Beastly (23 page)

The Beast struggled with a painful memory. “I remember now. I remember the night you told me we had to send Lia away. I was supposed to find Cedrik at the throne room’s hidden passage.” A forgotten pain burned through his flank. He reached around, rubbing at it absentmindedly. He remembered the piercing sting of the blade.

“I meant to heal your wound and send you to escort your daughter, to raise her in safety somewhere bright and green.
Somewhere far from the Liche Queen’s wrath. My healing spell combined with Pandora’s curse and transformed you into your form as you breached the portal.” Polaris stroked the Beast’s face, her voice pitched into a plea. “It is my fault you have been shaped into this being. If the power were mine, I would take it all back.”

“Lady Adella--” the Beast began.

A lump grew in the North Star’s
throat, tears glazed her crystal blue eyes. “I searched for you and for Lia. From the Celestial Palace of my people, I searched night and day. But Cedrik, ever the dutiful, disappeared without a trace. And Pandora’s curse proved more powerful than any I could have imagined her capable of. There was no trace of my Captain Donovan to be found.”

Poogs knelt and wiped at her tears. “Lady Polaris, it breaks my heart to see the North Star endure such sadness. Ask what you would of me and I will follow the mighty Beast of Briarburn to the very end.”

The Beast placed a paw on
Poogs’s shoulder. He fumbled for a moment, having not used the word in so very long. But he knew that the pirate was speaking the truth. “My friend, I would be honored to have you along to face whatever fate has in store... together.” He regarded Polaris, fierce determination on proud display. “There must be a way to bring them back,” he stated flatly. “There must be something I can do.“

“That’s my Donovan.
Always the knight in shining armor, never accepting defeat.” A soft sigh slipped from Polaris’s lips. “Alas, my daughter has chosen her fate. She worships at Ahriman’s altar freely. She will not be so easily persuaded to abandon the darkness. Lia is another matter entirely. Pandora may be lost, but that does not mean for a moment that Lia will share in her fate.”

The Beast clasped his heavy paws around the North Star’s delicate shoulders. “If there is a way,
any
way, to bring the princess back to the light, I will find it.”

Chapter 25

Many hours had passed since the Liche Queen had locked her away in the crowning spire of the Nekropolis. Lia huddled on the floor, knees to chest. A fell wind sliced through the slits between the petrified branches, filling the cell with icy dread, howling like a pack of hungry wolves. Worse still, the clicking horror of Malachai’s talons echoed just beyond the door.  

Lia shivered, covered her ears with trembling hands. Malachai’s ominous presence did far more to chill her blood than any wind. She rocked gently, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped up in her tattered blanket with the stitched on stars, listening to
Cedrik’s lullaby. She replayed her island adventure’s dazzling climax in her mind. She had watched, in almost as much awe as former Captain Malachai, as the Reaper’s Song burst through the cloud cover and descended upon the nightmarish crater. In her wildest dreams she could never have imagined a flying ship, nor its dauntless captain leaping into the monstrous swarm.

Lia paced the cell’s jagged perimeter, spurred by the memory’s valiant shine, tracing the walls with her fingertips. The tight space offered precious little to inspire imagination. A raised slab of uninviting petrified wood jutted from a corner and beside it, a lonely brazier housed a lifeless
green flame. She tip toed to the knotted tangle of a door, doing her best to block out the echoing click of Malachai’s pacing. She reached for the handle, but reconsidered it. Instead she pressed her ear to the branches.

Click, Ka-click, click, Ka-click...
 

Lia scrambled backwards into the narrow alcove behind the bed-slab, certain that Malachai’s talons would come gnashing through the door. A long breath passed. She poked her head over the slab, daring a peek.

No Malachai.

There must be another way
, she thought as she peered between the tangled walls. The ugly kingdom’s sky was thick with the glow of an unseen moon, stars glumly absent. The clicking of talons grew louder and she wondered if they’d ever leave her alone. Slivers of a monstrous shadow stabbed though the door, strengthening the menace of Malachai’s threat. The child climbed onto the slab and pulled her knees back into her chest. She sobbed quietly, too frightened to cry out. She was no dauntless rogue. She was no queen of stars.

She had not the blood of a beast.

