Chapter 11
OFF TO SEE THE KING
Mounted on colorful horses, the soldiers encircled us, a moving wall meant to discourage flight. We journeyed through the forest. The same woodland I’d trekked before, yet nothing was as I remembered.
Before, it was a place of towering giants, with canopies woven so thick that thin, golden ribbons of sunlight had filtered through the leaves like falling glitter. Now, beyond the sweet oasis where Jasher and I had arrived, only ruins remained.
Thick smoke cloaked the sky, the woods beneath a skeletal husk. Blackened branches appeared to claw air with every bluster of wind, as if the trees attempted to drag themselves from the destruction. Insects and critters that once hummed and buzzed were now silent.
On a boulder, seemingly painted in blood, was an ominous poem that reminded me of my nonsense note. Foxes in need dream. Hills eat rain.
No wonder tension held the soldiers in a vise grip. It held me, too, especially when a lone bird with three eyes and patchy rainbow feathers landed upon a gnarled limb to watch our procession.
A spy. Rainbow birds reported to Ian. The monstra—Jasher—understood their chirps too.
But speak up? No. Our guards were jittery enough.
They might use the bird as an excuse to attack Jasher.
Also, I wasn’t at my best. My wound throbbed.
I was operating on empty and soon to face my parents.
But use my serpens-rosa? No. This wasn’t life or death.
“Why did the monstra do this?” I motioned to the wasteland. Before, they’d left the forest alone. “What does the poem mean?”
Captain Rourke frowned at me, all where have you been?
“Living in the future,” I reminded him.
Hope reignited, a light shining across his features. “The poem is, we think, some kind of code. It’s painted in numerous places.”
The note I’d written myself. Kangaroos blah, blah, blah. Could it be some kind of code, too?
“Upon erupting from the mountains, the hordes—” he continued.
Curses rose among the others, many men glowering at Jasher, as if he’d been there.
The winged executioner kept pace at my side, unbothered by the accusations.
“—came in a storm, unleashing destruction before seeming to vanish into thin air,” Captain Rourke continued.
“Anytime we rebuild, they reappear en masse. Small groups resurface periodically to remind us of their presence. Mostly when it rains, sometimes when it doesn’t.
” He paused, as if measuring his next words.
“If you tell us how to destroy them, we can save the kingdom.”
“I’ll speak of what I saw only to the king.” Safer that way. No telling who secretly aligned with Ian.
The captain opened his mouth, perhaps to protest or press, but thunder boomed. Tension intensified throughout the group. A storm brewed.
Were the monstra soon to attack?
Captain Rourke opened his mouth again, but Jasher’s axes reappeared on his back. Everyone noticed. Protests rang out.
“Do not do this again, Oracle.” The captain confiscated the blades—and Jasher let him.
“Me?” I sputtered. “I did nothing!”
We continued on, the storm building, tensions still amplifying. Even within me. I wasn’t battle-ready.
“Are the monstra coming?” I asked Jasher at low volume. “Will you morph further or turn to metal?”
Another crack of thunder. Lightning split the sky. The soldiers prepared their blades.
Jasher kept his focus straight ahead. “We’ll find out together about the metal. But the monstra aren’t a threat right now. It’s the lions and flying monkeys you should fear.”
Ugh. I remembered them. I’d never seen the creatures in action, and I didn’t want to. The lions were the size of housecats, and the monkeys were comparable to Tinkerbell, but they had inspired dread in all Hakeldamians.
Finally, the storm broke, pelting us with showers of icy rain. Our group sped up, racing across fields.
My teeth should’ve chattered, but the wet chill didn’t bother me. I actually loved the droplets. Loved how they tapped against my skin, quickly absorbing.
Jasher wasn’t so adaptable. He scowled as droplets slapped at his cheeks.
I dug my pointy black hat from the pack and planted it on his head. The rim protected his face and shoulders.
He didn’t glance my way. “You should tend to yourself, princess.”
“Hi, I’m Kevin, your unemotional support companion.” The toy’s muffled, monotone voice beat me to a response. “Press my buttons for a giggle.”
Groaning, I lifted the little horror from the confines of the bag. Raindrops splashed over it. Was his smile more unhinged? “Why would I give this to myself? He doesn’t even have buttons.”
“I’m proud of you. And that surprises me,” Kevin announced, still monotone. “Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha. Kevin made a funny.”
Jasher snickered, the storm forgotten. “Kevin is a treasure, that’s why.”
“Kevin is annoying,” I muttered. To the bottom of the pack he went. Zip.
“Shhh, he’ll hear you.” Jasher leaned closer, eyes glittering. “We don’t want him running away like your chicken, do we?”
Was he…teasing me? Heart jumping, I gave a mock hmph. “Yes, well, Cluck Cluck is working through some issues. Obviously.”
He snorted, and I beamed. I did that. Me.
The storm ended as quickly as it had started. While the others remained cold and wet, I dried off in seconds. “I’ll never get tired of this particular perk.”
Jasher’s wing brushed my uninjured side, practically a caress. “I’ll make a bargain with you. Rye.” He spoke softly, for my ears alone. “You tell no one my name, and I’ll tell no one yours.”
