The Rogue Knight (33 page)

“It was the house of a guy who freaked you out when you were little,” Dalton said. “You would have felt different if you were at your own house.”

“You're probably right,” Cole said, not fully convinced, but not wanting to belabor the issue.

“I don't miss TV either,” Dalton said. “But I miss my family. I miss our neighborhood. Playing soccer. I even miss school.”

“Yeah,” Cole said.

“What if we never get home?” Dalton asked.

“We'll find a way,” Cole said. “At least we know it's possible.”

“We won't give up,” Dalton said. “We'll try everything we can. But what happens if we find Jenna, and the others, and we can't find somebody who can get us home to stay? What if we can't fix this? What if our families won't ever remember us? What if we're stuck here?”

Cole stared at the stars. He had a lot of the same fears. He didn't trust his voice, but he had to say something. “I guess we make the best of it.”

“You're smart to help Mira,” Dalton said. “She's pretty great. Even Jace is a good guy once you get used to him. We're on the right side.”

“True,” Cole said. “I just hope we can survive helping them. We had some close calls the last few days. I hope I didn't lure you to your death.”

“Don't say that. I chose to be here. I was alone, Cole. I hated it. This is way better. I feel like myself again. We're doing the right thing. We have to try.”

“I feel the same way,” Cole said. “It's just freaky.”

“What? Trying to fight some demon lady who can enslave our minds? Getting chased by evil soldiers? It's unbelievably scary. But the only other choice is to give up.”

“Not going to happen.”

“I'm not quitting either. So here we are. Good night, Cole.”

“Good night.”

Despite his comfy naps, the exertions of the day had left Cole weary. He shifted onto his side, pillowed his head on his arm, and tried to sleep.

The following afternoon, their first view of Fog Lake came from a low ridge not far from the shore. They all reined in their horses and gathered together to regard their destination.

The shoreline nearest them meandered along, damp hard mud in some places, pebbles in others, little peninsulas jutting out here and there. The far shore could only be glimpsed in the gray distance. Flat and white, the lake itself was a perfect bowl of motionless mist. No vapor rose higher than the shore, leaving the air above clear, but as far as they could see, no gaps marred the smooth surface.

“Weird,” Dalton said, drawing out the word. “How does it all stay in place? Shouldn't some of the fog float away?”

“All day, every day, for centuries, it has been the same,” Skye said. “I've never seen Fog Lake, but most people in Elloweer know of it. Farther north is the much larger Fog Sea. It marks the northern edge of Elloweer for miles and miles. None have ever crossed it.”

“Do people go into Fog Lake?” Cole asked.

“Callista does,” Spark chirped.

“Not for many years,” Skye said. “The lake lies too close to Trillian to attract many visitors. It was never safe, riddled with unseen pits and other dangers. Superstitions abound about Fog Lake.”

“There are many drop-offs and steep places,” Spark squeaked. “And some mist grifters, but we'll steer clear of them. Callista never has visitors. She'll be so surprised!”

“Will she be angry you led us to her?” Honor asked.

“Not when I have permission from Trillian,” Spark said. “Callista trusts his judgment.”

“What does that say about how much we can trust her?” Dalton grumbled.

“We need information,” Honor said. “Callista was odd but always friendly to our family.”

“Callista is the greatest enchanter in the whole wide world,” Spark said. “I'm sure she'll help you.”

“Lead on, Spark,” Honor said. “We'll follow single file. Keep in mind we don't float, and neither do our horses.”

“I'll get you through,” Spark said. “Dress warmly. People get cold down in the deep places.”

Honor had a cloak, but most of them didn't, so they wrapped up in their blankets. Spark skirted the shore for some distance before turning across a beach of firm mud and heading down into the fog.

Cole watched as Honor and her horse waded into the mist, disturbing it ever so slightly. Mira went next, followed by Jace, then Skye, and then Twitch. Soon Honor was just a head. When she vanished below the surface of the fog, it became still, as if it had never stirred.

“This looks wrong,” Cole said over his shoulder to Dalton as their horses followed the others. “It can't be natural.”

“I wouldn't go in alone for a million bucks,” Dalton replied.

“I'll be right behind you, boys,” encouraged Minimus from his position at the rear.

As Cole's horse walked forward, he sank into the mist. Once below the surface, he could barely see his hands, let alone Twitch's horse in front of him.

“Stay close together,” Honor called, her voice sounding much too distant.

“Are you there, Twitch?” Cole asked.

“Yeah,” Twitch answered, his voice not as far away as Honor's, but farther than it should have sounded. “Keep up.”

“You back there, Dalton?” Cole called.

“I'm coming,” his friend answered.

Cole started focusing on the sound of Twitch's horse. Hopefully, as long as he heard those hooves, he wouldn't wander off an unseen cliff.

