Authors: Bryan Davis
“And the moat creatures?” Uriel asked.
Jason pointed the sword at the path ahead. “Those creatures need to fear us.” He marched straight to Resolute and lifted his leg. “Just guide my foot. Where do I put it?”
A shining outline of two hands grasped his ankle and pulled his foot to an invisible but solid surface. He pushed off with his other foot and stood unsteadily. The boat rocked for a moment before calming. “Your turn,” he said, pivoting toward Uriel.
Uriel gave him an uneasy smile and shrugged. “Another impossible adventure. Why not?”
“Sit back here, Jason,” Resolute said, her pointing finger appearing, “so he will have room.”
Feeling an invisible bench with his hands, Jason sat while Uriel climbed aboard. They sank slightly with Uriel’s weight, shifting and bobbing as he took a spot on the bench to Jason’s left. Both braced themselves with one hand while the boat rocked.
Once it settled, Jason scanned the white surface, keeping his sword at the ready. If any claw showed itself, it would get a free manicure.
R
esolute picked up a transparent paddle and pushed against the shore. Again the craft bobbed, sending them lower into the white air. With the boat displacing its surroundings, its shape and size became apparent — an oval, no longer than a single bed and just as narrow.
Jason and Uriel slid toward the middle until their hips touched. Resolute, again trembling enough to be seen, remained standing at the front of the boat. Turning toward them, she let out a quiet “Shhh” and slid the paddle into the moat. She pulled against the thick matter as if paddling in a stream, but the surface didn’t react, not even the slightest swirl. They skimmed along as if propelled by her effortless strokes.
With his sword angled toward the moat’s surface, Jason peered over the side. No movement. No claws. Where had they gone? Why didn’t they attack? It seemed that whenever he expected something to happen in this frozen wilderness, it didn’t — no white dragon swooped down to snatch them away, no cracks formed in the river ice, the bear disappeared into nothingness, and now the claws didn’t resurface. Not only that, an invisible girl with an odd name paddled them across an impossible body of snow.
Cassabrie spoke again, her voice no more than a whisper.
You appear to be troubled, Jason, but don’t explain. It is better to maintain silence. Just let me tell you that this place has many more surprises in store, some that will lift you up, and some that will threaten to cast you into despair. The puzzles you encounter will challenge your mind, perhaps even your sanity. Prepare yourself. Pray for peace. Unlike Darksphere or even most of Starlight, this is a place that will not allow you to survive for long without an abiding peace in your spirit. Turmoil will be your undoing. Ponder these things now, for you will encounter sights even more unsettling very soon.
Jason looked at Uriel. As he gazed over his side of the boat, his fingers clutched his pant legs, and his brow wrinkled, but he seemed to be handling the anxiety well. Resolute had disappeared, apparently no longer trembling.
Peace.
Jason mouthed the word. The very idea made his skin bristle. How could he have peace while Adrian, Frederick, Elyssa, and Koren were likely all in trouble? Someone had to rescue them. And if he took too long finding this person who was supposed to help him, what would happen to those he loved?
Jason took a deep breath and forced his muscles to loosen. Even if his brain wouldn’t slow down, maybe his body could pretend to relax. With all the potential disasters looming, who could really be at peace?
After a few minutes, they approached a sign mounted on a wooden post that read
Dock Here.
Resolute dug hard with the paddle, and the boat slid up onto real snow, almost hitting the sign. “It’s safe now,” she called. “Just step straight ahead. You can brace yourself on that sign if you need to.”
Jason sheathed the sword and hopped out. He sank to his knees in snow, but the ground seemed firm underneath. The castle, now only fifty or so paces away, towered over him. Its front door, wide open to the frosty air, seemed strangely inviting. With the moat protecting the grounds, maybe they didn’t feel the need for more security. But this was a world of dragons. What if enemies mounted an aerial attack?
After Uriel disembarked, Resolute led the way, walking on bare feet without making an impression on the surface. “Let’s hurry. The king has long awaited your arrival.”
Jason trudged ahead, wading through deep snow that thinned as they approached an outer courtyard. Within, lush grass grew in a semicircular skirt in front of four marble steps leading to the castle’s portico. He stared at the odd spectacle, a summer lawn in the midst of winter’s blight.
