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Authors: Millie Burns

Tags: #adventure, #fantasy, #magic, #young adult, #childrens, #teen, #sorcery, #hero, #good vs evil, #creature, #mythical

Return of the Crown (10 page)

BOOK: Return of the Crown
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Ena’s skin was coming in handy. She draped it
from the bush’s twiggy branches, creating a small-tented area. She
uncorked a gourd. Greedily she drank, stopping mid-guzzle. There
were miles and miles to go. Her thirst cried for more, but she
ignored it, putting the cork back in place. Breakfast consisted of
a dry biscuit, bruised fruit, and a handful of nuts. She wolfed
them down.

The air warmed making her drowsy. Settling
under her shade, her eyelids drooped. Her breath softened as she
drifted into slumber.

Colors swirled about her head. They seeped
together, becoming a howling black void that was sucking her
parents into its depths. She grabbed her mother’s hand, trying to
pull her back to the beach. Rocks and sand whirled around her,
ripping at her skin. Ravyn gasped, her eyes snapping open. The wind
shrieked at her, flying grit stinging exposed skin.

She snatched the dragon skin before the wind
snagged it away. Curling into a little ball, she tucked Ena’s skin
tightly about her. Her aunt’s evil influence tainted the wind; it
smelled of rotten eggs and sent goose bumps racing up her arms.

The shrieking wind raged, yanking at the skin
and tossing sand and rocks at her. She gripped the silken material
tighter, cosseting herself from the biting gale. She began humming,
finding a melody and losing herself in the song.

Time lost meaning as she huddled in her
silken cocoon. The squealing gale subsided to a moaning wind, and
then it shushed into nothingness. Complete silence reigned. Ravyn
blinked, tears springing to her eyes. She tried to stretch, but
couldn’t move, sand pressed down on her. Her breath came in ragged
little gasps as she gulped down her shrinking air supply. Panic
clawed her, bile filling the back of her throat. Summoning all her
strength, she wriggled wormlike upwards. The sand slid away
grudgingly. She emerged from the sand like a gopher poking its head
out of its hole.

She pulled her feet free. Jumping up, she
tossed the dragon skin aside, shaking sand everywhere. She filled
her lungs with air, noting the sun sinking down in the west. To the
south, the endless dunes glowed like fire in the last of the sun’s
rays.

 

The scent of pine washed over her. She opened
her senses, registering Connor’s aural thread hovering over
her.


Ravyn, you are fine? You didn’t use
magic. By the Light, how did you survive?


A dragon gave me a piece of her skin and
that protected me from the sandstorm. Oh, Connor, I was worried
about you! I tried contacting you but couldn’t find you. I sensed
Zelera searching, and I didn’t know if she was looking for you or
for me, or if she’d captured you. Thank the Light you are safe.


A dragon, eh? We have much to discuss,
but little time. I am on the move; Zelera is on me like bees on
clover. Blade is on his way to meet you. You have about one more
day’s walk through dunes, then another day through the borderland.
When you arrive at the grasslands, civilization begins. Here you
will find small farms and cattle land. The first village you come
to will be Land’s End. Blade will find you there. You may have to
wait a few days for his arrival, but a friend of mine will take you
in
.’


Blade’s coming! I can’t wait! I’ve missed
him so much. How will I know him? I’ve changed over the years; I’m
sure he has too
.’

Connor chuckled, ‘
You’ll know him. Neither
of you have changed that much. I must go now, but I’ll talk to you
as soon as I can, and you can tell me all about that
dragon
.’

 

Alone again, Ravyn sifted through the sand
finding her pack and water gourds. One of the gourds cracked in
half, the water lost. She took a small sip from the remaining
gourd. She sloshed the contents around; it was half-full.
Shouldering her pack and keeping the setting sun on her right, she
headed south, out of Desolation.

The night was uneventful. She continued
slogging over the sand, her calves screaming at her, threatening to
cramp with each step. The air was utterly still, nothing stirred.
‘One more step,’ became her mantra. She felt her feet slide out
from under her, and she slid down a dune on her bottom. She dusted
herself off, picked herself up, and started trudging on without
missing a beat.

