Jadelynn

Wrapped around a tiny bottle, Cliff’s fingers hovered over Sorceress Athena’s head. “So, this should just work?”

“Wait,” cautioned Jadelynn, running her fingers down Rosaliy’s notes. She had to scoot the lantern closer to the notebook to see. So much time had passed searching through Rosaliy’s notebooks and finding the right keys. It was the dead of night by the time they were ready to use the potion, and the words were swimming in front of Jadelynn’s tired eyes. “One…drop. Or two.” Jadelynn was always forgetting measures of weight. At least Rosaliy had all her supplies meticulously labeled. This was definitely the right potion, not one that would be turning the Sorceress into a raccoon or a pile of diamonds. Jadelynn scanned further. “Never mind. You’re supposed to place a drop on each of her wrists.”

Cliff drew back. “Are you sure this time?”

No. “Yes, wrists. I’m sure that’s what Sorceress Rosaliy did when Iris started growing mushrooms all over her body.” Sort of sure.

“What if someone was outside when this spell hit?” claimed Matias. “I should go look around. Outside.” This was a good point, but really Matias was just trying to get himself out of any possible danger.

“Fine, go.” Jadelynn shooed him off.

“Mushrooms?” asked Cliff.

“I don’t know. It was some kind of fungus.” She waved her hands, annoyed at being distracted. “It’s not important.”

She grabbed the bottle from his hand and tipped it, holding her finger tight on the end of the small bottle. Cliff turned over the limp woman’s wrists where she lay slumped over her desk. Jadelynn smeared her wet finger on Athena’s wrist like perfume, except this concoction was the opposite of pungent. What faint smell of aging books had permeated the room was now gone and replaced by nothing—the complete absence of smell. Jadelynn would have known more about this potion if she paid more attention in her classes. There was no immediate effect on Athena, so Jadelynn moved to her other wrist.

The ground shook under their feet.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Cliff asked nervously.

Jadelynn shrugged.

Athena blinked and stirred.

“It’s working,” said Cliff, who either enjoyed making obvious statements or hearing himself talk.

“Do you remember what happened?” Jadelynn asked a groggy Sorceress Athena.

But her glorious moment of impressing Sorceress Athena with her magical prowess was interrupted by Matias skidding into the room like he had run in at full speed.

“You need to come outside,” he spluttered.

“Not now, Mat,” Jadelynn answered with literally gritted teeth. He could be so cluelessly irritating.

“Now,” he insisted. “There’s an— Well, see for yourselves. Look out the window.”

Normally Jadelynn would have refused to look out of spite, but there was something compelling in his tone. They all twisted to see out the window wall. They saw…something. Off in the distance, there were dozens of glowing lights illuminating curious silhouettes.

“Were those trees there before?” Cliff asked first.

“No,” Jadelynn and Athena replied in unison.

Jadelynn was unsure what she was seeing. Athena was more sure.

“Flifary Island,” she murmured.

The mass of sand and palm trees and green vines did look like it might be Flifary Island, except it was sitting in the middle of the Glade. Why was it sitting in the middle of the Glade?

Cliff pressed his face to the glass, cupping his hands against his eyes to see. “Are those people?”

Athena flipped open a trunk nestled against her desk. She rifled through, opening sliding drawers and moving compartments before she pulled open a segmented wooden box to reveal several carved stones. She gathered up the stones and gripped them securely.

“What are those?” asked Jadelynn. The symbol was almost one she knew, but she could not place it.

“Protection,” Athena said.

Cliff gaped out the window. “You think they’ve come to attack us?”

“Why else?” Athena’s words were soft and chilling. Had Rosaliy failed? Was this all part of a Flifary plan to take over? What was happening?

“Why are you just standing there?” Matias exclaimed. “Go magic them back to the ocean or something.” He wiggled his fingers toward the window for emphasis. Honestly, he spent half the time Jadelynn was home mocking her magical abilities and the other half begging her to use magic to solve all his problems.

Matias’s words were not helpful, but they did jolt Athena into action. “Jadelynn, wake the rest of the palace. Start with Dmitri. And any guards you see.” She turned to Cliff. “Who are you?”

