Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen (45 page)

“The magic of the gods won’t work here,” Setsuna explained. “We are in the dragon’s realm now.”

“So, what’s holding us up?” Ryin asked, peering over the side and looking at the crystals mounted along the longboat’s keel.

“Void magic does not come from our gods,” Setsuna said ominously. “It is one of the ancient magics that existed long before this world was created.”

“So, you knew the Stonemasters were using void magic?” Athel accused her with the question.

“Of course I knew,” Setsuna chuckled. “I’m a Guild Master, for grub’s sake. Information is a commodity to steal and sell just like any other.”

“What else do you know?” Athel asked.

Setsuna looked at her sidelong. “Why should I tell you?”

“Because we're trying to save people and land. Real lives are at stake. You'd be helping a great cause.”

Setsuna laughed and covered her face. “You...are just so naïve, it hurts. To someone as well-traveled as myself, it is almost unbearable to listen to you talk. Do you really think I’d be moved by the righteousness of your cause? Come to me with an offer next time.”

“Fine, then, what do you want?”

Setsuna took out her compact and checked her makeup. “You won’t go for it.”

“Try me.”

Setsuna licked her lips and snapped the compact shut. “Okay, then, I want a date with Privet.

“A what?” Athel asked, her eyes growing huge.

“Yep, I wanna be courted. Dinner, a show, flowers, the whole cartload.”

“Out of the question,” Athel insisted, crossing her arms. “I’d never agree to that.”

“So much for the righteous cause, eh?” Setsuna pointed out. With a delicious smile on her lips, she watched Athel wrestle with herself. The importance of her quest on one side, and her distaste for the price on the other.

“Always the mercenary,” Athel said.

“I’m sorry, what part of ‘pirate’ did you not understand? Because I’d be happy to explain it to you sometime.”

Athel sniffed and turned away from Setsuna. Setsuna turned away from Athel and began chewing on the tip of one of her pigtails crossly.

As they passed the giant totems, Athel could not shake the sensation that they were watching her. Tired of it blowing about in her face, she gathered her long, auburn hair into a pony tail.

Being around these enormous faces made her feel very small, little more than a puppet at the mercy of powers too large and great for her to comprehend, let alone challenge.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Athel finally allowed herself to feel sad.

No, it’s not the totems making me feel this way. It’s returning to Wysteria. I feel like I am going to a funeral.

From behind, Athel felt Alder wrap his bony little arms around her. She closed her eyes and allowed the comforting sensation to wash over her. Without saying a word, he knew exactly how to talk to her. It wasn’t the same as speaking through the trees, but at times like this, it sure felt close to it. Alder kissed her gently on the neck. It was surprisingly bold for him, but she didn’t complain. It felt right; it felt good. It felt like home.

“Over there, portside,” Setsuna pointed with her good arm. Amid the rocky shapes, they came up to a flattened stone tablet, as if one of the totems had been sawn off to nothing more than a rocky nub poking out of the ground. On top of the tablet were hundreds of crates, lined up and neatly arranged. They were unlabeled, and otherwise unremarkable, save for the strangeness of seeing them sitting there neatly in the middle of nowhere with no other living thing in sight.

“Wow, that’s a really big one,” Setsuna praised as Captain Evere used a third sculling oar to guide them to ground level. “It looks like none of the other Guilds have been picking up their shipments.”

“I’m not surprised,” Ryin chuckled. “They're probably all knee-deep in rum, food, and salty wenches.”

“And big, hunky men who know how to give a perfect deep-tissue massage,” Setsuna cooed, half-closing her eyes.

Ryin and Setsuna sighed dreamily in unison.

“How many crates would you normally come across?” Captain Evere asked, looking around.

Setsuna snapped herself out of her daydream. “Usually only three. What they give us is concentrated, so we cut it with sugar.”

Mina whistled as they came to a stop, “So, this really is an enormous amount of ruper spice.”

The longboat came to a stop and they climbed out before the crates.

“I find it hard to believe that there is no one here to even watch over it,” Privet said as he trained his rifle about, looking through the scope for any sign of movement.

Setsuna walked up to a crate and ran a manicured fingernail over it. “In all the years I’ve come here, I never saw a soul.”

