Curse of Kings (The Trials of Oland Born, Book 1) (20 page)

ALBEN STOOD IN FRONT OF
O
LAND AND
D
ELPHI,
holding up a finger.

“You cannot interrupt me,” he said. “My power of speech is like a bee's sting and, once it's released, I will die. So, with my dying breath, I want you to know that I have betrayed you, Oland. I am the animal who is closest to the perfection of the Thousandth Soul. The Evolents didn't think that they would fail with me, so they called me Malben – the perfect combination of their names and their work.

“I was healthy for a time, but within weeks of my birth…” Malben shook his head. “I displayed behaviour that concerned them. They called me ‘wild and two-sided'. The world is a battle of good and evil and is won and lost across different terrains. But, for me, the fight was in my very soul; a fight so intense that it became unbearable. Sometimes good triumphed, sometimes evil. But the unpredictability was devastating for me and everyone around me. The turmoil in my soul could not be sustained by my heart, Oland. The turmoil is breaking my heart.

“Unbeknownst to Malcolm Evolent, on my anguished nights, a young woman was brought to the laboratory by Benjamin Evolent to watch over me. She thought it was nothing more than a hospital for sick animals. She had no fear – no matter how restless or distressed I was, she would take me in her arms, hold me and sing me to sleep. And one day she was gone. Malcolm Evolent told me that he had sent her away, and that I would probably be dead by the time she returned. And so I was in a cage, with no hope of anyone to come and comfort me.

“It was not long afterwards I heard that the Thousandth Soul was created, and I knew that the Evolents would have little use for me. But then the Thousandth Soul disappeared, and they turned their attention back to me. Fearful of what they would do, I decided to help them find the Thousandth Soul. I believed that they would be grateful and, if they studied the Thousandth Soul, that they would be able to fix me, make me one spirit instead of the two that fight inside me. The night of the Villian Games, when you fled from the castle, Oland, I followed you. On our journey, when I disappeared, it was to return to Malcolm Evolent and show him on the map where you were or where I had heard you plan to go…

“When I returned after fleeing Dallen Falls, you had found Delphi. And, on the way to Galenore, when I heard her sing, it was so beautiful, so pure… and it stayed with me… but… then, then I let Malcolm Evolent know you had gone to Galenore. I couldn't help myself! This is the fight I speak of! And then I left Pinfrock's to tell him where you were!” He looked as shocked at his own actions as Oland and Delphi were. “I didn't know what Malcolm would do!” Malben continued. “I knew he would come for you, Oland, but… not that he would kill Pinfrock! He killed him! Just like that! To make you think it was the archivist… he wanted you to mistrust everything and everyone… he followed us to the Oxlaven border. I tried to pull you into the woods that day, Delphi, to spare you being taken away by Malcolm Evolent. I knew he was coming. I tried to, but then Malcolm Evolent appeared. When I saw how you only went with him because he had a knife held to my throat, I could no longer bear who I had become…

“I betrayed you, but it may not be too late to save yourselves from him. You must leave the woods immediately. There are creatures who hibernate here, and you do not want to be here when they awaken. It will be within the hour. Come with me; there is a horse waiting for you.”

Oland and Delphi struggled desperately not to interrupt Malben, not to ask him a hundred questions after what he had just revealed.

“Villius Ren and the Evolents know things about each other that each uses against the other. I know that Villius Ren encouraged them to start the experiments; he was nineteen years old at the time, and believed himself to be sick. He wanted their help. The Evolents began their experiments, but ten years later, King Micah uncovered their work and called on a magistrate to try them in court and send them to prison. Villius Ren saved the Evolents from this fate when he overthrew King Micah. It meant that the Evolents could leave Decresian, and that no one would ever know that it was Villius' idea to start the experiments. But King Micah took something away from Villius Ren before he died. He protected more than just the history of Decresian from him. Whatever it is, they all want it. It's something to do with the experiments. It's something to do with extracting the traits of animals. There are distillations, extractions, essences and infusions. They don't require breeding in a laboratory. These are simple liquids, Oland. They are in vials, they can be injected, they can be drunk, they can be… devastating. They have never been used,” said Malben. “All I know is that they are volatile, that in order to survive, they have to be kept in a controlled environment. And where they are, no one knows. But, in the wrong hands, they could destroy Envar. Whatever your quest is, Oland, wherever it shall lead you, you must find them, wherever they are.”

Malben's breath was failing him. Oland panicked. “But why was Malcolm Evolent looking for me?” he blurted.

Malben howled in sorrow. He spun round and round in frantic circles, his eyes wild with pain. It was too late. He had lost his power of speech. He started to run, gesturing for them to follow him. The three moved silently through the woods, but by the time they reached the gates, Malben was trailing weakly behind them. And, as they turned to thank him, he was lying curled on his side on the grass as if he were sleeping.

LAND AND
D
ELPHI RAN THROUGH THE EASTERN GATES
of The Shadowed Woods and stopped to catch their breath.

“I can't believe that Malben reported back to Malcolm Evolent,” said Oland.

Delphi was crying. “Poor Malben. It wasn't his fault. He was… just… used. And now he's gone.”