The farther they progressed, the grayer the fog became. The still, clammy air was cool and damp. Cole bundled his blanket tighter. Rather than part for him, the mist seemed to cling. Every time he inhaled was like taking a tiny drink. He felt the humidity in his lungs. As they went farther and deeper, the temperature dropped.

The sounds of Twitch's horse grew fainter. “Twitch?” Cole called.

No answer.

“Twitch!” he shouted. His horse jerked beneath him, evidently startled by the yell.

“Cole?” Twitch answered from a great distance up ahead.

“Cole?” Dalton called from far behind, his voice small and worried.

“I think I'm getting lost!” Cole shouted, patting his horse in an effort not to startle it again. He could think of few fates worse than roaming this wet grayness alone. The lake was enormous! Even if his horse didn't walk off an edge, they could get lost permanently. There was no way to get oriented. And what were mist grifters?

“Stay where you are!” Twitch called back, his voice still remote.

“Stay where you are, Dalton!” Cole shouted over his shoulder. He heard Dalton relay the message back to Minimus.

Cole reined in his horse and waited. What if nobody came? Could his horse find its way out by instinct? Could it outrun mist grifters without going over a precipice?

A little ball of light drifted into view.

“Spark?” Cole asked.

“You're closer together than it sounds,” Spark said.

A hand touched Cole's thigh, startling him.

“Hold this rope,” Honor said, her voice a little muffled even though Cole could feel her touch. “It'll keep us together.”

Cole grabbed the rope, clinging harder than was probably necessary. The little ball of light moved back toward Dalton. Before long it returned, drifting forward toward Twitch.

After some time, a tug on the rope informed Cole that they were advancing again. He nudged his horse with his heels, and the animal started walking.

On they plodded, through a hundred darkening shades of gray, drawing ever closer to pitch darkness. Sometimes the way angled down sharply. Sometimes they wound back and forth. Even with the blanket wrapped tight, Cole felt drippy and chilled. The air seemed so moist that he began to wonder if it was possible to drown in vapor. He put a hand over his mouth and breathed through his fingers. Had anyone ever humidified themselves to death?

Finally, the darkness became complete. Cole longed for the white mist up top that at least permitted some vision. As the unseen mist grew denser and colder, Cole questioned how thick mist could become before it turned into a liquid. Water condensed on his face and blanket. Still, Cole supposed that a soaked blanket was better than none.

And then the mist abruptly ended. Still holding the rope, Cole found he was less than a horse length behind Twitch. Dalton came out of the mist right behind him.

Up ahead stood a large cottage made of rounded stones packed together with mud. It had windows and a thatched roof. Glowing globes surrounded it at a distance. Light also shone from the windows.

As Honor and Spark led the group toward the front door, it opened, and a woman emerged. She was of medium height, and kind of bony, with wild blue hair and large earrings that might have been made from turtle shells. She looked to be around sixty, though her hands appeared older than her face.

“Spark, you little rascal, who have you brought to my doorstep?” the woman asked.

“Honor Pemberton and her sister Miracle,” Spark replied. “Along with their companions. They were excellent followers.”

“Now, there's a surprise!” the woman hooted. “My first houseguests in ages, and they're royalty. My home is in quite a state. I wasn't expecting company!”

“Are you the Grand Shaper Callista?” Honor asked.

“That old hag keeled over years ago,” the woman said. “I'm a figment she left behind to mind the house.”

“Oh, no,” Honor said. “I'm sorry to hear it!”

“And I'm sorry to tease you,” the woman said. “I'm Callista all right. It gets lonely when there's nobody to joke with but the figments you invent. People need people, or they start to lose touch, wander down strange paths in their minds. Climb off those horses and come inside. You must be cold and wet.”

“Thank you,” Honor said.

“Don't thank me yet,” Callista cackled. “You haven't seen the place!”

C
HAPTER

 34 

CALLISTA

C
ole felt much better once he was seated by a wide fireplace sipping soup from a mug. The soup didn't have much substance, but the warm broth tasted vaguely like fish. He and the others sat on crates and casks, while Callista swayed in a rocking chair. Little balls of light like Spark hovered around the room. A big, shaggy dog walked up to Cole. He had always wanted a dog, and leaned forward to stroke it, but his hand passed through its intangible body.

“Don't mind Buttons,” Callista told Cole. “He just likes to be part of the conversation.”

“I'm your only conversation most of the time,” Buttons said in a deep voice.

The little balls of light twittered countless outraged protests.

“Unless you include the twinklers,” Buttons added. “Or Gurble.”

“Gurble?” Mira asked.

“Gurble is an ancient figment,” Callista said. “He belonged to many Grand Shapers before me. He holds a lot of knowledge.”

“Gurble is stuffy,” Buttons complained. “Knowledgeable, sure, but about as companionable as a stack of scrolls.”

