Orenda felt her stomach lurch as she stepped from the carpet onto the deck of the Burned Roc. How she hated the sea- and how frequently she found herself upon it! She clutched the staff and leaned heavily on it, trying to keep herself upright, and reminded herself that it was better on the ship than it had been on the carpet. She needed to ask Gareth what he did to the ship to lesson the sickness.
Draco flew to her immediately and tried to alight on the staff- but he let out a pained shriek and flew back to Impy, who was hobbling over as well, but age forced him to move at a much slower pace.
“I don’t like that,” Bilge said, pointing to the staff. “Don’t like that at all.”
“What’s that, dear?” Impy asked her.
“She got the staff!” Anilla said helpfully as Gareth slid off his mask and turned his gaze to the stars.
“She’s the Chosen One,” Falsie said as if that settled it, and went jingling away below deck. Orenda remembered that he had jingled since he came out of his mother’s storage room, and wondered what all he had taken and what he planned to do with it.
Then she remembered Felearn, remembered the armor Falsie was going to make for the crew from his mother’s notes, the armor that had absolutely worked for Felearn. She remembered what she had learned of magic in school, and she called out to him.
“Falsie, wait!” She begged, “Please, can you… I’m so ill I was wondering-”
“You want some armor to keep you safe on the sea?” Falsie winked, “That’s where I was going.”
“You’re still ill?” Gareth asked, “Still? But I’ve got a protective spell on the ship. There’s a fire shield flowing between us and the ocean. You shouldn’t still be this ill.”
“We both know that doesn’t push it back completely,” Bella said softly, rubbing Orenda’s back. When she spoke again it was in a whisper to Orenda, “It did, at one time. When there were two people with the same magic signature keeping it up. So much of his magic is… half-cast… waiting for someone else. It…”
“Right,” Orenda said, and pulled back just a little because Impy was forced to get uncomfortably close to her to examine the staff.
“What’s this?” He asked, “I’ve never seen a staff like this. It has crystals of all elements.”
“Set in sterilite,” Orenda said, “It doesn’t… work.”
“Well it’s trying,” Impy said, and it frightened Orenda how close his face was to the staff. It had burned Gareth, and Impy was even more old, more frail. She didn’t want him to set his face on fire. She wasn’t sure he could heal as well as Toli had. He was leaning in particularly close to one of the fire crystals set into the staff, staring at it, watching the magic pulsate within it.
“I’m going to go below deck,” Orenda said, “To my room. I… need to lie down.”
“A good rest wouldn’t kill any of us,” Gareth agreed. “But I’d rather not hear Zena’s mouth so let’s get out of her line of sight first. Let’s make it look as if we’re in a hurry. Rendy, light a lamp in your room. It may help with the illness. Everyone else, let’s unfurl these sails and go anywhere but here. We’ve been in one place for too long.”
Orenda nodded and made her way down the stairs and past the kitchen leaning heavily on the wall, trying her best not to succumb to the nausea. She kept telling herself that it was not as bad as it could be, as it had been on the Recovery. She could, at least, see, and she wasn’t as disoriented as she could be. The sickness and weakness were there, but she had to be thankful for small things, and she knew how much worse it could be. At least now she could walk.
She sat heavily upon the bed and fumbled with the kerosine lamp for some time before she was able to light it. She closed the glass and stared into the flame, then pressed her hands to either side of the hot enclosure and thought of Bubbider. The flame was small, and the scry weak, so that Orenda could, at first, barely make out her face. She glanced to the sacred staff sitting beside her on the bed and sighed at its uselessness, then shoved as hard as she could, outward from her heart, with her magic, pushing past the wall of the water in the air, and the flame danced higher through her sheer will.
Bubbider looked horrible, but Orenda thought that she probably looked worse.
“Living in a mansion surrounded by water does not suit you,” Orenda laughed weakly.
“I imagine you must be back on the sea,” Bubbider smiled back. “Orenda I have something to tell you.”
“I have something to tell you, too,” Orenda frowned. “Let me go first or I’ll never get it out. The staff doesn’t work, Bubby. The crystals are set in sterilite. No magic can flow from them.”
“What?” Bubbider asked, “Sterilite… I’ve read of it, but I’m afraid I don’t know enough about metallurgy to identify it.”
“I know plenty about metal,” Orenda said, “I worked with it for much of my childhood. And this is nothing that I have ever seen.”
“What does sterilite look like?” Bubbider asked.
“I think untreated it is a white,” Orenda said, “Like a white silver, but incredibly reflective. It’s white on Xaxac’s hair, but this staff reflects color strangely…”
“That isn’t very helpful,” Bubbider said, “And I don’t understand why a god would give you a weapon you can’t use.”
“Gareth says that there is no god,” Orenda frowned.
