeper than Bella’s, but still feminine.
“Time to see what the darkness can do,” she purred.
Luna stood, striding into the large chamber.
But as soon as she reached the soft glow of the bioluminescent mushrooms, it was like hitting a plush wall. She seemed to sink into it, her stride slowing, then stopping. Luna pressed against it, trying to push through the faint light, but it pushed back. Not a hard, immovable wall like the light above had been, but still impassable.
Luna felt a flash of irritation, taking a step back and crossing her arms over her chest. She grit her teeth, glaring at the glowing mushrooms that dared bar her way.
“Fine,” she muttered. “Be that way.”
She looked around, spotting a few rocks beside the tunnel wall. She picked the largest one up – about the size of her fist – and walked as far as she could into the cavern. Then she leaned over to place the rock on the cavern floor. It cast a slim shadow…not utterly dark, but dark enough. She slid her hand under it, beyond where she’d been able to go a moment before.
It worked.
Luna broke out into another smile, retrieving her hand and standing up straight again. She melded with the shadows once more, stepping out of the rock wall of the Water Dragon cave an instant later, at the mouth of the cave once more. Lux was still there, waiting for her like the good little girl she was.
“Good news, dearest sister,” Luna said as she was inevitably drawn to her twin, their hands touching the invisible wall where darkness met light. “Death just got a lot more interesting.”
***
Bella gasped, blinking in the sunlight streaming down from the blue sky far above. She realized she was standing where she’d been moments before, when Nemesis had killed her. She looked down at herself, seeing her familiar Painter’s uniform, black leather with canvas on her chest, belly, arms, and legs.
“Whew,” she blurted out, rubbing her neck gingerly. It wasn’t even sore, of course. After she was killed, Lux healed in the light, and Luna in the darkness. When they’d healed enough to live with their wounds, they could combine with each other to form Bella again…and she would have healed as much as they had.
“Is it over?” Cain asked hopefully, floating back to her side.
“Yes,” Bella reassured him, patting the top of his head. “I’m fine.”
“Oh thank goodness,” Cain replied.
How’d it go, Nemesis asked. For while the dragon was her Familiar, Nemesis couldn’t really hear Lux or Luna’s thoughts very well. Bella broke out into a smile.
“It worked,” she answered. “But not like I thought. Luna can combine with shadows…but when she does, she becomes them. Like the whole shadow. And she can come out of any part of that shadow.”
Ooo, Nemesis replied, clearly impressed. That’s…
“Incredible,” Bella agreed. The implications weren’t lost on her, of course. If it were nighttime, Luna might technically be able to go anywhere she wanted in the darkness.
A darkness that covered about half of the world at a time.
Makes Lux look like a wimp, Nemesis noted. Bella grimaced, but she had to agree. As far as she knew – at least so far – Lux had the power to bounce off of reflective things like light itself, and move rapidly afterward as a sort of beam of light until she stopped herself or struck something non-reflective. It was a paltry power compared to her twin’s.
“I want to see if I can go to the Plane of Death as Luna while keeping Lux here,” Bella said. If she could do that, she could train with Mom while spending time with Grandpa and Gideon at the same time. After all, she remembered everything Lux and Luna remembered. Doing two things at once would be very efficient.
“Later, please,” Cain begged. “I can’t bear to see you die twice in one day!”
“Okay,” Bella agreed. Nemesis rolled her eyes psychically.
Spoilsport, she grumbled.
“Let’s go back to the mansion,” Bella prompted.
Nah, I’m out, Nemesis replied. And with that, the skeletal dragon took off, running to the edge of the cliff and jumping off. She soared through the air, eventually vanishing from sight. Bella could still sense her Familiar’s location though. She always could, unless they were in different planes of existence from each other.
And so Bella began the long trek back to her mother’s mansion, deep within the bowels of Dragon’s Peak. It took her considerably longer than it’d taken Luna, of course. Bella could remember everything her two halves did, which was quite odd. For when Luna had been separated from Lux, their consciousness had diverged, and they’d truly become two different minds. But to Bella, her memories of their experience happened at the same time.
It was all a bit confusing.
“I really don’t think that winged serpent has your best interests at heart,” Cain warned, seeming quite vexed by the idea. “I swear it seems to actually enjoy harming you.”
“That’s Nemesis,” Bella replied.
“Well it isn’t right,” Cain insisted. Bella smiled.