Sand gradually gave way to gravel, and little
thorny bushes littered the landscape. Little branches reached out
for her, scratching and biting. Ravyn took a small sip of water to
wet her parched mouth. The borderlands lay at her feet. She peered
before her, looking for some sign of civilization. Her eyes met
only boulders and scrubby bushes, a landscape nearly as bleak as
endless dunes. One day, just one more day.

Finding a cozy niche between boulders, she
covered herself with her silky skin blanket. Exhaustion claimed her
before her head even hit her pack.

 

Fingernails bit deep into pale white skin,
drawing blood. Zelera watched her niece shaking off sand. “Damn
little snit,” she screamed as she tossed her books on the floor.
She stamped her feet like a fussy toddler, yanking at her hair and
screaming like a banshee. She faltered; her legs threatened to
collapse. Zelera grasped her worktable, keeping herself upright.
Her vision became fuzzy; it was as if she were looking through a
veil. She inhaled a deep breath, relaxing. She let the anger settle
deep within her, and the world came back into focus. Her lips
curled in a nasty grin.

Zelera stepped over to her scrying bowl. She
chanted a few dark words while sprinkling blood drops into the
swirling waters. Soon a grumpy pudgy face, like a bulldog, swam
into view. He was peering at her through a hand mirror.

“Your mightiness, how can I be of service to
you?” leered Tilgey. He eyed her image, appraising her up and down.
Spittle formed little balls at the corners of his fat lips.

Zelera released power through the scrying
bowl; violet lightning arced from the glass, striking Tilgey in the
forehead. He squealed as his eyes crossed and his hair stood on
end.

“Repugnant little man, remember to whom you
are speaking. If you forget yourself again, I will see you writhing
in agony for eternity.”

Tilgey bowed low, his belly nearly scraping
the ground. He grunted as he tried to stand back up without falling
over. He tugged at his waistband, hitching his pants up. A nervous
hand smoothed his stained frock. “Your highness, I meant no
disrespect. I am ever at your service. What can I do for you?”

Zelera flicked a bony finger at the scrying
bowl as she chanted. An image of Ravyn coalesced on Tilgey’s
mirror. “This is Princess Ravyn. She will reach Land’s End in a
day. She is crossing the Borderlands. Capture her, and bring her to
me.”

Tilgey leered at the young girl in the
mirror.

“You will not harm her, Tilgey. That is to be
my pleasure. I have plans for this little bird.”

“And, what kind of reward might me and me men
expect, ma’am, if you don’t mind me asking?” his greedy little eyes
sparkled.

“You have the pleasure of living another day,
you filthy swine.”

Swallowing, Tilgey mumbled, “Ah, I see. Don’t
hurt to ask, ya know. Times are tough. Not much worth stealing
nowadays.” He ran a dirty hand under his nose, sniffing.

“Tilgey, don’t disappoint me,” Zelera
sneered, sending another sharp jolt of power through the bowl. She
laughed as Tilgey screamed, licking her lips as she tasted his
fear.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 

 

 

Ravyn pushed herself up, rubbing her gritty
groggy eyes. Her mouth felt dry, like she’d been sucking on cotton.
Reaching for the water gourd, she sloshed it around. There was less
than a quarter left. Though every muscle in her body was screaming,
a broad grin spread across her face. Desolation was almost ancient
history.

Exploring the contents of her pack, she found
squashed fruit, some hard cheese, and even harder biscuits. She
gnawed at cheese and a biscuit, washing down the pasty meal with
sips of water. She folded up Ena’s skin, replacing it in her
pack.

She set out as the sun slipped below the
horizon. Loose rocks and uneven ground sent her slipping and
sliding. Aching muscles begged for mercy as she lost her balance
again.

The ground became rockier, and the little
rocks made way for their bigger siblings. Soon she was trudging
around monstrous boulders. It was dark, but she could make out the
shapes of the rocks and find the passages between them. All she
could think of was a hot bath and hot food.

Trying to keep her mind off such things, her
thoughts flew back to Draconis Island, and Ena. Wistful thoughts
filled her mind, for Ena could have flown over this in no time. But
she had to get back to her remaining eggs. Ravyn sighed, letting
the tension in her shoulders fall away.

Her mind wandered to flights of fancy. Could
she accomplish something like that? Just toss herself across this
rocky wasteland? She sighed again. Connor said no magic.

She banged her head into a rock that jutted
out above her. She rubbed her forehead, “Ouch, blasted rocks.”

