Drake

When Rosaliy pitched forward, momentary chaos erupted. Drake lost focus for the instant it took Iketa to roll over and throw herself into Drake’s knees. The drawback of sand was that he had no chance to keep his footing against such a tackle. Sand as a fighting turf had as many benefits as drawbacks. He would have righted himself had Iketa not kicked him in the chest the moment he was distracted by Quita clawing his shoulder in consternation. He was sent sprawling all over again. At least the angry monkey finally jumped clear of him.

At the same moment, a dome of light appeared above their heads. This was too much for a crowd on edge. First there was a scream, and then there was general shouting and threats of a stampede. Iketa was just out of Drake’s grasp, and for a perfect moment, she had a clear path to sprint off into the confused crowd.

“Gatito!” shouted Zaphia, and one of her new cat friends had Iketa back on the ground before Iketa could do any more damage.

“Quiet!” Arlana’s voice boomed in a way that must have been magical, because her voice was everywhere all at once and audible above the yelling and pandemonium. Also, Drake felt himself freeze. “Be still,” the reverberating voice said again, and he was free to move after the moment of paralysis. The crowd was uneasy, but obedient. They, too, had control of their voices and bodies, but they only dared to speak to each other in whispers. “Seer?” was the only word Drake could pick out.

Arlana barked an order in Flifary, but no one moved.

Arlana sighed, and she came to Zaphia. “My popularity is low, little one,” Arlana said in a normal, localized voice. “I think explanations would be better from you.”

“Me?” Zaphia spluttered. “No one will listen to me. Especially not loyal followers of Iketa and Dalor.”

While Zaphia argued with Arlana, Daniella held out an arm, and Drake took it.

“I saw that,” she said with half a smirk as she helped him up.

“Saw what?” he grumbled, beating sand off himself.

“Exploitable weakness,” mused Daniella. “Although I’m sure it has a nicer name. Zaphia has the prisoners under control. Go see what’s wrong with her.”

Zaphia had clambered onto a boulder and waved her hands for attention before she began chattering away. Whatever she was saying, she was saying a lot of it, and she certainly had everyone’s attention. Everyone but Drake. Daniella was right; he was only focused on one thing, and she was just past the crowd pressing in on him. He slipped through as the Flifary drew closer to hear Zaphia.

Issabeth was on her knees next to a fallen Rosaliy.

“Drake,” Issabeth barked. “Check on Rose. I need to stop us all from being destroyed or something.” She waved her arms at the glowing light surrounding them—surrounding the entire island, it appeared. Then she hopped up. “Athena,” Issabeth yelled, waving her arms. “Athena, it’s me and Rose.”

At some point, Issabeth talked Athena into dropping the dome of light to talk, but Drake barely noticed. He was busy rolling Rosaliy over like she was made of glass and brushing her thick hair out of her face. She looked like she was flushed red, but they were quite a ways from the light of the Flifary torches, so it was hard to tell. Carefully, his hand stole to her neck. He finally breathed when he felt her heartbeat. In fact, her heart was racing.

Athena was at his elbow now, pressing a hand to Rosaliy’s forehead and leaning close. “What’s happened?”

“She seemed fine when she decided it was a brilliant idea to—” Issabeth vanished from sight and stopped in the middle of her statement. “Aren’t we fighting?” Drake heard her say.

“No,” something responded.

“Are you sure? That seems unlikely,” Issabeth responded, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“One hundred percent sure,” came an invisible response.

“Rosaliy is unbalanced,” said Athena to Drake like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. “What kind of magic has she been exposed to?”

“I don’t know,” he stammered. Should he know? So much had happened all at once. “Is she hurt?”

“Old Coaster healing potion,” Jadelynn answered, because she had arrived. How had that girl gotten to the Glade?

“Drake!” exclaimed Cliff clapping Drake on the back and confusing him completely. What was Cliff doing here? Drake had no room in his head for any of these things.

“Healing potion?” Athena repeated.

Drake dug the jar out of his pocket and thrust it at her. The Sorceress rolled the jar over in her hand. “Rose would have known better than to use any conflicting spells while this was doing its work,” Athena said dubiously, “but I’ll examine her back in the palace.” She looked up and waved in the direction of the Flifary who were starting to venture off the sand, poking their toes in the grass and shivering in the chill of the Naxturaen Glade. “Once someone can tell me what’s going on. Who is to blame for all this?”