He smiled and bowed. “Cliffinzo of the—”

“He’ll come with me,” Jadelynn interrupted. “Mat, you’re going to go wake up the drawbridge guards and get them to haul up the bridge.”

~~~~~

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Rosaliy

Rosaliy finally braved words. “The island isn’t shaking.” Her voice sure was, though. Her words sounded hollow, like they were echoing inside her head. “It must have worked.”

“‘It’ what?” muttered Issabeth.

That was the question. Rosaliy had been hoping Issabeth knew.

While Rosaliy and Issabeth were stunned, Dalor used this opportunity to attempt an escape. Issabeth snatched him by his loose clothes and knocked him to the ground, planting a foot on his back to anchor him.

“Izz?” Rosaliy could hear a quiet voice. Issabeth jumped as if she was hearing it loud and clear.

“Cedricowen?” she yelped. “Where are you? Where am I?”

“Are you joking?”

“Why would I be joking?”

“You’re home. You’re standing a furlong away.”

Issabeth stared at Rosaliy. “Did you hear…?”

Rosaliy bobbed her head, but the movement made her dizzy.

“I’m coming there,” said Cedric’s voice.

“Wait, no,” Issabeth argued. “We need to…” Her head swiveled, like she was looking for a plan. She did not find one. “Things. Many things need to be done.”

“Iketa,” Rosaliy managed to choke out. Assuming Dalor’s spell was as poorly made as everything else he had done, the paralysis would be wearing off soon. “We need to make sure everybody is ok.”

By the time Issabeth and Rosaliy managed to drag a squirming Dalor back to the palace entrance, Daniella was barking orders to Drake to cut vines to tie up Iketa. Iketa was underneath the jaguar Zaphia was scratching between the ears. The amulet was around the girl’s neck, and she was chattering to the big cat in Flifary baby-talk. “No more bad Iketa,” Rosaliy heard her say. “Bue gatito.”

Dalor sank to the ground on his knees next to Iketa. “She was right,” he mumbled to Iketa or maybe just to himself. “The whole time. I almost— We almost—” Nobody paid his rambling any attention.

“What’s happened?” asked Arlana.

Spots swam in front of Rosaliy’s eyes. She ignored them. Whatever magic Issabeth had produced must have been another powerful shot to Rosaliy’s system. Next, she heard pounding. She squeezed a hand to her head, but after a moment, she realized the sound was a rush of feet coming at them from the jungle. Two spear-holding men burst into the light illuminating the palace entry. An entourage of at least a dozen Flifary men and women came with the guards. The people on the island had survived, so Rosaliy took a moment to rejoice in their continued existence. Of course, they were very agitated about something.

The guards looked to Iketa—who was bound and pinned by an angry jaguar—and Dalor—rocking slightly and mumbling to himself—and then Arlana. A few of the people who looked like normal citizens murmured, casting glances toward the ex-Seer and keeping their distance.

A guard finally braved the question in Flifary. “On…going?” Rosaliy’s language potion had decided to give a feeble effort. Her ears tingled like someone was stabbing them with pins.

“Nayro,” Arlana said. The guard’s eyebrows rose, surprised and more than a little concerned the Seer knew his name. “Explain why you’re here.”

Nayro and his partner exchanged a glance.

“Somebody cough up something already,” Iketa growled from under her furry prison.

Arlana gathered her arms around herself like she noticed a chill in the air. Maybe she did, but Rosaliy felt like she was on fire.

“Where the ocean used to be,” the guard’s partner tried to explain, “the ocean isn’t.”

“We may literally be in the Glade,” Issabeth admitted.

Arlana tipped her head, taking this in. “You transported the island instead of disabling the weapon.”

Issabeth nodded, shrugging. “It was Rosaliy’s idea.”

Was it?

“It was a good idea,” praised Arlana. “There was no way to disable the weapon once activated. Well, no way that I saw.”

“You saw all this coming?” Issabeth’s question was equal parts judging and incredulous.

“No,” disagreed Arlana. “Not this moment in particular. So many factors have changed.”

“The island destruction part, though,” Issabeth pressed.

“In every scenario, they activated the weapon to kill Rin,” countered Arlana. “I did not anticipate them activating the weapon if Daniella could protect the children and keep Rin from coming.”

