David Wells - Cursed Bones

“You need to rest,” she said, frowning, “and not the kind of rest where your mind is off wandering around the whole Seven Isles. Lay back and close your eyes. I’ll make you some tea.”

Alexander looked over at Jack, who was sitting at the little table he used for a desk, but all the bard had to offer him was a smile and a shrug. He just nodded and lay back, closing his eyes and resting his mind. There was still so much to do, but he knew that his best chance of success was to pace himself. He wouldn’t do anyone any good if he was too exhausted to use his magic when he needed it.

He spent the rest of the day talking with Anja, or more to the point, answering her seemingly endless questions. She was insatiably curious, her quick mind seizing on any new questions that Alexander’s answers raised. By late evening he was exhausted. Sleep came easily and he woke the following morning with a clear head and a long list of things to do.

First, he went to the site of the cave-in on Karth, carefully approaching the section of collapsed ceiling within the passage, manifesting only as a floating ball of light. What he saw caused him to snap back into his own body and sit bolt upright, breathing heavily.

Along the top corner of the cave-in, where debris filled the corridor the least, was a three-foot-by-three-foot tunnel dug through the dirt and rock, shorn up with pieces of stone pulled from the floor of the Goiri’s crypt and used to form a ceiling and walls for twenty feet.

“She’s alive,” he said when Jack looked up.

“Did you see her?” Jack asked.

“No. But they dug out from under the cave-in. They’re probably trying to escape the island. I need to find her.”

Jack just smiled as Alexander lay back down and cleared his mind. After several failed attempts to find Isabel by focusing on her, Alexander returned to the crypt passage just outside the cave-in and quickly moved his awareness up the passage to the black-and-white room. From there, he followed the passage leading to the ghidora, moving more quickly than any person could run but maintaining clear awareness of his surroundings. Finding the ghidora frozen in place and the remains of Horace where they’d left them, Alexander blinked back to the black-and-white room where he took the passage leading to the crystal chambers.

Floating down the hallway, he saw Isabel a few feet inside the threshold of the chamber beyond. She was saying something to Trajan, but Alexander couldn’t make it out. Once he got within ten feet of Isabel, he suddenly found himself back in his body on Tyr.

“She’s alive and she has the Goiri bone,” Alexander said, sitting up and smiling to himself. Of all the decisions he’d ever made, marrying Isabel was by far the best.

“Impressive,” Jack said. “What’s her plan?”

“I’m afraid she plans to stab Phane,” Alexander said, his smile fading into a frown. “Without magic, she thinks he’ll be vulnerable enough to kill.”

“She could be right,” Jack said.

“I’d rather she didn’t bet her life on it.”

“What would you do in her place?”

Alexander hesitated, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I’d kill Phane.”

“Of course you would, given the chance. Isabel has that chance. And she knows it. More to the point, she’s the one on the battlefield, in harm’s way. Doesn’t it have to be her call?”

“Of course it does, but I don’t have to like it,” Alexander said, lying back and closing his eyes.

It took some time to find the calm necessary to once again escape his body. After a brief conversation with Abigail, he appeared in Lucky’s workshop.

“Ah, there you are,” Lucky said, smiling amiably and getting up from the table and an early lunch. “I’ve prepared the material according to your specifications and I’ve begun to process a second batch.”

“Good. Once you learn the entire process, you’ll need to start production. That means you need a place with better security.”

“Kelvin suggested the same thing,” Lucky said. “We’ve begun construction of a suitable workshop with adjacent quarters in the subbasement of the new Wizard’s Guild Lodge.”

“Remember, only you and Kelvin know this is happening. Keep it that way.”

“Absolutely,” Lucky said. “We are both extraordinarily cautious when discussing this matter.”

“Good, so you have orange-red granules …” Alexander spent several minutes explaining the next few steps, detailing how each step should unfold, how the result should look, what failure looked like and how to recover. When Lucky could recite every step, Alexander said his goodbyes and vanished.

The process of making Wizard’s Dust was long and complex-it would require several more visits with detailed instructions before Lucky learned the entire formula, and even then, the most difficult and delicate parts were yet to come … Lucky would have to apply his magic in just the right way at just the right time. If he failed, the batch would be useless. There was still a long way to go, but they were making good progress.

Alexander lingered on the firmament, listening to the song of creation, but also listening for any hint of Siduri. Memories of his brief encounter with the strange little man intruded into his mind with maddening frequency. The ramifications of his story were terrifying and breathtaking all at once. Alexander couldn’t help but wonder if Siduri was the key to it all, so he searched for him and listened for him and called out to him every time he visited the firmament, but all he ever received in return was silence.

He opened his eyes to find Anja sitting in the chair beside his bed, watching him intently.

“You’re staring,” Alexander said.

“Is that wrong?”

“Not wrong, just impolite.”

“I wanted to make sure I remember what you look like.”

“You’ll remember,” Alexander said, reaching for her hand.

She looked down. “Will you teach me how to fight with a sword?”

“Huh?”

“I want to learn how to fight with a sword.”

“Anja, you’re a dragon, why would you need to fight with a sword?”

She shrugged, shaking her head, still looking down. “I just want to learn.”

“Ask your mother. I’ll teach you if she agrees.”

She smiled excitedly and raced out of the Wizard’s Den, looking for her mother. It wasn’t long before Alexander felt the approach of Bragador just moments before she appeared in the doorway of the Wizard’s Den, Anja trailing behind her.

“May I?”

“Of course, please come in,” Alexander said.

Bragador took the chair next to the bed. Anja stood at her side, struggling not to smile.

“Anja tells me you would teach her to fight with a sword. Is this wise?”

“I don’t see how it’s unwise, even if it is pretty unnecessary.”

“Please, Mother,” Anja said. “I really want to learn.”

“Very well,” Bragador said, “but do not aggravate his injury, Anja.”

“She won’t,” Alexander said. “Jack will play the part of her opponent while I talk them through the steps.”

Jack looked up from his papers, his eyes slightly wider than usual, but he recovered quickly, standing and then bowing with a flourish to Anja. “My Lady, it will be my honor to serve as your practice mannequin.”

Anja giggled. Bragador frowned, but made no move to leave. “Perhaps you should close the door,” she said.

Alexander nodded, willing the door to the Wizard’s Den to close.

“I have word from Tasia. The Regency ship is a week from the northern coast of Karth.”

“I’ve looked at that ship. The shade is aboard and he still has Aedan,” Alexander said, holding Bragador’s gaze. “We don’t have a move right now.”