The idea of flying flitted back to the
forefront of her thoughts. Connor said that transporting oneself
was exhausting. But, it was possible, she reasoned. They had been
talking about crossing the space from Rowan’s island to Connor’s
cottage. This was a mere ten or fifteen miles. Zelera was already
tracking her. That was obvious. Could a little magic really
hurt?

“No, no, no,” she cried aloud, reprimanding
herself. Connor said no. She groaned, edging between two towering
boulders.

The rocks closed ranks and the ground
vanished. She faced a great stony field. She scrambled over huge
boulders, hopping from one to the next. While mesmerized by
daydreams of flying, she twisted her ankle in a crack.

She plunked down and grabbed her throbbing
ankle. Tears slid down her dusty cheeks creating little brown
rivers. Magic would make things so much easier, and Connor wouldn’t
let her use it. Now she knew why they named it Desolation.

Ravyn sat up straight, wiping the muddy
tracks from her cheeks. Princesses do not cry. She could feel magic
coursing through her body, begging for release.

“I can’t stay here another night, and I can’t
walk anymore,” she whined. She grabbed at the magic, forming an
image of the grasslands she had seen while scrying. She pictured
herself flying over the boulders, light as a feather. She imagined
how the cool grass would feel beneath her feet, and the scent of
rich fertile soil washed over her. Opening her eyes, she soaked in
the panorama of green fields. She inhaled the scent of freshly cut
hay. I did it!

Waves of fatigue and nausea rushed over her,
spinning her world out of control. She slammed hard into the
ground, the dark blue sky dimming to black. Forcing her eyes open,
she saw a dark figure looming over her. “Blade, is that you,” she
gasped.

“I’ll give you a blade,” a gravelly voice
grunted. The flat of a sword swept out, hitting her hard across the
forehead. She fell deep into a dark void.

 

Connor was pacing; Magda hadn’t contacted
him. She and Blade must have Ravyn by now. Turning to his scrying
bowl, he flew toward Land’s End. He found the rose and turquoise
thread winding up toward him from Magda’s house. It smelt of spicy
carnations.

Magda felt the psychic tug and opened up to
Connor.
‘Calling again so soon? Do you miss me that much,
man?’


I always miss you, sweet Magda. However,
I must admit the lack of news is driving me batty. What is going
on?’

Looking at the floor of her little cottage,
Magda shifted uneasily.
‘Ah, well, yes. That can be annoying.
But no news is good news, I’ve heard some say.’


Magda, quit stalling. What’s gone wrong?
I can see it in your face; things didn’t go according to
plan.’


I believe Blade’s located her general
whereabouts, but he’s not been in contact with her yet.’
She
cleared her throat.
‘It seems two nights ago she used magic to
transport herself out of Desolation. Really, Connor, didn’t you
warn her about the costs of that kind of magic? When she landed,
Zelera’s thugs were waiting, and she was so drained. She didn’t
even put up the tiniest bit of a fight.’


No! Oh, I haven’t been watching her
closely. Zelera has been on my tail for days, and it’s taking every
trick I know to keep one step ahead of her thugs.’
He paused
collecting his thoughts,
‘Blade knows where she’s been
taken?’


Aye, Blade’s tracking them. Not sure what
he’s planning for a rescue, but I know that boy will think of
something. He is clever. Never fear; Blade has a trick or two up
his sleeve.’


I have no tricks to send the boy right
now, Magda. I have been running several days straight. I can hear
Zelera’s buffoons crashing through the woods right now. I’ll have
to go soon. But, dear friend, is there anything you can do to aid
them?’


I’m already ahead of you. I gave the boy
a few things that might aid in a diversion. Aside from that, I can
do no more. I cannot attract attention to myself. Unlike you,
Connor, these old bones wouldn’t last more than a few days on the
run. I am still shocked that Zelera hasn’t come for me. She’s
captured most every practitioner of the Light. She must think her
old School of Light head mistress is already dead.’

Connor winked,
‘Those old bones look
pretty good to me.’


Stop! You’ll have me blushing like a
young maid.’

Connor guffawed, clutching his sides.
‘I
thought you were a young maid, my mistake. When this is over,
Maggie, we need to get together for a visit. It’s been far too
long.’

BOOK: Return of the Crown
6.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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