“Gareth?” Bubbider’s face lit up, “Your father? You found him?”
“I… It’s a rather long story but… no, let me try. I can probably tell it pretty fast. Captain Nochdifache is Gareth Firefist. He changed his name to hide from the Emerald Knight. He isn’t my father. He’s my uncle. My father’s name was Garon Firefist, Gareth’s brother. And… apparently my mother was Sokomaur Sambress, a Urillian warrior. Both my parents are dead. I’ll never find them. They were a dishonored warrior and a fallen priest. I was never a princess.”
“Well you can’t have everything,” Bubbider said, “Would you really rather be royalty than one chosen by a god?”
“The staff doesn’t work, Bubby!” Orenda moaned, “Aren’t you listening to me?”
“You are related to Captain Nochdifache, then,” Bubbider said, “We had long suspected. I hope he’s alright. He needs to know that we are all still a little cross at the way he behaved all those years ago. He was the reason security got so tight around here.”
“Everything has changed so quickly,” Orenda looked down at the staff. “Bubby… when Ali heard the djinn speak to him… what did it sound like? Did it ever… tell him to do things?”
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“The djinn won’t speak to us,” Bubbider said, “Ali didn’t want to tell his mother, but he has retreated into the chalice and won’t come out or respond to us. I know he’s angry. He wants to go to the earth continent. He’s bound to grant our wishes but he won’t interact with us in any other way, and I fear that he may try to twist them. I don’t think it’s safe to use the djinn. He’s in love. I understand… I…”
“Is that what you wanted to tell me earlier?” Orenda asked, “That you actually don’t have a djinn to defend you when Xandra’s army gets to you? Because if the djinn doesn’t work and the staff doesn’t work, we’re back at square one!” Orenda did not like to feel the kind of fear that came over her. She had allowed herself to get swept up by the crowd, to feel things that she normally would not allow herself to entertain, and everything mattered now, mattered in a real way- her life mattered. Toli was right, they were no longer playing pretend, now they were in the real world, and the things that happened to them mattered. She had to stop breathing- she was taking in too much air, was drowning in it, and she was already ill, and if she didn’t stop, she was going to pass out. So she concentrated very hard on the muscles in her chest, surrounding her lungs, and she compressed them, held her breath, and counted slowly.
“Ok,” She said when she had her mind back under her own control, instead of spiraling out with thoughts and hypotheticals in every direction, “We have to be solution oriented. Apparently the staff is missing a part. It says that if I can get the other artifact, it will become the weapon from the prophecy. I’m going to Xaxac right now- you can tell the djinn that I am on my way. I will warn him, and I will also get him to make me a suit of sterilite- that’s this whole other thing, but it exists, it’s why the rabbit is white, the djinn knows that as well- then I will find the other artifact, and I will challenge Xandra for the throne. I have a claim by divine right. If she cannot produce her sword she will have to abdicate the throne to me.”
“What? Rendy, you can’t challenge the empress on your own!” Bubbider said, “You can’t go straight to her like that- we need you here. We can’t save the whole world in one night, we have to free the colony. Once we’re free we can ally with the water continent. We have to fight together. General AlHadeen is making progress- that is how wars are won. We use sound military strategy. We don’t just rush in with one warrior and pretend as if that will do anything. If you take out Xandra, you will be assasinated by one of her relatives.”
“I mean,” Orenda shrugged, “You say that, but is that not exactly what the Emerald Knight did to my people? Did he not come in as one warrior and take out an entire culture?”
“No, as you know damn well!” Bubbider snapped, “The Urillians brought an army, Rendy! You know that! You know it as well as I do! I can’t believe you, of all people, are spouting this nonsense! You’ve lost your mind! You know better! We didn’t scrape by hiding and learning in shadows to educate you so that you could throw away everything you had learned on impulse and nonsense!”
Do not listen to her, master. You are the Chosen One. You are destined for great things, to wield great power. Find the artifact and you will be granted power to do everything you desire. You can smite your enemies, be they legend or empress. You need not hold the fear these mortals have. You are not one of them.
Orenda stared down at the staff.
Nothing comes from placating, master. You already know the answer in your soul. You create opportunities. You are not a coward who hides behind an army. You are destined for greatness, and I will lead you to power beyond your wildest dreams. You will be safe, you are the chosen one- but your warriors may not be. You would not put good people in danger to save yourself. Not again.
Orenda remembered the last time people tried to protect her. She remembered Charles, lying in the pool of blood, Ellie as her muscles gave out and her body collapsed, and Susan only half-believed in accounts recounted second-hand. She remembered the sound of a gunshot when Gareth shot a demon, the fear in his eyes as he ran, and the awe there when he found he was not dead. He had planned to die for her, too, that night.
