The Mapkeeper and the Rise of the Wardens (13 page)

Arguing broke out among the leaders once again.

Suddenly, a resounding crash exploded somewhere behind Lucy, and the chandeliers far overhead extinguished. At the same time, the doors to the Great Hall burst open and a rush of cold air extinguished the tabletop candles. With what little light was left and her eyes being maladjusted to the darkness, Lucy couldn’t see a thing! Her heartbeat began to thunder in her chest, her instincts telling her she was in danger. There were groping hands and confused muttering. She found Mack’s arm beside her, clinging to it in the darkness.

A sickening thud came from somewhere to her right.

“Mack, what’s going on? Can you see anything?” she whispered, her voice quavering as she clung to her brother’s arm.

“No, I am just starting to be able to make out silhouettes,” he replied, his voice shaky.

A female voice screamed—a high-pitched scream of genuine horror. The hairs on the back of Lucy’s neck stood up as the faintest puff of air dusted the back of her neck, as if someone had just exhaled directly behind her. She whirled around, her heart thundering in her chest, but could see no one through the darkness. Her breaths came in ragged, terrified spurts, her eyes straining against the shroud of darkness.

“Pardon me, excuse us,” Milo’s voice joined the chaos from somewhere across the table. She turned around to see him lean across the table, his face illuminated by the glow of a lit candlestick. He lit five more, making his way along the table top. Farther down the table, several servants did the same.

To her immense relief, at last a dim glow hovered over the table, illuminating the frightened faces of the clan leaders. Milo used his candlestick to light a portable lantern, and then scurried to the king and queen’s end of the table. There was a great scuffling of chairs and footsteps. In the dim light, Lucy saw a form that appeared to be Queen Oleksandra bent over something on the floor.

The chandeliers overhead flickered back on, illuminating the hall. A servant heaved the Great Hall doors closed, and all was still. Each guest stood around the table behind or near their original seats.

Lucy gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. Queen Oleksandra and three servants knelt over a body. King Muttongale lay unmoving on the floor, blood gushing from a gash on his head.

Heavy sheets of rain and furious lightning shredded the sky in the distance.

“Whoa, it’s getting dark outside!” Luke leaned back, staring upward.

“Let me see,” Lucy leaned over him and peered out the window. Colossal black clouds roiled overhead, making swift progress toward them from somewhere over the Dark Sea. A thick bolt of jagged lighting split the sky, making apparent landfall somewhere between them and the sea.

After a quiet, gloomy breakfast, Cadmus, Lucy, and her brothers had departed the castle by carriage, hoping to find Zadok in Doldrums Forest to discuss the previous night’s events. He was the one clan leader they all agreed could be trusted, though Mack had voted for a visit to the Tree of Virtue to see the Bellaux.

They made it down the Royale Byway without incident.

“That lightning bolt was huge!” Lucy’s eyes widened and she sat back, allowing Luke to have another look. A disconcerting blow of thunder exploded as thick drops of rain began to splat against the roof of the carriage.

Cadmus’ lips were set in a thin line. Rain began to hammer the roof as he slid open the panel separating the passengers from the driver. “Take us to the satyr’s hut,” he ordered. The crack of reins and an abrupt whinny preceded a jolt of speed. “We need to get to shelter. There’s no way we’re crossing the valley with this storm closing in,” he rubbed his forehead and peered out at the sky, now blanketed in darkness.

Rhys’ hut was a faded brown shingled A-frame structure on a ridge overlooking Glacial Lake. The ridge boasted a distant view of Pernicious Landing, which was spitting sea foam as powerful waves slapped its craggy rocks. Exiting the carriage, they dodged raindrops as they ran to the hut. Four of Lucy’s guards remained huddled in the carriage outside, but two had insisted on accompanying her inside the hut and now flanked the door, keeping a watchful eye on their charge.

“How is the king?” Rhys asked as he passed around flimsy, mismatched tin mugs of hot tea.

“He hasn’t come out of it yet,” Cadmus’ brow furrowed. “The castle maester fears he has slipped into a coma.”

Lucy winced with sadness not just for the king, but also for the queen, who hadn’t left his side since the previous night’s attack. The queen had maintained remarkable composure throughout the ordeal. She’d shared her thoughts with Lucy later, fearing that whoever wished harm to a king as virtuous as King Muttongale no doubt had evil intentions. Though they’d searched the guests before they left the castle, neither weapons nor suspects were discovered.

“I fear this is just the beginning,” she had confided. “You must be vigilant, Lucy. Do not let your guard down for even a moment. There is a traitor among the clan leaders, and now no one is safe—least of all you, my dear.” She’d placed a hand on Lucy’s arm. Her concern affected Lucy to her core.
Is this what it might be like to have a mother?
she wondered. The sudden thought had sent physical pain shooting through her heart.

“It’s a shame. These are dicey times we’re living in,” Rhys grunted as he joined them around the cramped table, squatting onto a low wooden stool. “Did you know there’s a whorl forming?”

“I saw it from the castle turret this morning,” Cadmus confirmed, his lips set in that familiar, grim line.

“A whorl?” Luke scratched his head as he accepted a tin mug of tea.

