On the Isle of Sound and Wonder (28 page)

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Karaburan slept on the grass beside Mira that night in peace, with nary a hint of bad dreams. Since no nightmares startled him awake, and since Dante did not notice Karaburan’s presence, Mira declared that he would stay with her whenever he liked.

It became routine: before night fell, he and Mira would play a game, or talk, or Mira would read from a book, and they would fall asleep together on the grass. It was too cold to sleep in the stone cave, so Mira liked to sleep in the open air. At first, Karaburan couched himself several feet away from Mira, but as the days passed and turned into weeks, he drifted closer to her, until at last they slept side by side, like young animals in a nest together. Night after night, Aurael watched and seethed with jealousy at their growing attachment.

I ought to break open his mind and let the nightmares take over,
he thought maliciously.
I ought to crack him like an egg, and then Mira will see how dangerous and loathsome he is, and Dante will banish him for good, and then we’ll see who Mira turns to for friendship!

When at last a month had gone by, Aurael made his move. He waited until Mira and Karaburan were asleep, side by side on the soft grass and moss outside the cave. The fireflies danced in the darkness, reflecting the gleaming stars in the sky, casting strange flurries of light on the prone form of Mira and the curled-up lump that was Karaburan, snoring softly beside her. There was no sound but the insects chirping faintly in the dark, the occasional night-bird in the trees, and the gentle breezes passing through the ferns.

Aurael stepped into the dark place of Karaburan’s mind and pulled him into a dream about his mother.

In the dream, Karaburan sat on the grass like a dog, eagerly attending his mother’s words. Aurael used Corvina’s semblance as a puppet, dictating a speech to her son about growing up, becoming a man, and being lord over the entire island all to himself.

“But, Mother,” Karaburan interrupted eagerly, “I am not alone! My friends are here.”

Aurael, as Corvina, stopped and looked closely at Karaburan. “What friends?” said the witch.

“The kind man, Dante, who let me live, and his daughter, Mira, who is my best friend in all the world.”

“But, my son,” Corvina said, puzzled. “You cannot be friends with those who belong to you! You are a king, you are an emperor of all this isle. Do they not know who you are?”

“They know my name,” said Karaburan, happily. “We are great friends! I am very glad they’re here.”

“My son, my noble son,” Corvina purred. “What is Mira?”

“My friend!”

            “No, Karaburan. She is a girl. She will be a woman. And you will be a man.”

Karaburan made a strange face, thinking very hard on what that could possibly mean. Aurael could practically hear the gears turning, even in the dreamscape. Suddenly, before Aurael could stop it from happening, the dream shifted and spun into darkness, and there was a roar as from a great jungle cat.

Aurael was flung unceremoniously from the witch’s puppet-body and into dark space, spinning uncontrollably like a top. He dug in and tried to grab onto something in Karaburan’s mind.
A tiger? What the devil is that doing here! I must be losing my grip on the dream.

Aurael’s momentum slowed at last, and he could hear Karaburan whimpering in the dream-shadows. He slunk closer, listening with one ear for his unexpected attacker.

“Karaburan,” he whispered in a voice that was not his own.

“Who’s there?” cried the man-beast.

“I’m you,” lied Aurael. “From the future.”

“What!” Karaburan’s tears dried instantly, and he crawled forward in the dark, sniffing and pawing at the shadows. “Where are you?”

“I’m here, within you.” Aurael made himself very small. “You—I—we are king of the island!”

“We are?” Karaburan exclaimed, stopping and making a joyful noise.

“Yes, yes, we are! But do you know what we had to do to become king?”

“Oh, what? Tell me! I want to be king. Will I be king soon?”

“You will if you do this,” promised Aurael.

“What is it?”

“Mira.”

“What about Mira?” Karaburan was puzzled.

“She is our queen! She loves you and does not know how to tell you. To become king of the island, you must show her you love her.”