The staff was right. She could not keep hiding behind others. She could not keep sacrificing others. She had been baptized in blood the day she was born- had traded two lives for one. She had been baptized in fire the day the library burned, traded three lives for one. It was no wonder the sacred flame had let her pass - she had already shown what she was willing to trade.
But no more. It would not happen again. No one else was going to die for her.
“That isn’t actually what I wanted to tell you,” Bubbider said, “But I don’t know if I should tell you now. Now that I know you’re determined to be stupid.”
“I’m not,” Orenda told her, “Not at all. Please, tell me. What is it?”
“I have… lain with a man,” Bubbider announced, and it broke the tension between them, and Orenda giggled with her.
“Oh my god you said that with such solemnity,” Orenda cackled, “I… we haven’t really sat down and talked, as friends, in so long! I have things to tell you, as well- you’ll never believe this, but so have I!”
“I don’t believe it!” Bubbider said, “I don’t believe it at all!”
“Who was it?” Orenda settled back on the bed, scooted to prop herself up on the pillows.
“No, you tell me first,” Bubbider demanded.
“I can’t, Bubby, you’ll make fun of me for the rest of our lives!” Orenda threw one hand over her face and snickered, “You’ll never let me live it down.”
“Oh my god,” Bubbider had to hold her stomach she was laughing so hard, “Oh my god I know! I can guess! That pathetic little noble who had a crush on you!”
“Stop laughing at me!” Orenda demanded and pulled one of the pillows over her face to hide her blush, “I know! I… I wish I could throw something at you! But you didn’t see him, Bubby, he was so sad and alone and both his parents were dead and I just… Bubby, Bubby he… he took notes. He took notes from a romance novel. He’s so stupid I… But he tried so hard and… I left him alone on the ocean.”
“He took notes,” Bubbider had fallen onto the floor, onto a pile of pillows that were apparently laid out there, “I absolutely will make fun of you. I’ll make fun of you forever. You know better! Have you just gotten dumber and dumber the longer you stay out of school?”
“I make bad choices,” Orenda lamented and threw the pillow off of her face, “I can’t help it! I think it may be hereditary. Madness apparently runs in my family.”
“Well you’ll never get rid of him now,” Bubbider laughed, “Once men have a taste they become obsessed. That’s what the older women say. Once you give in to them they will want you forever. They tell stories of women who have lived in fear, of men who have chased them their whole lives.”
“Don’t get all serious on me,” Orenda huffed, “I can’t ever imagine being afraid of Tolith. He isn’t going to stalk me. We parted amicably. Besides, even if he did I think I could take him out fairly easily. Oh… I burned his face. During. Now he has scars that he is… strangely proud of.”
“What?” Bubbider asked, “My god, why?”
“I don’t know,” Orenda lamented, “I couldn’t control it. It just flared up!”
“Lady Orenda Glenlen,” Bubbider teased.
“Stop it!” Rendy begged.
“No, I shan’t, not ever!” Bubbider laughed.
“You told me you would tell me who you had lain with,” Orenda pushed herself into a sitting position.
“Mine is less… well not less sad. Less sad for me,” Bubbider said. “You know that… I mean, I’m sure you know that Ali has been… through some things.”
“Oh,” Orenda said solemnly.
“He has a lot to… think about. To work through,” Bubbider’s entire attitude had changed, and Orenda listened attentively, “He can’t stand for anyone to touch him. I don’t even mean romantically- he freaks out if you lay a hand on his shoulder. He hides it well, in public- most people don’t know how badly it hurts him. But I saw it, I saw how he would tense up, how his eyes would narrow- there is a lot of negativity in him, a lot of… hate. And it is earned. His madness is earned. His mission was a success, but at such a high cost.”
“Oh,” Orenda said, because she did not know what else to say.
“He asked me to help him,” Bubbider told Orenda. “It was… it was a strange conversation. We were his only contacts, all that time, Rendy. I didn’t know that. He would, occasionally reach out to someone else, but not to talk, just to convey information. He trusted us, you and I, but you were only a child-”
“We were all children,” Orenda argued.
“You know what I mean,” Bubbider said, and unfortunately, Orenda did.
“Oh,” She said again.
“He wants… he only wants to be himself again,” Bubbider explained, “He… well what he really wants is to move back, to erase it, to make it as if none of it had ever happened. But he can’t do that.”
“Bubby, are you… safe?” Orenda asked, “Both of you, I mean? Is this really… a good time… to… do that? Right now? In the middle of a war?”
“He can’t fight like this, Rendy,” Bubbider said, “You don’t understand how broken he is. He thought he would feel better, after she was dead. He thought that she wouldn’t be able to control him from beyond the grave. But her claws are in him still. They’re in his mind. He got too deep.”
“We both told him to pull out,” Orenda reminded her.
“Yes,” Bubbider said, “But he didn’t, and we can’t change the past.”