“A giant whirlpool in the Dark Sea. Legend has it the same thing happened last time.” Cadmus had swept his damp, matted hair to one side when they’d come inside. His long, dark eyelashes were exaggerated in the ever-changing candle light and his cheeks were flushed berry red. He took a gulp of tea and flinched. “Ouch, that’s hot!”

“What’d you expect?” Rhys muttered, swallowing a large mouthful of the scalding liquid without wincing. “I first spotted the whorl from my ridge this morning,” the satyr grunted.

Lucy warmed her hands on the lopsided tin mug. She gazed down into her cup. The liquid was black, with flecks of tea leaves floating on the surface.
This doesn’t look very appetizing
, she thought.

Mack stood and went to the thick-glassed window on the cabin’s northern wall, peering through sheets of rain in the direction of the Dark Sea. “Still can’t see much through this downpour,” he reported as a flash of lightning lit up the sky.

The map had grown warm in Lucy’s pocket, so she slipped it out and held it beneath the table. Somehow, it brought her a sense of comfort.

Through the rumble of thunder that trailed the lightning, a different noise became perceptible.
Thump. Thump. Thump
. Lucy glanced around the table. The others perked up—they heard it, too.

“What was that?” she tightened her grip on the map beneath the table.

“What was what?” Rhys replied, hopping to his hoofed feet and grabbing a dish rag off the kitchen counter, busying himself wiping the round wooden tabletop. He bumped mugs and the solitary tall, lumpy candlestick as he scrubbed the grimy rag across the table.

“That thudding noise during the thunder—didn’t you hear it?” Cadmus’ eyes narrowed.

“You’re not used to storms. It was probably your imagination,” the satyr snapped.

“But I heard it too,” Luke protested. “It was a thumping noise.”

Rhys whipped around to face Luke. “Well I didn’t hear it, so what do you want me to do?” he barked. Cadmus glanced at Lucy, raising his eyebrows in surprise. There was a momentary silence.

“You seem pretty rattled, Rhys. Is everything okay?” Lucy watched him, waiting for his reply.

“Yes, yes, everything’s fine,” he spat, exasperated. “Let’s just finish our conversation about the whorl before I decide I need something stronger than this tea to drink.” He squatted back onto his stool. A dribble of sweat snaked its way down his temple and buried itself in his bushy eyebrow.

Mack and Luke exchanged a look of surprise, and then raised their eyebrows at their sister. Lucy shrugged.

“Like Cad was saying,” Rhys began, nudging Cadmus with his elbow, “the whorl also formed back during the era of the fifteenth Mapkeeper. It grew so large that it swallowed up the creatures of the sea. Everything on and under the sea was sucked into its vortex and thrust into the depths. Ships, too.” He shuddered, clasping his mug. “This added to the chaos in Praxis. See, some clans rely on fish from the Dark Sea as a source of sustenance. The humans and elves are skilled fishers and if they snare a big enough load, they trade with the gnomes and centaurs for spices, roots and vegetables, or other useful items.”

Lucy pressed the folded map against her thigh, savoring its warmth. The rumble of distant thunder heightened the ominous tone of Rhys’ tale.

Luke stood to take a closer look at a high wooden shelf, upon which were perched numerous vials and bottles. Purple, green, and clear liquids, mysterious powders, miniscule bone fragments, slimy eel eggs, rotten pumpkin seeds, and dozens of other bizarre supplies filled the mismatched glass vessels. Faded labels, each in some stage of peeling away, identified the contents of each container.

“What’s all this stuff?” Luke crossed his arms as he squinted to read the labels, fascinated by the collection.

“Those,” Rhys boasted, “are the stock of an alchemist-extraordinaire. I mix Praxis’ highest quality draughts, tonics, and poultices. Among my supplies you will find exotic ingredients like tongue of boar, limproot, snagglemarrow powder, sclera juice, shadow moss, and lizard oil.”

“No horn of unicorn, I hope?” Cadmus cocked his head.

“Of course not, that’s illegal,” Rhys scoffed, shifting in his seat. “Everyone knows that.”

The thumping noise returned. The three muffled thuds seemed to emanate from somewhere within—or was it beneath the cabin? All four guests glanced at one another, their curiosity obvious.

“Rhys, there it is ag—” Cadmus began.

Rhys leapt from his stool in agitation. “The rain let up. It’s time for you to move on.” The satyr corralled them out of his cabin. “Mind your own business for once, Cadmus. I’m sure you all have important things to take care of, and I have matters of my own to attend to.” He ushered them to the door and shoved them outside into the lazy post-storm drizzle.

Luke hesitated, the last one to leave the cabin. Lucy glanced back and thought she saw him saying something to Rhys as she was rushed into the carriage by her guards. Rhys’ beady eyes shifted to meet hers, and he waved Luke away, slamming the door behind him.

They skirted Glacial Lake on their way to Doldrums Forest. Lucy peered through the gray light at the large, dark body of water. She could make out Rhys’ hut on the ridge across the lake. She wondered if he was watching them—
what business did he have to attend to?
His strange behavior baffled her.

“There are mermaids in the lake,” Cadmus noted, gazing out the window.