“Blame is a complex concept, old friend,” said Arlana softly, drawing toward them, “but if the amulets in the young Sorceress’s hand will send someone to the Naxturaen Pit for safekeeping, I recommend those two.”

Arlana stretched her bracelet-laden arm back toward the island. Iketa and Dalor were visible in the glow of a torch, Iketa still pinned by a jaguar and Dalor cowed by Daniella’s icy stare.

“You found her,” murmured Athena. “The children?”

That question was for Drake. “Probably safe,” was the best he could offer as an answer. Had anyone explained to him why Rosaliy was not waking up?

Athena shook her head, unsatisfied. “Jadelynn,” she ordered. “Go with the Seer.”

“Did somebody warn them about the spider creature epidemic in the caves down there?” asked Issabeth, out of breath when she popped back into view.

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Jadelynn was already out of earshot, and nobody felt like running her down.

Zaphia was wrapping up her rousing speech in the background. People were clamoring to ask questions now.

Cliff nearly jumped out of his skin as a tiny, claw-bearing weight scrambled its way up his back. He produced a chestnut from his side pocket for Quita. “What happened to Rose?” he asked.

Drake wished he could answer that question. Athena was patting her throat in a way that seemed investigatory.

“How did you get here?” Drake asked instead of attempting an answer. He was very quickly made sorry he had asked as Cliff detailed his journey and the discovery of the sleeping palace. Since Rosaliy still wasn’t waking up, Drake heard about half of what Cliff was saying.

“Arlana,” Athena asked as soon as the Seer had returned with Jadelynn and Daniella, “why is your island in the middle of the Glade?”

“That’s my fault,” Issabeth admitted.

“It’s Dalor’s fault,” Daniella amended.

A baffled Arlana shook her head in amazement. “I can hardly believe he attempted to use his weapon.”

“Desperate times,” muttered Daniella, “make small people resort to drastic measures.”

“Where are the children?” Athena asked Daniella directly.

Daniella stared back like they no longer spoke the same language. Her eyes were slightly pained.

“She doesn’t know,” Drake answered for her.

“And I have less than half a clue what’s going on,” added Issabeth. “You’ll have to ask Rose.”

Nobody was asking Rosaliy anything.

“I intend to,” Athena sighed. “Are any of your people a threat to Crystal Palace?”

“Possibly,” Arlana admitted. “Iketa, Dalor, and Ocery had plenty of loyal followers. None that were as dangerous or ruthless as they were, but—” Arlana threw up her hands. “I truly have no way to know. The divination stone must be buried in a crater at the bottom of Lansilia Ocean by now.”

“Sounds like we have quite a bit of catching up to do,” said Athena.

“Yes, my friend,” agreed Arlana.

Drake needed them to be moving with a good deal less bewilderment and a good deal more urgency, but still the women chattered like they were having a meeting over tea.

“Arlana, if you would instruct your people to stay on their island—or whatever it is now—we can get some answers,” Athena was saying.

“I’ll set up a barrier,” Arlana agreed,” but I can’t imagine such a thing will have a positive effect on my popularity.”

“Would you follow me with Rosaliy?” Athena asked Drake. Finally.

He scooped Rosaliy from the ground. She moaned softly, and her head lolled back into his elbow. When he glanced back, a swirling fog bank was unfurling its way around the island. Soon, he could only see the glow of the lanterns through the thick fog.

“The Naxturae are still in there,” Drake pointed out.

“Good, good,” Athena muttered, not bothering to look behind her. “They’ll have the island under control in no time.”

Two men were waiting at the base of the palace steps. One was an imposing man with graying hair Drake remembered from his stay at the palace, and the other was Matias.

“What did you do to Rose?” Matias accused, catching sight of Drake.

“Why are you everywhere I am?” Drake answered.

“I should never have let her get tangled up with the likes of you,” Matias growled.

Drake could not acknowledge Matias without the temptation to squash him like the pest he was, but his arms were full, and Matias was easy to ignore.

“Dmitri,” Athena addressed the other man. “The Pit has two new residents, and I need to care for Rosaliy. Is the rest of the staff awake?”

“Took us this long to find Polz,” Dmitri answered. “He had tumbled into a pile of table linens to be washed. Everyone else is functioning.”

“Thank you, Dmitri,” Athena said with a tired smile. “I knew you could handle this on your own.”

“It does seem like I’m breaking a sleeping curse every other week,” he grumbled darkly. “I’ll go check on the Pit.”