Oland's thoughts turned to what Malben had told them. He could barely believe that there were transformative liquids out there that were the result of such grotesque experiments. The weight of being told by Malben that he must find them felt like too great a burden.

He heard the stamping of a foot behind him and turned to see the black horse that had fled from Malcolm Evolent. He was tethered to one of the bars, his head held high. They went over to him.

“What
is
this?” said Delphi. From the base of the horse's neck to the tops of his legs, he was encased in the hardened plates of a pangolin.

Oland ran his hands the length of the horse. “He has his own natural armour. He's incredible.”

“He needs a name,” said Delphi.

Oland smiled. “Standback,” he said. “His name is Standback.”

Delphi stroked his mane.

“Climb up,” said Oland, holding out his hands, boosting Delphi on to the horse's back.

Without thinking, she pulled Oland up in front of her. Neither said a word, but they were both surprised at the strength in her skinny arms.

Oland had never ridden a horse with another rider, and it took him some time to move his elbows away from his side so that Delphi could put her arms around his waist.

Standback began tentatively, but quickly reached his full potential, carrying Oland and Delphi away at an unimaginable speed.

 

*

 

When they reached Pallimer Bay, Oland and Delphi looked across at the black island-mountain that was Curfew Peak. Standback stood quietly by their side. The remaining light overhead would soon leave, and Curfew Peak would be in darkness. A sailing boat was nearing the pier from the east.

“This is one place the Evolents will not expect us to go,” said Oland. “Malben never heard us saying we're looking for the Crest of Sabian; perhaps he doesn't even know that Curfew Peak was once part of Sabian.”

Delphi stepped a little closer to the edge of the pier. Under its calm, glassy surface, the water was beginning to churn. Delphi beckoned Oland over. They watched as pockets of dark sand began to burst under the surface.

“Something is happening under there,” said Delphi. “It's like the marsh.”

They looked again at the distance they had to travel to Curfew Peak.

“We're not going,” said Delphi.

“We have no choice,” said Oland.

The sailing boat pulled up alongside a stone boathouse to their right. As it docked, they could see a sign on the side:
CURFEW PEAK. NO BOARDING WITHOUT MAGISTRATE'S PAPERS.

The captain jumped down on to the pier. He had smooth, rich-brown skin and green, copper-flecked eyes that appeared to change colour in the fading sunlight. He had the build of a man who hauled heavy loads. He frowned when he saw Oland and Delphi, and how they were gazing out towards Curfew Peak.

“Surely you're not volunteering,” he said, smiling.

Behind him, forty young men and women, all dressed in white, disembarked and stood beside the boat in four parallel lines of ten.

He turned to them. “Go, eat, and I will join you shortly.”

Without a word, they walked up the slipway, disappearing out of sight.

The captain turned his attention back to Oland and Delphi.

“What are you doing here?” he said.

“We need your help,” said Oland.

“Who are you?” said the man.

“I'm Oland. And this is Delphi.”

“My name is Bream,” said the man. “Tell me how I can help you.”

“We need to get to Curfew Peak,” said Oland.

Bream's eyes widened. “Why?”

“Because…” said Oland.

Bream waited.

“Because I have to find something there,” said Oland. “That's all I will say.”

Bream shook his head slowly. “I have lived on Pallimer Bay for twelve years, so you better listen carefully.”

His tone was enough to make the hairs on the back of Delphi's neck stand up.

“Curfew Peak is called Curfew Peak because the sun goes down early, earlier than anywhere else,” said Bream. “The island itself has a curfew. At six o'clock it plunges into darkness. But,” he said, “can you see how dark it is now, even in daylight?”

Oland and Delphi nodded.

“The island is covered in a fine black dust,” said Bream. “Finer than sand. And that dust is stirred up by the wind and it will blow into your eyes and will be sucked into your nose and mouth and lungs. It is an unpleasant dust with unpleasant effects. If a person holds anger within, this dust will give it an easy path to the outside world and, once released, it will be directionless.

“The only lights that can burn on Curfew Peak are along its shore,” he continued. “They are lit by the Pyreboys. They descend from the mountain top at dusk and light a row of torches along the shore to keep any boats from crashing there.”

“Who are the Pyreboys?” said Delphi.

“The criminal children,” said Bream. “Any child who commits a crime gets shipped off to Curfew Peak from the age of twelve to twenty-one. If they're under twelve, their name is written in a magistrate's ledger and they are collected on their twelfth birthday and off they go – to stay there until their twenty-first. Oh, they can roam somewhat freely, but, if they are caught by the guards making any attempt to escape, they are jailed in cells on the northwest of the island for the rest of their lives.” He paused. “Not that you could really call them guards; they're paid handsomely to work there, but they have little to do… the wild waters that surround the island might as well be bars. It is said that some Pyreboys have escaped, but I've yet to see proof…

“Anyone unfamiliar with the island and unfortunate enough to end up there is told that, once they leave the shore, they are never to light their way.”

“Why?” said Delphi.

“Drogues are attracted to light,” said Bream. “But they don't approach the shore lights, because they too fear the wild waters.”

“Drogues?” said Delphi. “But drogues are not real.”

“Not real?” said Bream. His gaze drifted out towards the island.