I arched a brow and replied in the same low volume. “You’ll keep a secret from the Guardian, without being compelled?” Or would he spill to Ian at the first opportunity? Not just my name, but the time loops. The Ember. My family ties.
He could ruin everything.
Hello, complications. I white-knuckled the strap of the backpack.
“The Guardian,” Jasher grated, “will find young me. What he’ll do with him—me—I don’t know.”
Oooh. He wasn’t interested in a bargain, I realized. Not really. He wanted a command, just in case Ian attempted to wield his influence to pry information from him. A move to spare young Jasher from retaliation or scrutiny. Current Jasher just didn’t want to admit it.
And how badly did I want to meet young Jasher?
Still at low volume, I stated, “I refuse to bargain about this, Tinman. I forbid you from telling anyone anything. About me. About you. About our situation.”
I expected more taunts about enjoying my power a little too much, despite his almost-admission, but he dipped his chin in a gesture of… thanks?
“From this point on, I ask that you both remain quiet,” Captain Rourke said, on alert. He darted his gaze as if he expected an attack at any moment. “Because of the storm, monstra might be in the area. Noise attracts them.”
I nodded my agreement and looked to Jasher for the same. He was glowering now. He even bared his teeth and extended his middle finger at me.
Okay, so, he was upset that we’d had a moment. Noted.
Over the next several hours, we trekked through charred fields and cut through abandoned villages. Jasher never made a sound. Any animals we came across bolted. Occasionally, Kevin spoke from within the pack.
“I run on gears and poor decisions.”
“I have no advice. Only expert opinions.”
“Confidence level: medium. Battery level: concerning.”
The guards yearned to snatch the toy from my pack and smash it to smithereens, as evidenced by their glares, but no one made a move against me. Or Jasher. I had a feeling he would protect Kev with his life.
Great. I was now jealous of the toy.
We reached a series of burning tar pits, and an idea I couldn’t shake took root. Here might be the best place and means to destroy my father’s journal, removing it from this loop, ensuring Ian couldn’t use it to bring down the royals.
No better idea came. My stomach twisted.
Hating myself, the world, my circumstances, I withdrew the precious book. Held on until the last possible second… then…
No. Don’t do it.
Change requires change.
I dropped it into the flames.
There. It was done, and there was no going back. Ian couldn’t use it against my family, so, win. But dang. I hadn’t even read half of my father’s stories, prompts, and suggestions. Now, I never would.
“Secrets never stay dead,” Jasher intoned softly, earning glares from the men. He didn’t care. “You can glean the information from the one who wrote it.”
He wasn’t wrong, and I appreciated the offer of comfort. When I smiled at him, he pursed his lips.
As the sun set on the horizon, we came to an iron bridge that stretched over a roiling gorge.
“We’re here,” Captain Rourke breathed out.
Relief swept over the soldiers while I battled a jumble of dread and excitement. I might be mere minutes away from meeting my father. Seeing my mother again, now even younger than before.
The bridge led to a wall of smoke so thick I couldn’t see past it—until I could. My jaw dropped as our surroundings gelled. A wall of riveted iron and gold bricks. Countless murder holes and archer slots. Armed guards stood along the top. They even crowded the ground before it.
When shouts of “the monstra has arrived” rang out, it was clear the scout the captain sent ahead had arrived. My dread intensified.
Soldiers readied their weapons, keeping my companion in their sights. Jasher maintained his bored demeanor as I moved closer to act as his shield.
“Your hero complex is getting ridiculous,” he muttered.
Please. “Your supervillain routine is already exhausting. And stop flirting. This is a serious moment.”
He gave the barest snort. His second of the day.
The entrance slowly opened, allowing us to enter without pause. Soldiers cast us menacing looks, not even trying to hide their disdain. I kept my head up.
Strategically positioned within the remains of a once-thriving market stood more armed soldiers. I recognized this spot. I gasped. From my vision. The battlefield where Morris had climbed the hill and Andrea had risen in the sky.
Crumbling wooden stalls with torn, faded canopies lined the cobblestone streets, where weeds sprouted between the cracks.
Rusted lanterns hung from crooked poles, swaying gently in the breeze, casting eerie shadows over long-forgotten wares.
Tattered bolts of silk, broken crates of spices, and shattered dishes were all coated in dust. A sad sight.
Beyond the empty stalls, a great castle rose.
An imposing citadel of stone and steel, with towers piercing the sky and walls reinforced with slanted slats of metal.
In the fading sunlight, its sloped roofs shimmered with shades of silver and blue, reminding me of the scales Jasher developed when he went full monstra.
Catapults loomed atop different tiers, and banners bearing the insignia of King Ahav snapped in the wind. Arrow slits lined various walls.
The City of Lux. Where Ian, known by most only as the Guardian, would one day rule. Though the palace didn’t sit on a mountain. Not yet.
As the soldiers dismounted and passed their horses into the care of stablehands, a heavy weight settled over me.
In minutes, I would stand before King Ahav, my birth father.
To him, I was a stranger. A curiosity coughed up by the tide, able to command a single monster.
No doubt my mother waited somewhere within these walls as well, unaware that the “oracle” she was soon to meet carried her blood.
Trepidation, elation, and terror tangled in my throat as we marched forward.