She buried her face into her kneecaps. “
Pafaa
’ I’m scared. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

A distant light brightened and filtered into the cell. “You are never alone star-shine.” Lia jumped down from the slab and rushed to a gap between branches. She craned her head, searching the skies. And there she was. The North Star blazed proudly, unfazed by the evil lurking
beneath her radiance.

“Please...” Lia poked through the narrow gap. Her stubby fingers tingled in the starlight. A peaceful wave rolled over her as it had the first time Polaris found her in the Gloom.

“We are coming, Lia. You need be brave for only a short while more.” The light faded and Lia sat back on the slab.
She said ’we’
, Lia thought. That had to mean the giant and Captain Poogs were on their way. It just had to. It dawned on her that despite their connection, she did not know the creature’s name. He certainly was every bit a beast: the horns, the claws, the fury. And yet there was more. She had felt it on the Reaper’s Song. She knew he was coming for her and that he would not stop until she was safe.

She would be brave as the North Star requested. But that did not mean she
need stay in her dreary cell. Lia remembered Polaris’s grand appearance, how she had poured the star into her hand. The words slipped free of her subconscious and filled her waking mind. Lia whispered the secret to the howling wind and the magic instantly came to call. A surge prickled her skin and her body fizzled into a miasma of magic that began to rise. It was a peculiar feeling: a spreading tickle and itch combined. Lia willed her cloud-like stream through a gap and into the night. The wind no longer frightened her, now it was more like the gentle whimper of a pet. She asked for its help.

The wind whistled and sent Lia’s essence sailing over the Nekropolis’s
skyline to the highest tower. Her body materialized in a spiraling flourish. She plopped down and dangled her legs as though she were sitting dockside. “I will just wait here,” Lia said confidently, hoping that Polaris was still listening. A frozen voice answered, chilling her courage. She spun, nearly tumbling from her perch.

“You are brave, little abomination. Brave, but foolish.” The Liche Queen hovered at a mere arm’s length, onyx hair dancing on a tempest at her shoulders. Lia’s skin shed a thin film of terrified sweat. “Go away!” Lia shouted into the tempest.

The Liche Queen stepped down from the sky, stalking across the angular roof. She surveyed her decaying kingdom, beaming with pride at the macabre landscape. “Where would I go, little one?” the Liche Queen countered. She opened her arms wide. “This is my home.”  

“I hate it! It’s ugly and cold.” Lia’s voice trembled, but a whisper deep down told her to be strong. “I’ll never stay here with you!”

The Liche Queen threw her head back and laughed a terrible laugh. The dreadful sound fell from the tower and rushed over the compound in a deathly echo. Lia was certain it was the most hideous sound in the world. Pandora bunched her flowing cloak, twisted her legs and seated herself. The child was obviously a defiant little thing. She would have to try another tactic.

“I was once like you.
Alone. Locked away,” the Liche Queen lied quietly, “Taken places I did not wish to go, told to conceal my...gifts.” The wind died to a gentle breeze and the pale moon seemed less sickly in the cloudless sky. Lia was shocked. That someone once gave commands to the sorceress beside her seemed unbelievable.

“The other children didn’t like me. They never let me play their games or share their songs. My ’
pafaa’
always told me to be careful who saw my magic. He said monsters would come. Lia’s eyes widened.

“He told me you would come.”

The Liche Queen covered her heart with her hand. A very warm, very human laugh filled the night. “Of course I would take you. You did not belong with the peasants. You have a special destiny, one I am to play a special role in preparing you for. It was wrong of your grandfather to hide you away.”

“But, but, you sent Malachai. You burned my home. I don’t understand,” Lia said. Tiny tears welled up at the fiery memory.

“No. You do not,” the Liche Queen said. Her face softened to a rare smile. “But I shall show you.”

The Liche Queen waved her hand and a cloud of darkness wrapped around them. Lia smelt something foul, like a swamp on a humid summer’s day. The cloud vanished with a ‘pop’. A swath of black satin floated on a draft at the end of long corridor. Amber torchlight faded behind them with every footstep. Lia shivered against a slicing draft: the corridor was even colder than the cell. Silence reigned.  