“I can't get over Trillian sending you to me,” Callista said to Honor. “I'm surprised he let you go once he had you.”

“My sister freed me by winning a contest,” Honor said.

“Yes, I understand, but Trillian gave her the opportunity,” Callista said. “That is not often the case.”

“I think he is worried about Morgassa,” Honor said. “She's a monster who is changing the people of Elloweer into her horde.”

“I'm aware of her, darling,” Callista said. “I'm sure we'll discuss her eventually. But first an important question: How are you all enjoying my soup?”

“It's great, thank you,” Mira said.

“Nice and warm,” Dalton added.

“What is it exactly?” Jace wondered. “It must be tough to find food.”

“It can be difficult,” Callista said. “I have an exquisite mushroom garden. Fungi flourish here. I also harvest several species of edible slime.”

“Don't forget the moths,” Buttons inserted.

Cole fought the urge to gag. What had been in his soup?

“Yes, we have a surprising array of moths,” Callista went on. “And there is a pond not far from here where I collect guppies and other wee beasties. I change them into this and that, depending on my mood. Had I known to expect you, we could have enjoyed a grander meal.”

“What about firewood?” Cole asked, setting aside what remained of his soup.

Callista made a face. “No, dear, firewood tastes terrible.”

Cole laughed. “I mean, where do you find firewood? Do you make it out of mud?”

“This isn't Sambria,” Callista said. “I can't transform nonliving matter. I get my wood as offerings from the mist grifters. They also bring me food from time to time—frogs, birds, and fish, mostly.”

“Why do they bring you firewood?” Jace asked.

“In return for me not slaying them, dear,” Callista said.

“Trillian told us he trained you,” Mira said.

“Then he told you true,” Callista said.

“Isn't he dangerous?” Mira asked.

Callista cackled freely. “I don't know. Buttons, is he dangerous?”

The dog shivered. “He's not my favorite. Leave it at that.”

“Trillian is very dangerous,” Callista said. “So am I. He would not be the right teacher for many. That wily old torivor knows more about shaping than anyone in all five kingdoms. He sees it as one great whole rather than individual disciplines. I would not have discovered most of what I know without his guidance.”

“Weren't you worried he'd keep you there?” Twitch asked.

“No, no, no, my pet,” Callista said. “Had I gone there hoping to leave, he would have never let me go. I went there to learn. I was willing to stay forever if it meant I could learn from the best. He knew my motives. And eventually he released me. I returned to him when I went into hiding. He granted me sanctuary for a time, then suggested I set up a home elsewhere, where I could stay in touch with happenings in Elloweer.”

“This place keeps you in touch?” Jace asked.

“Children,” Callista said, shaking her head. “So candid. It reminds me why I never had any. Who would like dessert?”

Cole tentatively raised his hand. The others sat politely.

Callista pointed at Cole. “That one can stay. If you don't want my hospitality, the fog can have you.” She sweetened her voice. “Once more, who would care for dessert?”

All hands went up.

After tipping back in her rocker, Callista swung forward briskly, catapulting herself to her feet. “Buttons, entertain our guests.” She left the room.

“Okay, she's gone,” Buttons said in a conspiratorial tone. “What do you want to know?”

“She made you?” Dalton asked.

“With the help of three apprentices, all dead,” Buttons said. “She didn't kill them,” he clarified.

“What's for dessert?” Twitch asked.

“I can't say for sure,” Buttons said. “She's improvising. Most of the desserts are slime-based. Don't worry, she changes the slime.”

Changed or not, Cole did not like the idea of eating slime. Dalton read his disgusted expression and scrunched his face in agreement.

“Will she help us?” Mira asked.

“I expect so,” Buttons said. “She doesn't like the High King at all, and she trusts Trillian. Just humor her.”

“I heard that,” Callista said, sweeping back into the room with a platter full of low wooden cups. “It doesn't hurt to humor me, but watch that you don't condescend. I'm eccentric, not daft. Our dessert tonight is sorbet surprise.”

She brought the platter around to her guests. Cole took a cup. Inside was a soft white lump with tiny bits of some herb sprinkled on it. The lump moved as he watched, bulging and shifting. Some of the herbs disappeared into the mass.

“Eat up,” Callista said, settling back into her rocker. “It's best fresh. You don't want it to get away.”

Cole probed the white lump with his spoon. The mass flinched a little. Steeling himself, he scooped up a bite and put it in his mouth. The cool texture was like ice cream. It tasted like minty vanilla with a hint of salt. Not bad. He might have liked it more if he didn't know the main ingredient was slime. Given how attentively Callista was watching everyone, he figured he should eat it all.

“It's quite good, thank you,” Mira said politely.

“I like this one,” Callista said, winking at Mira. “If you all finish your desserts, I may have a surprise for you.”

“I cannot partake,” Minimus apologized.