“Not kill,” Dalor tried to object with a quavering, shrill voice. “Just siphon magic from.”

“Stop talking,” threatened Issabeth.

“I tried to warn them,” Arlana sighed. “There was a tiny chance Dalor would listen, but he chose a more destructive path at Iketa and Ocery’s urging.”

“You’re the one who destroyed the temple,” Nayro said.

“For good reason,” piped up Zaphia. “Iketa, Dalor, and Ocery were lying to us about everything.”

“There was enough twisted veracity in their assertions to call what they said half truths,” Arlana corrected.

“Rose.” Drake had worked his way next to Rosaliy and leaned over to talk quietly in her ear. “Am I understanding you dropped Flifary Island and everything on it in the Glade?”

Now she felt a cool breeze sting her blazing hot skin. “Not me personally,” she tried to answer without shuddering, “but I hope so. Dalor was about to destroy the whole thing.”

He took this in. “Should someone warn Crystal Palace?”

“Warn?” Rosaliy asked. “Don’t you think the island will be obvious enough?”

“I do,” he agreed, “and more than a little suspicious.”

She had to stop and repeat his last word to herself before it had meaning. “As in they might think we’re here for nefarious reasons?”

“I would.”

“He makes an excellent point,” contributed Daniella. That woman had the ears of a bat.

“We need to find out where we landed,” Rosaliy suggested to Issabeth, “and find Athena.”

“Sounds reasonable,” agreed Issabeth. She pointed to Iketa. “If you two would manage that one, I’ve got him.” She referred to a still-stunned Dalor. Issabeth jerked him from the ground and prodded him forward.

Drake did the bulk of the managing, although Rosaliy did have the presence of mind to bind Iketa’s hands with vines; Iketa’s transporting fog was not needed to complicate things. Rosaliy had to ignore a rolling wave of lightheadedness where she briefly lost sight of her arm and left foot. The magic was still at battle all through her.

Rosaliy forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, and soon they were on shore. What was once the shore was now a wall of Flifary pressed together anxiously as though the sand formed some sort of physical barrier.

“Too late,” murmured Drake. He pointed to the figures standing off in the distance, barely black outlines in the night sky.

“We need to get through,” Rosaliy fretted.

“I can help there,” said Arlana. In fact, the crowd nearest her had already noticed her and was beginning to part nervously.

“You. Ground,” Issabeth barked to Dalor. Once she had Dalor and Iketa situated face first in the sand, she left Drake and Daniella to monitor them.

Trailing Arlana, Rosaliy and Issabeth made their way to the front of the crowd. Where the ocean should have been, a sandy beach stretched off until it tapered off into grass. Throngs of Flifary hovered on this makeshift shore nervously, afraid to venture farther.

Issabeth did not share their hesitation, and she breezed past, ignoring their wide-mouthed stares. The sand was still damp under Rosaliy’s feet, and she could just make out Athena as one of the silhouettes on the crest of the dark hill, but those were the last two things she remembered.

A delayed surge of magic chose the wrong moment to crackle through Rosaliy’s system. She stumbled, and her vision went black.

When Rosaliy opened her eyes again an instant later, she was flat on her back on her bed. It was either still dark or dark again. She shot up in bed, a horrible idea.

“I’m not supposed to let you do that,” warned a voice.

Her hazy eyes located Daniella.

“When is it? What day? What’s happening?”

“It’s the same day,” Daniella promised, not really answering the spirit of the question Rosaliy had meant to ask.

“Iketa? Dalor?” she blurted out.

“Handled,” Daniella answered. “They were shipped down to—what was it called—The Pit?”

That was a perfect place for them.

“The Flifary—somebody needs to tell Athena—”

“Done,” Daniella interrupted. “There are more than a few holes in the story yet, but Athena and Arlana have managed to hash out some tentative ground rules.”

“Is Drake—?”

“Perhaps I should tell the story in order,” Daniella interrupted her once more.

Rosaliy flopped back and sighed. “Yes, please.”