Resolute scampered up the stairs, crossed the portico, and glided through the doorway.
“I suppose we should follow,” Uriel said.
Jason touched the hilt of his sword. “We’d better be ready for anything. I don’t want to be a prisoner.”
“Nor do I,” Uriel said as he looked up at the turrets. “The castle fills me again with dread, and now I think I would choose a frosty death over loss of liberty. It’s as though I have competing desires for the easiest form of torture, and they keep trading places.”
“No time to analyze your brain.” Jason strode up the steps. With his boots clicking on the portico’s marble floor and Uriel’s echoing behind him, they ruined any hope of a stealthy approach. No matter. Resolute had probably announced their arrival.
After passing between enormous ivory columns, Jason paused at the center of the doorway and looked inside. Sunlight illuminated the foyer, a massive chamber with a ceiling at least as high as three dragons lined up snout to tail, perhaps one hundred twenty feet. He brushed his shoe across deep scratches that marred the wooden floor. Why would an extravagant castle have such damage in its showcase entryway?
He pointed at one of the deeper marks. “A dragon?”
“The white dragon flies in here,” Uriel said, using his hand to demonstrate the flight path, “and he digs his claws into the wood when he lands.”
“He must come and go often.”
“I wouldn’t know, but I have seen one other dragon. Arxad pays a visit on infrequent occasions.”
Jason pointed at the floor. “Arxad comes here? Why?”
“More mysteries. I am not privy to the conversations he and the white dragon carry on.”
“Maybe not, but I’m getting the impression that you know more about this place than you’ve been letting on.”
“Yes, I realize that, but my reticence is not intentional. Memories are returning as if summoned by the castle itself.”
Resolute’s arm appeared inside, beckoning a few paces away. “Come in where it’s nice and cozy.”
“Cozy?” Jason asked as he strode forward. “With the open door, how could it be …” When he crossed the plane, the air instantly warmed. “Cozy?”
Uriel followed in Jason’s wake. “A remarkable change.”
Jason turned toward the outside and reached his hand through the doorway. Cold air bathed his skin and ran up his sleeve, as if his arm had become a conduit. When he jerked it back, the hole sealed.
He turned toward the foyer again. A giant mural covered the far wall. It looked like a throne of gold with multicolored gems embedded in the back, arms, and legs. Somehow, even without light shining on the painting, the gems glittered.
Above, ivory beams spanned a domed ceiling. Between the beams, leaded glass displayed a network of colorful spheres with a large reddish one at the center. The display tugged at Jason’s memory, resurrecting Adrian’s mural of the planets in their room back home.
Resolute’s voice sparks appeared, drizzling over a hardwood chair. “Rest. Make yourselves at home while I tell the king of your arrival.”
Uriel plopped heavily into the chair. “I assume you will allow an old man the honor.”
Jason scanned the foyer, void of any other seats. “Of course.”
“I might change my mind,” Uriel said as he squirmed. “Whoever designed this chair knew nothing about human posteriors.”
“I’ll be back soon. If my master so instructs, I will return with food and drink.” Resolute hurried into a passage to the left. With high ceilings and wide clearance on both sides, it seemed too big to be a hallway. Illustrations decorated either side, as if the entire room were an art gallery with frameless landscapes and portraits. A wide beam of light illuminated the hurrying girl, as if her presence drew the beam toward her.
Jason searched for the source, but it seemed to come out of nowhere. When Resolute faded in the recesses of the passage, he looked toward the opposite side of the foyer where a similar corridor stretched out into darkness. Its height and width confirmed that the castle had been designed for dragons. They could fly through these passages with ease.
A rumble vibrated through the floor. Uriel clutched the sides of his chair. “I don’t recall seismic disturbances while I was here.”
“I don’t think it’s seismic.” Jason followed the sound. It seemed to be coming from the mural wall. Squinting at the throne’s sparkling gems, he walked toward the painting, his eyes level with the seat of the huge ornate chair. As he drew near, the wall began to slide from right to left, creeping along inch by inch.