“I do love her! How do I tell her that?” Karaburan scrambled about blindly in the dream space, and Aurael felt the air growing warmer with his excitement and confusion.

“You don’t need to speak it,” assured Aurael. “You need to show her. You know what you want to do, way deep down. Follow your instincts.”

“I don’t understand,” protested Karaburan, but Aurael wearied of waiting for the beast’s simple mind to grasp his meaning. He reached way deep into the monster’s psyche, grasping several strands of emotion and base instinct and twisting them together sharply. Karaburan gasped, and Aurael kicked off from the surface of the dreamscape, veering upward, out of the dream altogether, until he crouched on the moss in the clearing again, with the fireflies overhead. He soared backward, perching high in a tree, and watched as Karaburan writhed on the ground and woke with a start, his breathing labored and shallow.

Aurael felt breathless and dazed, but triumphant. Then he saw Karaburan roll over on top of Mira, and his triumph vanished like a cold dousing of water.

Mira woke, startled, but groggy. She said something in a blurry voice and began to push at Karaburan, then to kick and flail her arms and legs. She thrashed in protest, but Karaburan was large and heavy, and his body covered hers like an octopus envelops its unsuspecting prey.

What have I done?
Aurael saw the gleam of moonlight in Mira’s eyes, suddenly wide with terror, and knew he’d made a mistake.

Aurael whipped the air at the grass around them as though he could blow Karaburan away. He changed shapes in quick succession, wanting to drop down and tear the misshapen boy away from her with iron claws and snapping teeth, but he could not do it—Dante had commanded that he never reveal himself to Karaburan. Dreaming had been Aurael’s only access to Karaburan’s mind over the years. Without Dante’s direct orders, Aurael was as powerless as though he were not even there.

Panicking, he dropped from the tree and threw a bolt of cold air into the cave. It struck and toppled a stack of books and a metal bowl, causing a clatter loud enough to wake the sleeping man.

Mira made a strangled noise of terror, and Karaburan moaned, then Dante appeared with a crack of thunder, his staff gleaming blue in every scratched rune. His eyes were like wildfire, and with a single sweep of the staff, he knocked Karaburan across the clearing and dropped him at the foot of a tree, crumpled and terrified.

Mira lay on her side on the ground in shock, her hands shaking, trying to catch her breath. Dante stood over her protectively, fixing his furious gaze on Karaburan.

“Please, sir, what have I done?” cried Karaburan. He looked completely stunned, as though he had been startled awake by Dante’s blow.

Dante knelt beside his daughter. “Mira,” he said in a very grave, quiet tone. “Are you hurt?”

Mira hesitated, but after a moment she shook her head. Aurael thought his own heart would burst. She did not look hurt, but surely Karaburan had been too heavy, too strong. Her frightened face and trembling hands made Aurael wild with worry.
I thought he would have some kind of fit, cause a scene, not try to take her by force!

Dante stood again and pointed the staff at Karaburan. “What exactly did you think you were doing?” he demanded.

“Doing? Nothing! I was asleep! If I hurt her it was a mistake, an accident! I did not mean to hurt her,” pleaded Karaburan. “I did not mean to do anything! I love her, she is my true and only friend. I would never hurt her!”

“Be still,” said Dante coldly. “You have broken my trust,” he declared at last. “And you have broken hers. You have destroyed what peace you had, and you have done it on your own terms. You will never lay eyes on her again.” The runes on the staff grew blindingly bright. Karaburan’s sobbing and hiccupping slowed, and his eyes grew glassy.

“You will go to your rocky hovel on the beach, and remain there, asleep, until dawn. You will not return unless I call for you, and you will never see Mira again. You will remain permanently divided from her, as your punishment; she will move freely about the island, but you will only be able to move wherever she is not. If she passes you by, you will be rooted to the spot where you stand until she has gone elsewhere, out of your range. You will be enslaved to my service until your days have ended.”

“Yes, Master,” answered the hypnotized Karaburan.