“The newcomers have been legitimately incarcerated,” Athena warned him, “but they could use food and some form of spider repellent, perhaps.”

Athena beckoned to Drake to continue following her, and she stopped Cliff, Jadelynn, and Matias from doing the same, rescuing Drake from needing to pound Matias into the ground. Daniella was the only other person Athena insisted on keeping close. They were shuffled into a cozy little room with a table, lanterns, and a small bed.

“Sit,” Athena ordered while pondering a wall full of jars and herbs tied in bundles.

Drake and Daniella followed orders.

Athena set the jar of healing draught in front of Drake. “How long has it been since she took this?”

“Last night,” he replied, relieved to know the answer to her first question.

“Did she take anything else?” asked Athena.

“I haven’t seen her to know,” answered Drake, his brief elation at having information immediately quashed.

“Seen,” Daniella murmured. “She was invisible.”

Athena’s gray eyes widened. “She cast an invisibility spell on herself under the influence of a healing potion?”

Neither of them had any way to answer that question, but Athena was just thinking out loud at this point, so their silence was irrelevant.

“Hardly seems like a mistake she would make,” Athena muttered, backing away from the herbs in front of her. “I’m going to need something less magical and more mundane.”

Issabeth poked her head in. “Need me to use the pearl?”

“That’s the opposite of what Rosaliy needs,” Athena told her. “I think being magically transported in her condition is what tipped her over the edge.”

“She might have mentioned that,” said Issabeth, “although—” She bobbed her head in consideration. “The island was about to explode at the time.”

“What can we do?” Drake interrupted.

“The best course of action is nothing,” Athena replied. “Although I might be able to rouse her and drag out some useful specifics, it would be kinder to let her rest and rebalance.” Athena took in all the occupants of her little room. “The same is true for all of you,” she decided.

None of them had any intention of resting, but they did agree to move Rosaliy to her room. Drake gathered her up to carry her. Her skin was still on fire.

“What about her memory loss?” asked Issabeth, jabbing a finger in Daniella’s direction.

“Daniella would be the expert on that subject,” pointed out Athena. “Perhaps she left herself an antidote.”

Daniella’s room was on the way up to Rosaliy and Issabeth’s hallway, so they detoured that direction. Although the hallway had been patched up, Daniella’s door was lying in several chunks in a pile next to the splintered doorframe.

“I feel like Athena forgot to mention something,” said an amused Issabeth, peering into the destroyed room.

“Daniella set a swarm of shadow creatures in the palace just after she left,” Drake explained. He could have sworn Rosaliy shuddered. “They were trapped in her room, and they burst out like…a swarm of shadow creatures.”

Issabeth smirked. “Very descriptive. Thank you.”

“That was why the Queen was taken to safety,” Daniella guessed.

Issabeth chuckled. “She’s going to love that. Sometimes I think you stay up nights thinking of new ways to make people mad at you.”

Drake shifted Rosaliy’s weight on his arm. He should have delivered her to her room before this detour, but he was less anxious having her close.

Daniella’s room was in shambles. What seemed like a lifetime ago, Drake had been standing in this room to search for clues with Rosaliy, and from the outside, it looked like he had been the last one to brave the room. In fact, it looked like the hallway had been cleared by taking everything that had exploded from the room into the hallway and shoving it back inside. Drake guessed the servants were afraid to touch any of Daniella’s things lest they release any more monsters.

Daniella reached down and picked up a shattered piece of rounded pottery, charred on the edges—a flower pot, maybe. “It’s fitting,” she said.

She might have meant the room reflected her mental state or was what she deserved. Drake had no need to ask.

“Think you might have left yourself a clue to where the kids are?” Issabeth asked. “Under the rubble?”

Daniella stared at the shattered room. “No. The children weren’t meant to be found until after the Queen’s return.”

“How do you know?” asked Issabeth suspiciously. “Are you remembering?”

Daniella shook her head, just slightly. “It’s what I would do,” she explained, making no move toward the room.

“This place will be home again before you know it,” said Drake, feeling some need to be reassuring. Unfortunately, he meant to be genuine, but his tone was so flat and monotone, not even he believed himself.

“Home is an odd concept for someone with no memories,” Daniella replied.

“I wouldn’t know,” he admitted.

“About home or memories?” she asked.

“I have too little of one and too much of the other,” he replied.

“You two are a special kind of depressing,” interrupted Issabeth. “Let’s get Rosaliy situated.”