David Wells - Cursed Bones

“I’m going to look in on Isabel,” he said, “maybe have a look around the Seven Isles while I’m at it. I’ll probably be a while.”

“If you have a chance, could you see how Abigail’s doing?” Jack asked.

Alexander nodded with a smile, then laid back and closed his eyes. It took some time to overcome the dull throbbing pain in his leg, but eventually he was adrift on the firmament. It seemed different somehow, more familiar.

With a thought, he was floating in the cabin of a ship at sea. Isabel was sleeping fitfully in the bunk. For several moments, Alexander just watched her sleep, grateful that she was all right but saddened that she felt it necessary to leave his side. He still didn’t quite understand. They belonged together; she knew that as well as he did.

He slipped into her dreams and found himself in his Wizard’s Den, watching Isabel stand over his restless body. She was dreaming of the night she’d left. Her eyes were vacant and distant, her hands held a dagger raised over his heart. She brought the dagger a few inches higher, preparing to strike, and then she stabbed down, hard. Just before it plunged into his heart, she woke, ejecting Alexander from her mind.

He found himself floating in the cabin once again, watching her in the darkness as she cried herself back to sleep. He felt so helpless. She was all alone and Phane’s magic was claiming her free will. He could only imagine how scared she must be, but he was coming to understand her decision to leave. He tried to put himself in her position, asking himself what he would do to protect her under similar circumstances. She’d done the only thing she could have. That left him with the question of where she was headed.

He rose up through the ship, high into the sky, until he recognized the shape of the island she was sailing toward. The shock of it was so intense that he snapped back to his body and sat up with a gasp. Pain from his wound stabbed into his leg, causing him to gasp again. Then he gently lay back down, focusing on his breathing until the agony subsided.

Jack was lying on the next bed over, staring at the ceiling. He turned to Alexander but said nothing.

“She’s going to Karth,” Alexander said quietly. “I wish I knew why.”

“I can think of two possibilities,” Jack said. “Neither is going to be easy to hear.”

Alexander turned to Jack, frowning.

“Either she’s under Phane’s power or she’s going to try to kill him,” Jack said.

Alexander sighed, nodding. “I don’t think he has control of her yet, but I saw her dream-it won’t be long before he does.”

“I’m sorry, Alexander,” Jack said.

“Me too.”

He closed his eyes and focused his mind. He knew where she was and that she was safe, that was enough for now. Several moments later he was floating on the firmament again. This time he thought of Abigail and found himself over a vast army on the march. They were escorting thousands of refugees toward FellendenCity. Abigail looked anxious but well enough. Anatoly was riding next to her.

With a flick of his mind he was at the ruined shipyards. They’d been totally burned to the ground. Huge burial mounds marked with Reishi, Ruathan, Ithilian, and Fellenden banners gave silent testimony to the losses she’d sustained. The thousands of barbarians scattered haphazardly across the battlefield, left for the scavengers to pick at, gave Alexander some measure of hope that Zuhl’s horde, while formidable, wasn’t invincible.

Next, he visited Blackstone Keep. He was alarmed to see people carrying lanterns for light. The magic of the Keep was failing, and quickly. Without its protections, it was just stone, easily destroyed by magic.

Alexander went to his message board and saw two messages. The first confirmed his fears. It read, “Keep’s magic is failing.” The second read, “Stalemate in Buckwold-Phane’s forces growing slowly.”

Alexander found Kelvin in his workshop. The large room was lit with a number of brightly glowing stones suspended from the ceiling by string. He was busy creating more of the glow stones, presumably for use by others within the Keep.

With a flick of his mind, Alexander was in Buckwold. His father’s men had built a formidable-looking berm wall that stretched from the ocean to the foothills of the Pinnacles. It looked sufficient to blunt the initial assault of the Lancers, but it probably wouldn’t hold for long once the enemy decided to attack. He thought of Warrenton and the world flickered by for an instant, then he was over the captured city. Lancers were camped all around its walls, and ships flying the Andalian banner were docked in port. Phane was managing to get some of his men through the blockade. A closer look revealed that two wizards stood guard atop towers overlooking the port. Any attack by the Sky Knights would be met with significant resistance.

Next, he went to CrescentBay. Zuhl had his seven enormous ships docked in his port and was busy finishing construction of his fleet. Ice floes were already blocking passage into or out of the port, so Alexander breathed a sigh of relief. Zuhl would be unable to move troops until the spring thaw. At least he had time.

He opened his blind eyes and looked to Jack with a smile.

“Abigail is well. She’s marching toward FellendenCity, and the shipyard is destroyed.”

“Thank you, Alexander,” Jack said. “I’ve been worried about her.”

Alexander stopped, frowning in puzzlement as the sensation came over him again.

“Bragador and Anja are coming,” he said.

Jack looked at him quizzically, then at the door. Several moments later, Bragador entered, trailing Anja behind her.

“Hello Alexander, I’m glad you’re awake,” Bragador said.

“Please, come in,” he said, motioning to a chair.

“Thank you,” she said, drawing the chair closer to his bed. Anja put her chin on the foot of his bed, looking at him with her big, golden, catlike eyes. “As I understand it, your wife has left. Had we known of your ship, we could have stopped her.”

“I know, but it’s probably best you didn’t,” Alexander said. “She’s succumbing to Phane’s magic.” He stopped, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bragador said. “We tried to find the pirates who stole the keystone, but they slipped past us in the night, no doubt with the aid of magic. It seems that Phane will have his prize.”

“That leaves only one keystone,” Alexander said, “and I think I know who has it.”

“Perhaps we could be of some assistance in that regard.”

“I thought you didn’t want to get involved,” he said.

“We don’t,” Bragador said, “but it may be necessary. If what you say about this Nether Gate is true, then it cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. And the fact that Phane sent his agents to steal from us is incentive enough to work against him.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“If you’ll tell me where the final keystone is, I will send a dragon to retrieve it.”

“As I said, I think I know where it is, but I can’t be sure,” Alexander said. “I believe the Princess of Fellenden is attempting to take it to Ithilian. She’s not the enemy, but the man she’s traveling with may be. My magic tells me he’s evil, but I don’t think Lacy is aware of his true purpose.”

“Where can we find them?”

“They were in the south of Fellenden when last I looked,” Alexander said, “but they could be anywhere by now. I’ll have to look again.”

“I’ll wait,” Bragador said. “We’re anxious to rectify the situation.”

Alexander closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It took several minutes before he was free of his body again. He thought of the young woman with strawberry-blond hair and his awareness coalesced in the hold of a ship. She was sitting on a pallet in the brig with a thin, raggedy-looking blanket wrapped around her and looking miserable. Alarm coursed through Alexander as he took in the scene. She was a prisoner and she was wounded.