Drake

How did a person explain to another person how glad he was to see her without just saying how glad he was to see her? By opening an impenetrable box, Drake guessed, and possibly getting himself killed on a magical island. Rosaliy did not seem to understand Drake would have told her anything she wanted to hear. She was alive. Her very presence filled him with maybes he had no right considering. Since death was still a real and present possibility, he could shove all those maybes to the background for now, even though everything he was ignoring was threatening to catch up to him all at once in a terrifying rush of confusion.

He pushed on the last tentacle of the octopus puzzle box, and after a tense moment of uncertainty, the box clicked. Drake let out a pent up breath and pulled the top from the box, revealing silky fabric wrapped around a lump. The light of Rosaliy’s glowing stone cast an eerie green pallor over their underwater bubble, so it was hard to tell, but the fabric looked like a deep crimson, the universal color of danger.

“Careful with the stone,” Rosaliy warned. “At least, I hope it’s a stone.”

The worst of her fight with healing potion was over, which was a relief. He had run out of things to talk about, not that he had done a stellar job while he had been trying. As a sign of Rosaliy’s improved condition, she swept her hair back into a damp version of her normal ponytail, using a soggy scarf wrapped around her belt to tie her hair in place, her way of bringing order to chaos.

Drake’s fingers—about to reach into the box—hesitated. “What does it do?”

“Hopefully it calls the— What did Jadelynn call it? The Grandpoco?”

“Granpulpo,” he corrected, not sure why he was bothering since he hoped to be wrong.

“Yes, that.”

His heart stopped long enough for the chill of his damp clothes to tingle on his skin. Tossing around words like “Granpulpo” on the water—let alone underwater—was enough to spook the most hardened of sailors. His fingers drew back from the wrapped silk. “And this seemed like a good idea, because…”

His cautious words tugged a smile from the corners of her mouth. “Hey, I didn’t see you here coming up with brilliant ideas while you were running around the desert getting kidnapped.”

Her accusation was not a real one. He pushed the open box her way. She needlessly moved the box closer to herself and straightened it, telltale signs of nervous stalling.

“It seemed like a terrible way to get to the island, and therefore unexpected,” she admitted. “Plus, it was the first thing we found.”

We? This was a collaborative effort? “Has anyone successfully used this before?”

“I wish anyone was here to give me the answer,” she grumbled, returning her eyes to the ominous lump of fabric in front of her. “You were an expert on the box, but not its contents?”

He was an expert on stealing valuable objects. He rarely stopped to care about the objects themselves.

“If this works, what’s the plan?” he asked as casually as possible, both sidestepping her question and realizing if step one was locating a highly poisonous sea creature that could crush ships on a whim, he should prepare himself for step two now.

She shook her head and rocked back on her knees. “I’ve been so focused on finding a way to that island, I haven’t had time to stop and think about what to do when I get there. I have no idea. Not one. What could I possibly do that Arlana and Daniella couldn’t, let alone Issabeth, Athena, Katyrinna, Alexander…” She shot him a pained look. “Daniella chose me because the Flifary thought I was inconsequential.”

Drake might have said any number of encouraging things, but instead, he blurted out, “Inconsequential sounds wonderful. To be able to do anything or nothing and not affect anyone else.”

He couldn’t seem to do anything without dragging people down with him.

“I can practically hear you being too hard on yourself,” she accused.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Never too.

She sighed and shook her head. “Assuming we make it to the island— And you’re sure you don’t want to make a run for it? Or a swim, I suppose.”

“No,” he chuckled softly. There were worse things than swift death.

“Then do you have any ideas on how to bring down an evil pack of magicians on their home turf?”

He was sure this whole conversation could have been going better, but he did know more than a little about turf battles. “You know how the pirates defeated the royalty?” he asked.

“They blasted a hole in the side of the king’s castle?”

“That was just property damage. Mostly, they walked around telling everyone they were in charge. Sure, they had some weaponry to back up their claims, but it’s amazing how many people just fall in line when you tell them you’re the boss. People may not have supported the pirates, but they certainly had no love for the King. Apathy turned a large war into a quick battle.”