“Love you too Cain,” she told the disembodied head, rubbing his bony dome affectionately. This mollified him, and they made the rest of the trip in silence. Eventually they reached their destination: a large mansion in an even larger cavern deep within the earth. Blue and white bioluminescent mushrooms lined the walls on either side, just as Luna had seen it earlier. Bella walked through the front gate of the black wrought iron fence surrounding the property, continuing to the closed portcullis that marked the entrance to the estate. A swirling mist greeted her there, on the other side of the portcullis. It was Mom’s Familiar.
“Hey Animus,” Bella greeted. “Is Mom back yet?”
The portcullis opened, and Animus swirled about excitedly, flowing into the foyer beyond. Which meant that Mom was back…from the Plane of Death. A powerful Necromancer, Mom could travel from the living world to the Plane of Death at will, through the magic coffin on the second floor of the mansion. As could Bella…on a limited basis.
For Mom was training Bella to become a Necromancer like her, a member of the Dark Circle.
Bella followed Animus into the grand foyer, watching as the mist went leftward toward a long hallway beyond. Bella followed, smiling and waving at the half-decayed boar standing guard in the middle of it. His name was Terrible, or more accurately, Terrible Boar. Mom admitted that it’d been Bella herself – at the tender age of five – that had named him. After fighting the Gemini – the mirrored soldiers that had cast Terrible into the Plane of Reflection – Gideon had been forced to retrieve the poor thing.
“Hey Terrible,” Bella greeted, patting the boar as she walked past. The soft, furry, not-decayed part of the boar, anyway. Terrible sniffed the air, then turned to lick her hand. She blew him a kiss, then continued past him, following Animus.
There was a set of narrow stairs leading up at the other end of the hallway…stairs that would lead her to a small room with her mother’s magic coffin. Animus went right up them, not even bothering to wait for Bella to keep up.
She took a deep breath in, following Animus up those stairs into the room beyond.
Bella found herself in a small room, a closed black coffin in the center of it the only furniture within. A painting hung on each wall, and a lighting fixture on the ceiling, casting a pale light on the coffin below. Animus swirled around the base of the coffin, waiting for her.
“Oh, she’s not back then,” Bella realized. She paused, eyeing Animus. “She’s waiting for me?”
Animus swirled eagerly around the coffin.
Bella undid the metal latches on the side of the coffin, then pulled the lid of the coffin open.
And saw a woman lying in it.
“Oh!” Bella blurted out, taking a step back. It was a rather beautiful woman with dark brown skin, her curly dark brown hair not even an inch long. She was dressed from neck to toe in a form-fitting black leather uniform, with silver skulls and spikes adorning it. And at her hips were twin silver daggers, instruments of death.
Animus surged into the coffin, flowing into the woman’s mouth and nostrils, until no more mist could be seen. The woman got out of the coffin, smiling at Bella.
“Hey pumpkin,” she greeted.
“Hey Mom,” Bella replied. Her eyes went to Mom’s daggers…and what appeared to be fresh blood coating the blades. “Uh…what’ve you been up to?”
“Murder of course,” Mom answered with a smirk. “What else?”
Chapter 2
It was a rare treat for Mom to venture out of the Plane of Death, and even rarer for her to leave the dark confines of her mansion to travel to the surface. But Grandpa had insisted on a family luncheon at The Painted Feast, his favorite restaurant. Not just for some family time, but because he’d finally decided to introduce everyone to the woman he’d been spending an inordinate amount of time with over the last few weeks. A Sculptor named Kanja.
“It’s about time you introduced us,” Gideon told Grandpa as they all made the journey down the spiraling cobblestone street leading to Downtown, near the base of the mountain. The sun shone in full force overhead, and its rays felt marvelous on Bella’s skin. She walked beside Mom and Gideon, with Grandpa taking the lead. Myko trotted beside Gideon as usual, the giant silver wolf taller than his master. Nemesis, in contrast, was nowhere to be seen.
“I wanted to be sure it wasn’t merely a dalliance,” Grandpa explained. Mom nudged Bella.
“Dalliance,” Mom repeated, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. Bella made a face.
“Ew Grandpa,” she complained. “I really don’t want to know.”
“No no,” Grandpa replied rather quickly. “I assure you our relationship has been platonic so far.”
“So far,” Mom repeated, nudging Bella again, this time with a wicked grin. She turned forward then. “It’s about time,” she added. “I’ve been telling you to find someone for forever.”
“Ever since you found Gideon,” Grandpa corrected. “Yes. I suppose I was still wrapped up in my guilt about what happened to your mother.”
