Richard Tuttle - Island of Darkness

“You mean some of them fled back home?” questioned Ukaro. “Why then did they not embrace us as brothers instead of trying to annihilate us?”

“A thousand years had passed since their exodus from these lands,” explained Marak. “They had no idea what land they were conquering. I doubt they would have acted differently if they had known. They fled in fear.”

“What could cause such fear in mighty warriors?” inquired Tmundo.

“I don’t know,” admitted Marak, “but I felt their fear. Believe me when I say that death was welcomed over whatever other fate awaited them. I have never experienced such fear in my life. It is hard for me to imagine what could cause it, but Kaltara made me feel it.”

“So your desire for the Chula to help the flatlanders is what Kaltara wants as well,” Tmundo said with resignation. “Then let it be so. We will teach your mages what they must know. It will require your help to merge our two civilizations in to one. Do not expect that task to be easy.”

“It will not be easy,” Marak acknowledged. “I will need help every step of the way. The first step is solving the problem of the food supply.”

“I will leave for Omunga from here,” offered Ukaro. “This temple is close to the border. Returning to the village would only waste time.”

“And I will escort the Torak back to the village,” promised Tmundo

Marak did not respond. His mind was still replaying the vivid images that were now a permanent part of his memory. He searched those memories for anything that would help him prepare for the coming invasion.

* * *

“Come in, StarWind,” smiled Lyra. “What do you want?”

“Another message from SunChaser,” reported StarWind as she sat in a chair before the desk. “Larst has ordered his generals to present a plan for conquering the Sakova. I think an invasion is imminent.”

“How could I have been so wrong about him?” fumed the Star of Sakova. “He helped us leave Okata when Alazar was killed. I have met with him several times, and each time I felt the desire to trust him. Where did I let my people down?”

“I am not sure that you have,” sighed the Sakovan spymaster. “SunChaser also reported that many people are surprised by Larst’s change of heart. There are rumors floating around in official circles that Larst is not himself. Of course, these thoughts are expressed in a humorous manner, for to say such a thing seriously would be treason.”

“Is that possible?” questioned Lyra. “If so, who is capable of such a feat?”

“I don’t know if it is possible,” admitted StarWind. “I can only report what I have heard. I can make some inquires about it. I will let you know what I find out.”

“We need to review our plans for resisting an attack by the Omungans,” declared Lyra. “Can you set up a meeting here in the palace? I want everyone’s input.”

“I will see to it,” nodded StarWind. “We have another caravan heading for Alamar. Do you want me to have it turn around?”

Lyra stared at the wall map for several minutes before responding.

“No,” Lyra replied. “Those people are still starving. I will not punish them for the words of politicians in Okata. Make sure that our people with the caravans know about the increased danger. They are to use their own wits if a situation arises. I will not sacrifice Sakovans to feed the Omungans, but short of a direct attack, the caravans will continue.”

“It shall be as you say,” nodded StarWind as she rose and left the office.

* * *

MistyTrail gazed over the water at the setting sun. The surface of the sea was smooth as a finely cut block of stone. She frowned as she looked upward the limp sail hanging around the mast.

“Isn’t there any way to make us go?” she asked Mistake.

“There isn’t enough wind to blow a hair away from your face,” Mistake shook her head. “The other boat had oars to row with, but this one has nothing.”

“I thought you were a sailor,” snapped MistyTrail. “Instead of being in Fakara, we are sitting in the middle of nowhere. Three days we have been on this boat, and there is not a speck of land visible in any direction. We haven’t seen land since we left Omunga. Do you even know where we are?”

“No,” admitted Mistake. “I thought all we had to do was sail northeast until we got to Fakara. Maybe when the wind changed directions it drove us past Fakara.”

“Why didn’t we just follow the coast?” complained MistyTrail. “At least then we would know where the land is. Didn’t you father teach you any navigation?”

“My father taught me nothing,” Mistake spat bitterly. “He died when I was quite young. I never set a foot on his boat. The first boat trip I was ever on was the one from Fakara to Khadora to meet with Lord Marak.”

“You don’t know anything about sailing?” gasped MistyTrail. “We are lost at sea, and you don’t know anything about sailing? What are we going to do?”

“Complaining about it won’t make it any better,” retorted Mistake. “We should conserve our food and water. It will be dark soon. Let’s get some sleep. Maybe the winds will pick up in the morning.”

“Maybe,” countered MistyTrail, “but what direction will they be blowing? We are going to die out here like we should have in the Year of the Storm.”

“At least we will be together this time,” mumbled Mistake as she curled up on the floor of the boat.

* * *

“Have a seat in the laboratory, and I will bring you some food,” Lady Mystic called from the kitchen.

Aakuta moved a chair to the table and swept aside the beakers to clear a spot on the table. He shook his head as he sat down.

“What is all this junk on the table?” he asked as Lady Mystic entered the room with a bowl of soup.

“Experiments,” Lady Mystic replied. “I spend quite a bit of time with this junk, as you call it.”

Her tone left no doubt that she was offended by Aakuta’s description of her experiments as junk.

“Potions and elixirs?” scoffed Aakuta. “I would not think that someone of your intellect would be bothered with such nonsense.”

“Would be bothered?” huffed Lady Mystic. “Don’t go getting boring on me now, Aakuta. Magical power alone is all well and good when you are there to affect the outcome, but what if you are needed in more than one place at the same time?”

“I would rethink my priorities,” shrugged Aakuta. “Not everything is so important that it demands immediate attention.”

“Hmmph,” countered Lady Mystic. “Here is one for you,” she said as she lifted a beaker off the table. “This concoction is very close to replacing the lygrim fruit. I am sure that you have heard of the lygrim? It produces incredible stamina and strength, but it has the penalty of deep sleep after its use. I am refining a recipe that will yield the same benefits without the nasty side effects.”

“Hmm,” mumbled the dark mage.

“And this one,” Lady Mystic continued as she picked up another beaker. “This one will cause the victim’s skin to peel off. It is a most excruciatingly painful death. It’s very good for gaining cooperation of villagers. One example made of its power, and the threat to poison the well with it, and all of a sudden everyone wants to cooperate.”

“Child’s play,” scoffed Aakuta. “I can’t possibly imagine you needing the help of villagers.”

“Well,” sighed Lady Mystic, “how about this one then? Let this liquid mist in a wind of any magnitude, and all of the crops and animals downwind will become diseased. The disease will spread like a forest fire.”

“I think you just have too much time on your hands,” declared Aakuta.

“Could be,” admitted Lady Mystic. “It really has been boring around here lately. I do expect you to liven things up a bit. Perhaps today is the day to introduce you to Vand.”