“Now go, and speak no more of this night.”

“Yes, Master,” repeated Karaburan, and lumbered off as casually as though he had only been a wild animal passing through.

Aurael could scarcely believe it.
That
’
s it? His big punishment is an avoidance spell? Why won’t Dante just kill him?
he seethed, but his insides were as loose and watery as the tide as he looked down at the terrified girl below.
What have I done, what have I done!

“
Come, daughter,” said Dante, turning to head back to the cave.

“Father,” Mira stammered, eyes wide. “Why did he . . . What just happened?” Tears glimmered at the corners of her eyes, wavering on the brink.

Dante’s expression was stoic. “It doesn’t matter,” he answered coolly. He raised one hand as though to calm her down. “It’s done. You have nothing to fear. You will act as if it never happened.”

“But it did!” Mira’s voice squeaked in the night air. She shook violently as she reached for her father, seeking comfort. “It happened! That was real. It was. He . . . He was going to—”

“Hush. No more!” Dante’s eyes flashed. He tightened his raised hand into a fist for a moment, before relaxing and lowering it to help her stand. “Come inside and sleep upon the bed I’ve made for you. It is no place for you to sleep with insects and fish and creatures of all sorts.” She did not take his offered hand, so Dante took her by the arm and pulled her upright. She shook free as she got to her feet, recoiling from his touch.

 “That’s all you have to say?” Mira whispered, her voice tiny and terrified.

“Daughter, you are not hurt, and he will never come near you again. You are quite safe. There is no need for you to be hysterical.”

Mira stared at him in tear-stained amazement, and Aurael could almost hear the twang of a string breaking somewhere in her heart. After several long moments, she went inside, shocked into silence.

Aurael put his face in his hands.
I have ruined her,
he thought desperately. He felt a strange heat on the backs of his hands and peered down. Dante was staring up at him where he perched in the tree. His expression had grown darker, the lines of his face deeper and harder. Aurael felt suddenly extremely exposed and vulnerable.
Oh, dear,
he thought.

“I had a vision this day would come,” Dante murmured. “I foresaw the betrayal of the beast-child, and I foresaw the change in my daughter’s innocence. There are forces at work here other than you, Aurael, and I will not have it. I will not brook any further mischief. And as for you, you will leave her alone, do you hear me? She will forget you as easily as a dream.”

“Master!” Aurael exclaimed aloud, swooping down and landing on his knees at Dante’s feet. “Please! I can help, I can protect her, I can—”

“No,” declared Dante. “She has outgrown her imaginary friend.”

Aurael’s soul cried out in agony. His voice, reed-thin, pleaded once more, “Please!”

“From now on, no more games. You are my servant, Aurael. I am your master. If you want your freedom, you must work for it.”

He went away into the cave, his strange and weathered cloak flowing like the night sky behind him, leaving Aurael to cry to the fireflies and night-birds in the darkness.

Ferran drifted into consciousness and heard a faint but steady dripping of water nearby. He felt hard, uneven stone against his back, his muscles sore from the not-quite-flat position he lay in, with rocks poking into his back and neck. He opened his eyes to darkness and tried to sit up, but found that his ankles were bound, as were his wrists before him. A pain spiked in his ribs as he tried to turn over onto his side, and he caught his breath hard. Soreness bloomed throughout his body, various bruises throbbing in reminder of their presence. The sound of his sore grunt echoed back at him from the walls and low ceiling.

A cave? What happened?
Ferran tried to think back, reaching into the dark fog of his mind for answers, but nothing materialized.

There was a scraping sound somewhere in the dark. Ferran lay very still, listening. Someone was coming. He shut his eyes, hearing the heavy footfall of someone coming nearer. Whoever it was sounded as though they were dragging something big. The unseen stranger stopped somewhere in the room and dropped the load, then sighed heavily and lumbered away again, the steps sounding fainter and fainter down the corridor.