Mom’s mother – Grandpa’s wife – had been murdered by an assassin from a rival country decades ago, when Mom had been just a girl. In a botched attempt to kill Grandpa…a fact that Grandpa had never been able to forgive himself for.
“It wasn’t your fault Dad,” Lucia told him.
“Yes, well, you didn’t always feel that way,” he reminded her gently. She grimaced.
“I was a dumb kid,” Lucia admitted. “I was angry, and you were the closest target.”
“I know,” Grandpa replied, giving her a reassuring smile. He linked arms with her, and they walked side-by-side down the spiraling street.
“I’m still sorry,” she pressed.
“I don’t want you to be,” he replied. “All I want is for you to be happy. And safe.” He gazed out over the side of the mountain, at the landscape spread out before them. “That’s why I created this place.”
“You made it out of guilt,” Lucia retorted. Grandpa smiled ruefully.
“That too,” he confessed.
They walked in silence for a while, until Grandpa stirred.
“So you’re not upset that I’ve started seeing someone?” he asked her. Lucia gave him a look.
“Hell no,” she answered. “You gave Mom what, almost forty years?” He nodded. “I want you to be happy too,” she continued. “If this chick does that for you, I’m okay with it.”
“Chick?”
“Just don’t expect me to call her ‘Mom’ if you guys get all serious,” Lucia grumbled. “I’m older than she is. Which is creepy, by the way.”
“Creepy?”
“You’re what, thirty times her age?” Lucia asked.
“To be fair, finding someone my own age would be quite difficult,” he pointed out. He was, after all, nearly a thousand years old.
Gideon chuckled at that, and Lucia grinned.
“You used to use that as an excuse to not move on,” she told him.
“Guilty as charged,” he agreed. “I was still mourning.”
“You mean you were afraid,” Mom translated.
“Terrified,” Grandpa confessed. “Still am.”
“I know how you feel,” Gideon admitted. Mom shot him a glance.
“You mean when you went on your dates with that woman?” she inquired. Gideon grimaced.
“Ah, well,” he stammered. “They weren’t precisely dates…” he began. Then he grimaced. “I suppose the second one was.”
Bella smiled. While she’d been undergoing her trial with Mom to see if she had what it took to be a Necromancer, Gideon had been left all alone in his hotel suite in the Twin Spires. Bella didn’t know much in the way of details, but apparently her father had met a nice woman in the city, and had gone on two dates with her. Gideon insisted that nothing had happened between them, which was just as well. For while Gideon had assumed Mom was dead – and that he was single and available – she’d come back to life.
“You still haven’t told me her name,” Mom noted, leaning in so her and Gideon’s shoulders were touching. She gave him a cute smile.
“There’s still blood on your daggers,” he noted.
“Its owner was very naughty.”
“I don’t want her blood on them,” he pressed.
“I wouldn’t kill her,” Mom insisted. “I just want to…see what your taste in women is.”
“Uh huh.”
“Can’t a girl be curious?”
“If she’s not a cold-blooded assassin, yes,” he replied.
“Aww.”
Bella listened to them banter, a smile on her lips. She felt a great sense of peace, knowing their family was whole once again. A few months ago, never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined that she’d be here, walking with her mother and father and Grandpa in a magical land. Yet here they were.
Life, it turned out, had turned out just fine.
They reached Downtown at last, which was bustling with activity. Artists of all kinds – Writers, Painters, Sculptors, Actors, and Musicians – milled about, going in and out of various studios, shops, and restaurants. As usual, The Painted Feast was the busiest of them all. For the chef was quite literally an artist, and had dedicated his life to painting delicious meals. Every order was painted on the spot, then drawn out to be served as fresh as fresh could be.
In fact, the restaurant was so busy that they wouldn’t have gotten a table…if Grandpa hadn’t been among them. For he was perhaps the most beloved Writer alive, and just so happened to be the one who created Havenwood. As such, he enjoyed the perks of his celebrity…while trying to avoid all the requisite suffering.
Grandpa led them to one of the large, circular tables in front of the restaurant, looking over the edge of the mountain to provide a spectacular view of the scenery below. A woman was already seated at the table, and stood when they arrived. She looked to be as old as Mom, perhaps in her early to mid-thirties, and wore a plain but pretty white dress. This contrasted with her skin, which was darker than even Grandpa’s…so black that it was almost blue. She had short black hair, almost as short as Mom’s, but with much tighter curls. And a rather lovely smile.