Reaching his fingers around the hilt of his sword, he leaned to the right to catch a glimpse of what lay beyond the wall. A shining vapor flowed through the gap. With a bright head about the size of a fist and a long, shimmering tail, it looked like a slow-moving comet. As if swimming against a current, it undulated through the air, and when it reached the doorway and penetrated the barrier, it shot out and disappeared.
As the gap expanded, another vapor appeared, and another, then five in succession, each one following the same path, though not always at the same speed. One brushed Jason’s face as if caressing his cheek. A whispered voice, feminine and frightened, breezed into his ear as it passed by: “It happened so quickly, I didn’t know what to do.”
Then the vapor hurried to the doorway and vanished into the white landscape outside.
Jason stared after it for a moment before shaking himself out of a trance. “Come with me,” he whispered, waving at Uriel. He set his shoulder against the wall and peered around the edge. Uriel stood behind him, making no sound as they both moved with the receding wall.
As Jason’s eyes adjusted to the room on the other side, a floating cloak came into view, as if worn by an invisible person. Dozens of shining vapors continued to flow, each one wiggling toward the door. When the wall reached the halfway point, it stopped with a loud thud. The cloak drifted closer and spoke with a soft voice. “You will need to wear this if you wish to see the star.”
A wisp of a girl appeared, clutching the cloak’s hood in her shining hand. As she walked, her body shimmered in and out of visibility. Taller than Resolute and perhaps a year or two older, she paused and faded away. “I was told to bring one person to the star. I see now that we have two visitors. Which one of you is Jason Masters?”
As Jason stepped into the open, another vapor swept past, and a masculine voice called out, “Don’t go! The danger is too great!” With two tail thrusts, it rejoined the others and continued toward the door.
Jason watched it disappear. What might that vapor be afraid of? Should he heed its warning?
Turning again to the girl, he gave her a quick bow. “I am Jason Masters.”
“Uriel Blackstone,” Uriel said, also bowing. “What is your name?”
Still holding the cloak, she curtsied, becoming visible with the motion. “I am Deference.”
“Deference,” Jason repeated in a whisper. “You mentioned a star. What is it?”
“We call it Exodus.”
Jason waited, but Deference said no more. Instead, she guided the cloak toward him, her arm appearing then fading when he made no move to take the garment.
Uriel drew close to Jason and whispered, “Who needs the sword more desperately — the young man following a ghost or the old man standing alone in the haunted castle?”
“I’ll let you choose.” Jason set his hand on the sword belt. “But I’m not sure how effective it will be if ghosts attack.”
“An excellent point,” Uriel said, waving a hand. “You keep it. I do not wish to frighten any timid spirits.”
Jason clasped Uriel’s arm. “Godspeed.”
“I shall await your return.” Uriel glanced around, his brow bent low. “Unless, of course, that white dragon shows up. I have a bone to pick with him. If I make him too angry, you might find a pile of Blackstone ashes waiting for you.”
“Then discuss the weather until I come back.” Jason spoke again in the cloak’s direction. “When will we meet your king?”
“
Our
king will join you at his pleasure.” Walking slowly, she closed the space between them and extended the cloak again. “Raise the hood and pull it over your eyes.”
Jason took the sleeveless forest green cloak, wrapped it around his shoulders, and fastened its bronze clasp, two halves of a five-pointed star that joined to complete the design. As he drew the hood up, he searched for the elusive girl.
“Does the cloak fit?” she asked. “If not, I might be able to alter it, though it would take a while. I’m not exactly a seamstress, but I will do what I can.”
“It fits. Don’t worry.” He pulled up the hood, tugging on the front edge to draw the material over his eyes. Although the fabric was thick and black, the light in the newly opened chamber allowed him to see through it fairly well. “I met Resolute earlier. How did you come about these … uh … descriptive names?”
“Do you find my name troubling? If so, I can change it. I have been offered other options.”
“Don’t change it,” Uriel said. “Your name fits you better than the cloak fits Jason, and it seems to have been tailored precisely for him.”
Her fingers appeared, wringing nervously. “I could choose Peaceable, but Marcelle thought Deference was the better option.”
Jason’s heart thumped. “Marcelle was here?”
“Indeed. She came by the Northlands portal. Didn’t Cassabrie tell you?”