“This place feels creepy,” Margaret said, hiding behind Hanner.

Setsuna snickered. “I posted some scouts just over there to watch the platform at one point, and they never saw anything. I don’t know how the spice gets here, or where it comes from.”

“That’s smart of them,” Captain Evere praised as he looked around through the mist, his rifle readied. “By keeping everyone in the dark, they protect themselves from being betrayed.”

“So, what do we do with it all?” Ryin asked, looking the stacks over.

“We burn it,” Alder said, surprisingly firm, for him.

“With what?” Ryin asked, looking around.

“We can use the wood from the crates themselves,” Privet suggested.

Ryin pulled out a crowbar from the longboat, while Hanner used his fists and teeth. As the crates were dismantled, the sealed clay jars containing the spice were revealed.

Privet picked one up and looked it over. “You know, it’s funny,” he mused. “All those years I investigated and arrested spice use, but it was just a banned substance to me, not all that important, just a line that had been crossed. A law that had been broken, you know? To think that this stuff was actually designed to suck out the souls of the people it killed... Now, I look at this stuff and it makes me sick to my stomach.”

Loose wood was gathered together and built up into a lean-to. Hanner snapped his fingers, but no flame was produced. “What the...oh, right,” he said, abashed.

“I believe I may be of assistance,” Alder said, enjoying the role reversal as he pulled out his tinderbox and got to work. Within a few minutes Alder had a good, hot, rolling fire going, and the ruper spice was thrown in. It didn’t so much burn as it came apart; heat and flame separating the dark magic from the base materials and sending it spiraling upwards in bleak, purple wisps. Alder seemed particularly motivated, tossing in the clay jars two and three at a time.

When the last of the jars had been burned, everyone looked around to double check. That is when they noticed Setsuna, loading a pair of the jars into the longboat.

“What do you think you are doing?” Athel asked as she ran up.

“I’m just taking my share,” Setsuna hedged. “Not a big deal.”

“We're burning them all,” Athel insisted.

Setsuna stared at her. “Are you crazy? The spice market is about to collapse completely. Do you know what that means? That means that these two little jars are about to become the most valuable thing in the realm.”

Alder stepped up and looked at the jars with contempt. “You would sell them? Even after learning how evil they are? Even after all the wealth you've already acquired?”

“Some things can’t be bought with just money,” Setsuna explained. “Think of all the addicts who will come clamoring for this stuff. And not just poor folks, either. Royal family members, people with pull. They'll do anything to get more. Literally, anything. Think of what you could do with power like that!”

Alder stepped closer to her, shaking with anger. “You can’t treat them like that! They are people.”

“Pffft! It’s their fault for getting addicted to the stuff in the first place.”

There was a sound like a whip cracking. It took everyone a second to realize what had happened, and once they did, they couldn’t believe what they had seen. Setsuna’s expression, a mixture of confusion and shock as her head twisted to one side. Alder’s expression of complete indignation as his open hand sailed through the air.

He had slapped her square in the face.

Alder scooped up the pair of clay jars and ran over to the fire, tossing them in as quickly as he could.

“When did he become interesting?” Setsuna asked as she watched him.

“His mother was a spice-addict,” Athel shared. “She used it while she carried him. That’s why he is so sickly all the time.”

Athel walked away, and over to Alder. “And I’m not going to let him apologize to you,” she called over her shoulder.

“No, it’s okay, I deserved that one,” Setsuna mumbled, rubbing her cheek. She watched curiously as Athel sat down next to Alder. Her hand around his shoulder; they quietly spoke to one another. Setsuna strained to hear them with her long, pointed ears. She could not make out the words, but she could see the effect. He took strength from her, just as she took strength from him. She held him up, just as he held her up.

The others walked away, leaving Setsuna sitting by herself.

“I've been thinking about what you said,” Privet began from where he sat, cleaning his rifle.

“That’s very dangerous, I wouldn’t recommend it,” Setsuna teased.

“Maybe you are right,” he admitted. “Maybe with Athel, I would never be an equal.” Privet stood up and walked past her, stopping just as they were alongside each other. “But I would always have her loyalty. Tell me, Setsuna, have you ever been loyal to anyone but yourself?”