The Liche Queen swept the veil it from the lintel. With a servant’s
bow, she gestured. “Welcome,” Pandora said proudly, “welcome to my secret place.” The cavernous dark far exceeded any that Lia had ever imagined. She wondered, as the Liche Queen stepped followed at her heels, if it stretched on forever. Orbs of floating Wakeful flame bobbed lazily as they drifted through the Garrison. The Liche Queen led Lia to the altar, waving the orbs into the cavern. Several yards beyond the demonic artifact, emerald light glinted on the slumbering Wakeful.

Lia peered from behind the rune inscribed arbour, nodding her head as she struggled to count the vast Wakeful ranks. There had been only five Wakeful plus Malachai at Sensheeri...

That was all it had taken.
Six
. Six soldiers in ugly barbed armor had managed to destroy an entire village in mere minutes. Here, in the bowels of the Nekropolis, there were more than she could count.

“Do not be afraid. They cannot harm you. I would never allow it,” the Liche Queen said. She stepped behind the hiding child, placing her hands protectively on Lia’s shoulders. The Liche Queen gestured to the closest battalion. “These are my children.”

The front line suddenly came to life. Blazing green flame erupted from their armored face plates. To the man, blades were drawn in unison. They saluted their adoring queen and then drove their blades skyward. The formation stood still as statues.
Unquestioning. Loyal. The Liche Queen guided Lia forward. “Please,” she offered, “say hello.”

Lia crept to the edge, dragging her feet. She thought of the Beast, how
he had stood against the shriekers. She too, would show no fear. She straightened her back, set her shoulders.  

“Hello...”

On cue, the formations of Wakeful came to life and the Garrison was filled with the scraping sounds of a storm of blades sliding free. The Wakeful offered their salute and the clank of armor striking armor rattled the cavern. The Liche Queen sunk to her knees, stroking the child’s back. “They could be yours, little one.
All of them. No one would ever dare look down upon you again. You need only seize the power for yourself.”

A nagging voice in Lia’s head begged her to heed the Liche Queen’s advice. It longed to claim the soulless soldiers below, turning frantically desperate as it pleaded its case. It made her think about Sensheeri.
And Phillip. If only she had commanded the Wakeful before Malachai came with his own pitiful band. Those pathetic brats would have been sorry! She could have stomped on their drawings. She could have kicked them while they cried out. She could have ruined their games and silenced their songs forever.  

The voice hardened. It promised more.
Much more.
Why stop at the children
, it asked. All of the adults who turned a blind eye to her torment, who whispered behind her back, they would have been sorry too. Sorry for making her feel like less than nothing when all she wanted was to belong. Lia regarded the Liche Queen. She suddenly felt thirsty, like she swallowed a mouthful of cotton.

“The Wakeful are just toys, my dear. Pawns that we use to achieve our ends,” the Liche Queen crooned. She took Lia by the hand and
led her back to the altar. The arbour hummed, savoring the delicious scent of the newcomer’s burgeoning power. “There is a whole world of magic for you to explore,” the Liche Queen said. She pointed at each rune inscribed on the arbour, calling each to life and light. “Your elders have tried to hide you away from the Blight your entire life. They lack understanding, vision. They fear the Blight as they fear their own mortality. They fail to understand its power, instead clinging to the Breath like a crutch. They say its power is unnatural. I say what could be more natural than wanting to keep hold of your loved ones forever.”

The Liche Queen gestured for Lia to look beyond. Sheets of tears fell from Lia’s eyes like stage curtains when she found him. Cedrik stood no more than ten feet away, his handsome features free of pain. Several orbs hovered above, bathing him in haunting green light. Lia was certain she could hear one of his favorite songs stirring from somewhere within the Garrison. It seemed like an entire lifetime had passed since she had cradled
Cedrik’s crumpled body back in the village. “
Pafaa
!”

Lia ran and locked her arms around the old man’s waist, squeezing with all the strength she could muster from her small frame. She sobbed openly, not caring if the Liche Queen or anyone else saw. Her ‘
pafaa
’ had returned. That was all that mattered. “I thought you were gone,” Lia cried, barely controlling the flood. She squeezed again, anticipating Cedrik’s arms to banish the terrible memories forever.