“Neither can Buttons,” Callista said. “You're forgiven. Now, where were we? Ah, yes, at the bottom of Fog Lake. You were wondering how I keep in touch with the affairs of Elloweer while shrouded in a clammy netherworld. My extended solitude has heightened my perceptions. I have some talent with enchanting, you see, and I can sense the web of power across Elloweer. Pluck a strand, and the whole web shivers. A discerning eye can learn much as the pattern evolves. And should a juicy fly land and become trapped?” She licked her lips. “Ambrosia!”

Buttons cleared his throat. “Metaphorically.”

“I'm trying to find a friend,” Cole said. “A shaper who got sold as a slave.”

“Is this person in Elloweer?”

“One of the other kingdoms,” Cole said.

“Regrettably, my perceptions don't extend beyond the Ellowine borders.”

“You said you know about Morgassa?” Honor asked.

“I have many methods of gathering information,” Callista said. “It helps that I'm an expert with figments. Tell me what you guess about her.”

Mira explained about how Carnag was a manifestation of her powers, and told of their suspicion that Morgassa might be the embodiment of Honor's abilities.

“You know what I miss?” Callista sighed. “Sunlight. I can fake it better than most.”

A brilliant ball of light appeared in the middle of the room, too bright to look at. A moment later it was gone.

Callista scrunched her lips sideways. “There is something about the actual sun in the actual sky that I just can't simulate.” She glanced at Honor. “You're wrong about Morgassa, dear. She is not connected to your power. I can sense where your power goes, and it's not to her.”

“Whoa!” Mira exclaimed.

“Wait,” Honor said. “Then what is Morgassa?”

“She came from a real heavyweight,” Callista said. “I don't know his name, but I felt when he surrendered his ability. It's an odd circumstance. The power came from outside of Elloweer and was changed into Ellowine energy. A nifty trick. Trillian had told me it was possible, but I didn't see how. Now I have an example to study.”

“Brady,” Cole said.

“Was he kept at Blackmont Castle until recently?” Callista asked.

“Yes,” Cole said.

“That would be the one,” she said. “He gave his power away, but a shadow of it remains. They can never really take it all, not while you live, at least. But he'll never be anything like he once was. Talk about power! I wouldn't have tangled with him.”

It was strange for Cole to hear Callista discuss Brady with such respect. He was just a little guy! Of course, that little guy had created a bizarre wilderness full of killer skeletons and enormous toy dinosaurs. His power had been no joke.

“My power connects somewhere else?” Honor asked.

“Surely you've guessed it, my dear,” Callista said. “It couldn't be more obvious.”

“I don't know,” Honor said.

“You have one of his minions in your midst,” Callista said. “Your power produced the Rogue Knight, of course.”

Cole paused with a bite of sorbet almost to his lips.

“Her power?” Minimus cried.

“Others channeled it to him,” Callista said. “I'm sure they hoped to control Honor's power through him. But her power claimed the host body and mind.”

“Wait,” Cole said. “The Rogue Knight is Honor's power, but also a real person?”

“Same with Morgassa,” Callista said. “The power can't just take shape here like it did in Sambria. It needs a host. Brady's power worked a potent changing on someone, as did Honor's. They became Morgassa and the Rogue Knight.”

“I'm astounded,” Honor said. “I've heard of this Rogue Knight, but I never suspected a connection to him.”

“He knows much about you,” Callista replied. “His strength rises from your power.”

“Is the Rogue Knight all right?” Mira asked. “He's alive?”

“He is well,” Minimus said. “I would feel it if he fell.”

“Likewise,” Callista said.

Mira looked relieved. “We know a little about the people who created Morgassa and the Rogue Knight,” she said, then explained about the shapecrafter Quima and how she tried to control Carnag.

“I bet Owandell was a shapecrafter too,” Honor said. “That would fit.”

“I knew there were people like these shapecrafters,” Callista said. “I've felt them meddling with the shaping power. I never learned what they called themselves. They've effectively kept to the shadows.”

“But lately they've taken on more than they could handle,” Twitch said.

“In Morgassa and the Rogue Knight both,” Callista agreed.

“I'll have to defeat the Rogue Knight to get my power back,” Honor said.

“You'll do no such thing,” Minimus said heatedly. “I'll be a corpse first.”

“Let's not be too hasty,” Callista said, turning a sharp eye to Minimus. “I would hate to unravel the changings worked on you, little man.”

Minimus stood up and drew his sword. “You're welcome to try.”

Hand straying to the hilt of his Jumping Sword, Cole shifted to the edge of his seat. He had seen Minimus in action. If this escalated, it would get ugly, fast.

“Sheath that at once, or the mist grifters will feast on your organs,” Callista threatened. “If anything happened to Honor, the Rogue Knight would not only lose his power, but probably his life.”