“Are they peaceful?” Luke asked.

“They prefer to be left alone. They want no part in the affairs of land creatures, and they don’t take well to being disturbed. But in my research, I did find notes mentioning the interactions of several past Mapkeepers with the mermaid queen. She was said to be reasonable enough. She is the oldest of all the mermaids—at least two thousand years old by my estimate.”

“Did she help them?” Lucy asked.

“In one instance that I found, yes. A massive flood threatened to wash out the entire valley and the eighteenth Mapkeeper went to the mermaid queen for help. It was in the mermaids’ best interest to preserve Glacial Lake because the flood was devastating their fragile underwater ecosystem. It had rained for a month straight and was showing no sign of letting up. The Tree of Virtue was a third of the way swamped by floodwater, and the creatures of Doldrums Forest were running for higher ground, encroaching on the territories of the trolls and goblins.

“The mermaids are rumored to hold special powers over the weather. The queen mermaid saturated the map with a fair weather blessing and the Mapkeeper released it into the skies. The rain stopped, and over time, excess floodwater dried, returning Praxis to its natural balance.”

“She saturated the map with a blessing?” Lucy scratched her head, fascinated.

“The record I dug up in the archives said that she was able to somehow transfer her blessing to the map. I’ve deduced that as a magical object, the map is capable of receiving and storing both blessings and curses. The caveat is that only the Mapkeeper has the ability to release those blessings or curses. Of course, the map has also been known to generate its own magic.”

Lucy gazed out the window, allowing her mind to drift as she stared at the dreary, rain-soaked valley. She hoped wild storms like the one that passed through today wouldn’t become a regular occurrence. She didn’t care to meet the mermaid queen if she didn’t have to.

Doldrums Forest materialized through the mist ahead of the carriage, shadowy and thick. The dirt road they followed continued into the forest, but narrowed as it breached the trees. The guards who accompanied them on horseback had to fall in ahead of and behind them as there was no longer space for them to ride abreast the carriage.

They entered the forest and were engulfed by trees on all sides. Strange squawks and hoots echoed through the dark, hollow spaces between the tall trunks. The forest air was colder, shaded beneath the high leafy canopy. Mack leaned against his window and peered up.

“These trees are massive.”

“Doldrums Forest has thrived for many centuries. A large part of it burned in the Great Fire about eight hundred years ago, but over time it regrew and expanded.”

“What lives here?” Luke asked.

Lucy ignored the eerie sensation that from somewhere in the darkness, they were being watched. A chill ran down her arms and she rubbed the goosebumps away.

“The elves and the centaur clans live deep in the woods. Kobolds are mischievous little creatures that play tricks on travelers and wanderers. They are good-natured, though, and will come to the aid of someone in need. There are unicorns within the woods, but they are very rare. I have never seen one. People try to avoid the forest as much as possible. It’s not… safe,” he revealed, his eyes narrowing.

Lucy frowned and watched tree trunks pass as they drove deeper into the forest.

“Do the guards know where to find Zadok?” Luke asked, uneasy.

“The centaurs’ residence is a large cavern called Abodox. I told the guards to take us there. It shouldn’t be much farther now,” Cadmus replied with a grim smile.

Just then, the carriage jerked to a rough stop. One of the guards’ horses behind them let out a sharp whinny.

“What’s going on?” Lucy tensed, clenching her fists.

“Everyone get down!” Cadmus ordered. “Stay low, and keep quiet.” He leaned to peer out the carriage window. A sudden chill seeped into the carriage, permeating Lucy’s bones. Her heart pounded as she crouched on the carriage floor, crammed between Mack and the sideboard. Cadmus’ arm rested against her back. Despite her alarm, his touch was reassuring. She focused on keeping her breathing steady and quiet.

“Do you see anything?” Mack whispered to Cadmus.

“I don’t see any of the guards…” he trailed off. His face went pale. “Who’s driving the carriage?” he wondered aloud as he threw the carriage door open and jumped out.

“Cadmus! Don’t—” Lucy started to reach for him but he had already slammed the door behind him. A tense moment later, the carriage leapt forward. The Barnes siblings scrambled back onto the bench seats and looked out the windows. Lucy’s heart caught in her throat and a numb void of terror materialized in her stomach when she saw what was outside. They sped past the bloody carcasses of three guards and their horses. The guards had been beheaded.

“Ahh!” Lucy looked away, crying out in disgust and sorrow. Mack put an arm around her and hugged her against his side. The image of a bloodless face, dull eyes, and a mouth hanging wide open burned in her mind’s eye.

“Who would do this?” Luke cried in revulsion, his eyes wide with horror and face pale as a sheet.

Lucy steeled herself, physically bracing to force the nausea back down into the depths of her abdomen. She peered out the window again, this time paying close attention to their surroundings. In the deepest recesses of the woods, almost out of sight through the thicket, she thought she glimpsed three figures in long, black-hooded robes.

“There! Way back in the forest, do you see those things in dark robes?” She pointed.

Mack leaned past her, but they were going too fast. They flew through the forest, leaving the gruesome scene behind. A shiver ran down her spine. An instant after she’d seen the hooded figures, they were gone.