“So in a way, the inconsequential decided the war?”

“Sure, but it didn’t hurt to have an armada of pirate ships and enough firepower to blast a hole in the side of a castle.”

She thought this over, fingers stealing back toward the box in some sort of unconscious decision-making. “Considering how well the pirates plan, that does make me feel better about my chances,” she decided. “Maybe if I make it to the island in one piece, I can figure it all out.”

This did seem like a “one thing at a time” situation.

“Just to clarify, we’re traveling to Flifary Island by giant octopus.”

She was being frighteningly non-specific about the logistics involved.

“Right,” she agreed, running her fingers down the sides of the box.

“How?” he prodded.

“Umm…” Rosaliy hummed. “There’s a fat book on magical sea life I never seem to find time to read sitting on my bookshelf at Crystal Palace. If I make it through all this, I promise to read it first thing. All I know is there is magical compulsion involved. If you touch the stone, Granpulpo will transport you to Flifary Island.”

She was likely keeping the “in theory” part to herself.

“Hopefully without running us through the heart with its poisonous barbs. Unless they’re a myth.”

“They’re real,” she said. “I’ve heard Alexander’s stories. Let’s definitely avoid those.”

There came a time in the middle of every insane plan where one just had to make peace with the holes and deal with them as they came. He shrugged. “If you say magic will get us there, then magic will get us there. I guess we’ll find out soon enough firsthand.”

She turned her eyes on him with a fervent, caring earnestness. “You really can leave,” was what she said. The words were strangely opposite what her eyes were telling him. “If this fails, at least you could keep looking for the kids. They must be somewhere. This isn’t even your fight.”

He had to laugh at this. Laughter was an inappropriate response, so he did not laugh outwardly, but the statement was darkly funny nonetheless. “It’s never my fight,” he tried to explain. Never. He had no idea what his fight even was. At least this fight was worth fighting.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here, even if it would be nicer of me not to be glad you’re here.” She winced. “Can I be both at once?”

If anyone could weather that kind of paradox, Rosaliy could. “Both are flattering,” he agreed.

“At least try your best not to get hurt. I’d feel terrible.”

“I’m eerily skilled at walking away from things like this,” he promised.

“From sea monsters and magical enemies trying to rule the world?” she murmured.

She was not looking for a response as she had turned her focus back to the ominous box, but, yes, situations just like those.

“You really aren’t afraid of anything normal,” she said, more in his direction.

In some twisted way, the only thing he was afraid of right now was disappointing her—the only fear he could understand, at least. “I might be able to muster up a normal level of terror when faced with a legendary sea monster, but no promises.” At least the Granpulpo had no soul-shattering venom.

Rosaliy opened up the red silk wrapping, carefully pulling back the folded layers until she was staring at the stone inside. It was a shade of deep pink—a rough, jagged gem about the size of a thumbnail.

“I’m thinking we both touch it at the same time?” Her statement turned into a question halfway through. She locked eyes with his, looking for either confirmation or an appeal to sense. He could offer neither. If they did not reach the island, the Flifary would hunt Rosaliy down and kill her. She had proved to them she was a threat. A proactive strike was her best defense. If that meant taking a chance on the questionable goodwill of Granpulpo, well, there were worse ways to go.

~~~~~

Quita had been napping in the corner. She had been sulking her hardest, but no one had paid any attention, so she had dozed off, exhausted with the effort of her misery. After sufficient rest to muster up more rage, she cracked open an eye to glare at the girl who had stolen her sparkly treat earlier. The soggy girl was talking to Drake. In front of them sat a box. Upon sighting the lumpy pink object nestled on a bed of rich fabric, Quita knew she must have that thing. Whatever it was, it looked tasty. She had been robbed of her sparkly prize before. She had been dragged underwater. There were no nuts here. She deserved this. She needed this.

She dove, ignoring screams and flailing arms. She had her treasure in her hands, and no one was going to take this one from her. Just as Drake scooped her up, she popped the treat in her mouth and swallowed it in one jagged gulp.