“Hello everyone,” she greeted as they reached the table. She leaned in, kissing Grandpa on the cheek. This earned a rather sheepish smile, and they both sat down next to each other. Everyone else followed suit, except of course for Myko, who settled for curling on the floor next to Gideon. In optimal scraps-catching position, Bella observed.
“Everyone, this is Kanja,” Grandpa introduced. “She’s a Sculptor, originally from Epirus.”
“But don’t hold it against me,” Kanja added with a smile. Everyone chuckled, except for Bella, who took a moment to get the joke. Then she remembered that the Pentad had just won a war with Epirus just before she’d escaped the Chronicles of Collins Dansworth with Grandpa.
“Really?” Mom inquired, arching an eyebrow. “You’re dating a woman from the country that assassinated Mom?”
“Ah…” Grandpa replied sheepishly, glancing at Kanja.
“Yes he is,” Kanja confirmed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Mom shrugged.
“Just checking.”
“I also worked for the Collector,” Kanja confessed. Both of Mom’s eyebrows went up.
“The man who murdered me,” she pointed out. “And made me miss my daughter’s entire childhood.”
Grandpa grimaced, lowering his gaze to the tabletop.
“Not quite the first impression I was hoping for,” Kanja admitted. Mom smirked.
“Oh no, this is perfect,” she countered. Kanja gave her a questioning look. “We’re a screwed up family,” Mom added. “You’ll fit right in.”
“We’re all criminals,” Bella piped in. “Technically speaking.”
“I’m an assassin,” Mom offered. “Wanted by the Pentad. Probably be executed if they caught me.”
“I’m guilty of helping her escape the Pentad,” Gideon confessed. “And illegally teaching my daughter to paint.”
“I’ve painted without a license,” Bella stated. “They’d cut off my hands or execute me if I was caught.”
Kanja gave a rueful smile.
“Well then,” she declared. “I suppose I do fit in.”
“Right then,” Grandpa interjected, rubbing his hands together. “Who’s hungry?
***
Introductions having been made, everyone ordered their meals, and in a testament to the chef’s incredible speed and skill, no one had to wait long to enjoy them. By the time everyone finished eating – including Myko, who had gotten an entire roasted pig for himself – they leaned back in their chairs, enjoying the pleasure of conversation. And when it came to conversation, Bella could see why Grandpa had taken to Kanja. For she was simply lovely to talk to…and a good listener.
At length, Mom and Dad left to get some ice cream, and Grandpa had decided to go with them. That left Bella alone with Kanja.
“I’ve never really talked with a Sculptor before,” Bella admitted to her. “I wish I knew more about it.”
“What would you like to know?” Kanja inquired.
“Everything,” Bella replied. Kanja laughed.
“That’ll take a while.”
“Okay, well, the Flow loves stories, right? And I get how to tell a story with paint, or music, or even acting. But how do you do it with sculpture?”
“Sculpture is a little different,” Kanja admitted. “The other arts start with nothing and you build a story from scratch. But with sculpture – at least the way I do it – I imagine that I’m uncovering a story.”
Bella frowned.
“How?”
“Well, say I start with a block of stone,” Kanja began. “I’ll look at it, and all of a sudden I’ll imagine that there’s something trapped inside. Maybe a person, or an animal, or something else. I’ll come up with a story of who or what it is, how it got there. And as I’m chipping away, more and more details will emerge. How it looks. The way it’s positioned. What it was caught in the middle of doing. That kind of thing.”
“So that’s how the Flow works for you?” Bella asked.
“That’s right,” Kanja agreed. “In the process of revealing, we have revelation.”
“Huh,” Bella murmured. “That’s really interesting.”
“I think so,” Kanja replied with a smile.
“But when does it come alive?” Bella pressed.
“Usually during the process,” Kanja answered. “Would you like to watch me sculpt sometime? It’ll be easier to show you than to tell you.”
“I’d love that,” Bella admitted.
Grandpa, Gideon, and Lucia returned from inside the restaurant with ice creams in hand, sitting back down at the table. Gideon dropped a scoop’s worth on the floor near Myko, who ate it up in one gulp.
“What’d I miss?” Grandpa inquired, eyeing Bella and Kanja with mock suspicion.
Then the table quivered, silverware and cups rattling on its surface.
“What in the…” Grandpa began.
The ground itself seemed to rumble, the table shaking again. A deep boom echoed through the air, followed by a powerful wind that whipped through Bella’s hair.
Gideon stood bolt-upright from his chair, gazing off the side of the mountain. Bella stood as well, following his gaze. Past the rippling waters of Lake Fenestra and over the giant mushroom forest, to what lay beyond: the massive head of the White Dragon.