Setsuna didn’t answer.

“I thought so.” Privet slung his rifle over his shoulder and headed into the mist, leaving her alone. Rounding a rocky column, Privet leaned back and looked up. The morning sun was high in the sky now, but the mist still clung tenaciously to this cold place. Everything was so quiet here. No birds sang, and no insects chirped. It was like looking at a landscape painting. For all its beauty, it lacked life, everything in a deathly silence.

A shadow passed over him. Thinking it the longboat, he looked up and found only empty skies where something should have been. Scanning around him he saw the shadow, now looping back. Something in the back of his mind realized that whatever it was, it must be moving at incredible speed. With a shrug of the shoulder and a flick of the wrist, his rifle was in hand and ready to fire. Turning around, eyes trained aloft, he caught a glimpse of something as it rounded the pillar of purple smoke rising up from their bonfire.

“Dragon!” Privert yelled as he ran back towards the longboat. Everyones’ heads came up, like a colony of prairie dogs. They all had the same expression, a mix of “are you serious?” and “we are screwed.”

Looking skyward, they caught a glimpse of it. Enormous pumping wings, long tail and neck; every inch covered in scales that shimmered like polished sapphires.

“Look out!”

And then it was too late. A blast of fire blew up the burning crates, sending debris in all directions. Athel and Alder, who had been closest to the explosion, were thrown back, end over end, until they collided with the windward side of a hill and skipped across the earth like ragdolls.

Mina spun her arms around like a windmill, attempting to release a spell, but nothing came out. As the dragon came back around, Privet took a shot at it with his rifle. As if it sensed his intention, the great, glistening beast dipped its head down and the body followed, diving to within a dozen feet of the ground, then pulling up again. Despite its size, it was impossibly agile. It was larger than a house but moved like a hummingbird.

Now only a few feet above them, the downdraft from its great wings felt like a hurricane, knocking Margaret and Mina to the ground. Hanner fired his volley gun. The lead balls bounced off the dragon’s scales as if they were no more than grains of sand.

“Don’t shoot at it!” Setsuna called out. “This is the edge of their territory, its considered neutral ground!”

Landing before the longboat, the dragon turned to face Privet. Up this close, he could see the sapphire-like scales flex and slide along each other as it moved. Occasionally, a line of scales would separate enough to reveal a glimmer of the fire within. The creature had no eyes. Rather, it had eye sockets in its armored skin that revealed its molten innards. It was unlike any fire Privet had ever seen. It contained many colors. Blues, greens, purples, oranges, and yellows. The effect was prismatic as it escaped through the eye holes, giving the impression of long eyebrows made of flames. More fire escaped from the dragon’s nostrils, trailing away from its face like a long flowing mustache.

The dragon opened its mouth, allowing Privet to see down into its gullet, filled with that same multi-colored fire. It was as if the dragon’s body was an armored suit, worn atop the creature’s fiery true form. He felt he could almost see all the way though, to the tip of its tail; only the faintest outline of bones and organs existed among the internal flame.

Privet had never seen a dragon before, but he knew what was about to happen. The beast inhaled deeply, its broad muscular chest bulging out; prismatic fire building up in its maw. Privet willed his body to move, but it would not. As if in slow motion, he could see Athel and Captain Evere running towards him, calling out to him, with arms outstretched. Their voices felt distorted...distant.

Privet could not take his eyes away from the fire.

The beast’s head snapped forward and shifting flame beat out towards him and the longboat. One last time, he screamed at his body to move, but it would not move. All he could do was look into the flame. I was like witnessing pure beauty, as if all the varied and different kinds of brilliance were wrapped and folded up within one another.

Just as the flames reached him, he was tackled to one side. Privet hit the ground and rolled clear of the attack. His savior cried out in pain where the flame had scorched her back.

“Setsuna?” Privet wondered aloud as a green pigtail settled across his cheek. The dragon-fire hit the longboat. Rather than burning it, the boat simply came apart. Grain by grain, the metal, wood, and crystals dissolved and evaporated into nothing. When it ended, there was nothing left but a deep channel in the earth, as if the hand of a god had scooped it clear out of existence.