Its eyes were open, its head rising from the earth to gaze down at something. What that was, Bella couldn’t see. But the White Dragon only awoke in times of danger…and the last two times it had, Havenwood had been nearly destroyed.
“Thaddeus, take Kanja and initiate the evacuation protocol,” Gideon ordered. “Every artist without a military background goes to the castle vault.”
Grandpa grabbed Kanja’s hand, rushing away without a word.
Nemesis, Bella prompted. Make sure Grandpa’s safe!
On my way, Nemesis replied.
She reached for the right thigh-holster of her Painter’s uniform, pulling out a rolled-up canvas.
“Apertus,” she incanted…and the painting unrolled itself. She shoved her hand into the canvas, feeling a warm pulsing as she did so. Her hand met soft blubber, and she drew it out.
A huge mass of green goo spilled out of the painting, nearly as large as the restaurant itself.
“Trouble’s coming Goo,” she warned. Goo’s surface rippled, and it flowed to form a “U” around her.
“Let’s go,” Gideon prompted. And with that, he mounted Myko, who burst forward as a ray of pure silver light, moon-dashing right off the edge of the mountain. They soared over Lake Fenestra, moon-dashing a few more times before clearing the lake and landing on the shore beyond and Myko galloped across the clearing toward the mushroom forest.
“And now my ice cream is going to melt,” Mom grumbled. “Someone definitely has to die.”
She ran across the street to the edge of the mountain, leaping off as Gideon had…and turning immediately into a cloud of mist, through Animus’s unique power. She zoomed over the Lake after Gideon, and Bella sighed, turning to Goo.
“Let’s do this,” she said.
“To battle!” Cain cried zestily.
Reaching into her chest-painting, Bella retrieved a skull-shaped mask, putting it on. She felt a chill run through her as she transitioned into a spirit form, all sound ceasing. For while in this form, she could not hear…a defense against Miss Savage’s terrible songs. Bella willed herself forward, flying through the air after her mother and father. Below, Goo flowed quickly over the cliff, falling to a plop below and moving across the shore of the Lake.
Grandpa’s safe, Nemesis announced. Coming to you.
Bella caught up with her parents at the edge of the mushroom forest, passing through the huge mushroom stalks with ease. For in her ghostly form, she could pass through anything…except another spirit. As they neared the White Dragon, however, they saw it lowering its enormous head down to rest on the ground once again.
Dust shot upward with the impact, a blast of wind striking Mom and Gideon. In her mist form, Mom was blown backward, but Bella of course felt nothing at all.
She landed on the narrow path through the forest ahead of them, taking her mask off and putting her hand on Cain the cane.
“Unleash me!” he cried.
“Hold on,” Bella told him. For there, walking past the White Dragon’s massive snout, was a lone figure. A man, she realized…and a familiar one at that. He was quite tall and slender, his skin as black as night, and had no hair at all. Not even eyebrows or eyelashes. He wore a Painter’s uniform accented by a red and gold cape, the colors of the Pentad.
And floating at his side was a huge sword over six feet long, with a blade as black as night and a gleaming golden hilt and crossguard.
The man walked right up to Bella, his sword following beside him. She felt a chill in the air suddenly, and knew it was from the sword, not the man.
“We meet again,” the man stated in a deep, powerful voice. He inclined his head at Bella, then shifted his gaze to Gideon and Lucia, who stopped at Bella’s side. Gideon dismounted Myko, pulling his cane from his chest-painting and leaning on it.
“Hello Yero,” Gideon greeted coolly.
“Gideon,” Yero replied.
“It seems you’ve upset the White Dragon,” Gideon noted. “I take it you didn’t come to catch up with an old friend?”
“No,” Yero confirmed.
“Business then,” Gideon concluded. Yero nodded.
“Business.”
“What does the Pentad want?” Gideon inquired.
“Confirmation,” Yero replied, shifting his gaze to Bella, then Petrusa. And then Nemesis, who swooped up to them, landing at Bella’s side. His eyes returned to Gideon. “And now they have it.”
“Confirmation of what?” Gideon pressed.
“Treason,” Yero answered.
Gideon raised an eyebrow.
“Oh really,” he murmured.
“Is this not Lucia Birch?” Yero inquired, gesturing at Mom.
Gideon said nothing.
“I believed in you, Gideon,” Yero stated grimly. “You who vowed to me that you did not aid this criminal in evading the Pentad’s justice. I believed in you when you promised to come home after ensuring the safety of the girl,” he added, gesturing at Bella.
“Yero…” Gideon began.
“I believed in you as a man of honor. Integrity. Honesty.”
“Yero, I can…”
“I was wrong,” Yero concluded sharply, crossing his arms over his chest.
Yero’s sword – Temper, Bella recalled – seemed to pulse, the air growing even cooler around it.
“How?” Gideon asked. “How did you know Lucia was alive?”
“The Pentad appreciated your apprehending the woman who called herself ‘Miss Savage,’” Yero replied. “She, however, was not so appreciative. While we took away the use of her mouth, she was eager to write a great deal about you.”
Gideon grimaced.
“I see.”
“You have evaded the warrant for your arrest for twenty years,” Yero proclaimed. “The evidence against you was circumstantial. Now it is not.”
Gideon lowered his gaze for a moment, his jawline rippling. Then he raised it, staring at Yero with an intensity Bella had never seen before.
“If I were you, I would be extremely careful in how you proceed,” he warned, his voice deadly calm. “I still think of you as a friend, even if you do not. But I will protect my family.”
“Will you?” Yero inquired.
“I will,” Gideon answered. “As will Thaddeus Birch. Do you care to test the most powerful Writer in the world?”
“A Writer is not powerful if he is not published,” Yero retorted.
“Hi,” Lucia interrupted, walking right up to Yero and putting her hands on the hilts of her daggers. Temper flew between them, poised to strike. Lucia ignored it. “Walk away or die.”
The White Dragon’s eyes opened, a blast of air shooting out of its nostrils. A low rumble came from deep within its throat. Yero stood there, staring down at Lucia impassively.
“Your dragon does not approve,” he noted. “I have not attacked you. Attack me and it will deal with you accordingly.”
“He’s right,” Gideon warned. Lucia grimaced, taking a step back…and the White Dragon closed its eyes once again.
“You threaten murder of a ranking military officer of the Pentad,” Yero noted. “Another crime to add to your extensive list.”
“Wouldn’t be the first ‘officer of the Pentad’ I’ve murdered,” Lucia shot back.
“Your confession is appreciated,” Yero replied evenly.
“Lucia…” Gideon began, but Lucia held up one hand.
“We both know they have enough on me to execute me thirty times over,” she interrupted. “Your little threats don’t scare me, errand boy.”
“My threats should not,” Yero agreed. “Queen Eldora’s should.”
Lucia just stared at him, as did Gideon. Yero gave them a tight smile.
“I see I have your attention.”
“Just get it over with,” Gideon snapped.
“Queen Eldora demands your surrender,” Yero proclaimed. “And that of what appears to be your wife. And daughter. And Thaddeus Birch.”
“I’m afraid she’ll have to live with disappointment,” Gideon replied.
“It has come to Queen Eldora’s attention that there have been two attacks on Havenwood of late,” Yero stated. “And that on both occasions, your dragon was barely up to the task of defending it.”
Gideon just stared at him.
“A boy Painter was able to challenge the White Dragon and nearly succeed,” Yero continued. “Imagine what the full might of Craven’s armies might accomplish if so ordered?”
The blood drained from Gideon’s face, and even Mom looked uncharacteristically subdued. A chill ran down Bella’s spine…and this time, it wasn’t from Temper’s aura.
“You’re threatening to attack Havenwood if my family and I don’t volunteer to come to our executions?” Gideon replied.
“I offer a peaceful path,” Yero replied, then gestured at Temper. “And its alternative.”
“You wouldn’t,” Gideon pressed.
“Correct,” Yero agreed. “Queen Eldora would.”
“You’re bluffing,” Lucia stated. Yero turned to her.
“Unlike you, I do not live a life that requires deception.”
They all stood there, no one saying anything.
“I will have your answer,” Yero declared. “If you say nothing, that too is an answer.”
Gideon glanced at Lucia, who shook her head ever-so-slightly. He glanced at Bella, then returned his gaze to Yero.
“Please tell Queen Eldora that I politely decline her request,” he stated.
Yero stood there for a long, silent moment. Then he inclined his head.
“You have made your decision,” he stated. “And you have decided for every citizen of Havenwood. They have all composed art without a license, and will be brought to justice accordingly.”
And with that, Yero turned away from them, and left. Gideon watched him go, then sighed, putting his cane back in his left forearm-painting and sighing heavily.
“We,” he proclaimed grimly, “…are in deep trouble.”
