Page 13 of A Land of Fire


  A hole began burning right through the web, emanating from the diamond in his bracelet. It widened, and Thor felt his arm freed up. Soon, the hole burned even greater, and he felt himself freed from the web.

  Thor turned and leapt for the spider’s mouth, right before it could eat Reece, throwing himself inside it, planting his hands on its upper jaw and pushing higher and higher until the spider screeched and dropped Reece to the ground.

  Thor spun out of the spider’s jaw, and as he did, the spider snapped its mouth shut, barely missing killing him. In the same motion, Thor leapt upward and jumped onto the spider’s back, raising his sword and plunging it in the back of its neck.

  The spider’s legs buckled, and it collapsed down to the ground, on its belly, shrieking.

  One by one his Legion brothers disentangled themselves from the spider’s web, and as they did, Thor used his power to move the web, to wrap the spider in it, again and again, until the spider was immobile, helpless, flailing in rage. Thor reached down and grabbed the web, spun it around with superhuman strength, then hurled it.

  The spider went flying over the trees, through the air, until it finally landed far out into the ocean with a splash. It hissed and flailed, and they all watched as it slowly sank down into the sea.

  The boys all exchanged a look of wonder, realizing how lucky they all were to be alive, how close they had come to death. As they all made their way back to the boats, Thor realized that, even in this empty sea, they could never again assume any place was safe.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Gwen, having handed off the baby to Illepra, knelt on the deck of the ship beside Argon, laying a gentle hand on his wrist. It was cold to the touch, as it had been ever since they had departed for this journey, and he still lay in the position in which she had left him. Gwen was heartbroken to see him like this, lying on his back, looking so frail, so weak, his eyes moving beneath his closed eyelids, as if he were living some dream, off in some other world.

  “Argon, are you there?” she asked. “Come back to me.”

  He did not reply; he did not even flinch. Gwen felt that a part of Argon was still with her, but that another part was far away. She wondered if he would ever come back to her. He had given so much of himself to enable them all to survive, and Gwen felt guilty for it. She wanted now, more than ever, to be able to turn to him with questions, needing answers more than ever. Here she was, a Queen leading a nation in exile, heading to the most unlikely of places, right into the heart of the Empire. Gwen wondered if it was an insane plan, if they were all on their final death voyage as the currents pulled them further and further east, away from the Ring, away from the Upper Isles, and most of all, away from Guwayne and Thor.

  Gwendolyn closed her eyes and felt a tear. She thought of Thor and Guwayne, out there in the sea somewhere, searching for each other, so far from her. It was a quest, she knew, from which they might not ever return. She wondered how fate could be so cruel to take Thorgrin away from her just at the moment she had seen him again. Were they ever destined to be together, in one place? Would they ever wed? Would they ever settle down together?

  Gwen opened her eyes and saw that Argon would not be able to answer her now. She was on her own, and she would have to be strong, for all of her people.

  Gwendolyn rose to her feet and walked to the side of the deck, looking out at the exotic creatures in this part of the sea, noticing all of her people standing at the edge of the railing, watching and wondering. She followed their gaze and looked up to the sky, and she blinked in surprise. Perhaps a hundred yards overhead, instead of clouds, there was an ocean, just like the ocean beneath him. At first she thought it was a reflection. But then she realized it was a real ocean, floating in the sky. Out of it fish leapt, upside down, then went back in.

  It was the strangest thing she’d ever seen, and she could not fathom how it was possible.

  Gwen scanned the horizon, and she saw rainbows—not just one, but hundreds of them. They were not shaped in arcs, but in circular cones, rising straight up from the ocean to the sky. There were cones of color everywhere, lighting up the sea.

  Gwen heard a strange noise and looked up to see a huge bird, with a wing span perhaps twenty yards wide and a huge, grotesque head, circling above and shrieking. There appeared several more, swooping down, grabbing strange creatures out of the water, glowing, orange squid-like creatures, then swallowing them as they flew off.

  The deeper into this sea they sailed, the more foreign everything became. The air smelled different here; the wind felt different. They were sailing deeper into a land Gwen had never known, a land she had never wished to know. She found herself missing home, missing the familiar, wanting to turn back, wanting everything just to be the way it was. But she forced herself to realize that the past was gone forever.

  Gwen thought again of Guwayne, out there on the water, and her thoughts turned to Thorgrin. The farther away from them she sailed, the more she felt a heaviness in her chest, felt the likelihood increasing that she would never see them again. As she leaned over the rail, she extracted a quill and scroll of parchment from her waist, and she leaned against the wide, smooth rail and began to write:

  My dearest Thorgrin:

  My love for you has not waned, nor shall it ever. I love you more than I can ever say, and I know you shall reunite us with our son. I want you to know the place you hold in my heart. I think of you and dream of you, and you are right here by my side. You are the only one I’ve ever loved, and I shall never stop loving you.

  Your love forever,

  Gwendolyn

  Gwendolyn took the scroll and rolled it up tight. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a small glass, took the cork off, put the letter inside, and sealed it back up. A tear rolling down her cheeks, she reached back and threw it. It went spinning through the air and landed with a soft splash in the sea.

  As her unlikely message in a bottle floated on the waves, Gwendolyn half expected it to sink. She knew, of course, that there was no way that Thor would ever get it. And yet, she liked to think that somehow, by its entering the waters, he sensed it.

  As Gwen watched the small bottle, she suddenly heard a screech high above, different from the other birds. She looked up, and her heart warmed to see her old friend, Estopheles, diving down low, zeroing in on the glass bottle. She dove down and rescued Gwen’s message from the waters, swooping up the glass in her beak. She screeched as she flipped her great wings and carried it off, westward into the sky.

  As Gwendolyn watched her go, her heart filled with wonder and hope.

  Estopheles, she thought. Find Thorgrin, and carry my message to him.

  Gwen heard a strange noise coming from a few feet away, on the other side of the deck. She looked over to see Sandara leaning over the rail, sprinkling flowers and ashes into the waters, and chanting in a strange language. Somehow, at the sight of her, Gwendolyn felt better. There was something about her, a healing quality, that made Gwendolyn feel at peace around her.

  Sandara turned to look at her with her large black soulful eyes, and Gwendolyn quickly wiped away her tears, ashamed.

  Sandara smiled and walked toward her, laying a hand on her shoulder. As she did, Gwendolyn felt a warmth seep into her, felt that somehow, despite everything, all would be okay.

  *

  Sandara laid her hands on Queen Gwendolyn’s shoulders, and she closed her eyes, chanting softly. She concentrated on sending her healing energy, and as she did, she could feel Gwendolyn’s wounded spirit. She could feel all of the sadness within Gwendolyn, could feel her devastation at not being with her son, with her husband, Thorgrin. She could feel her uncertainty about the future, and she could also sense something else. She was not sure what. It felt like…regret about a decision she’d made. Something she had done in another world, a choice she’d had to make, having to do with sacrifice. She felt Gwen’s tremendous guilt and uncertainty over the fate of her husband and her son.

  Sandara felt trem
endous heat leaving her palms and entering Gwendolyn as she focused on healing her. She opened her eyes, and as she did, she saw Gwendolyn wipe away her tears, and watched her expression lighten. She realized that her healing had worked; she had taken Gwen’s sadness away. She shook her palms, which were burning her.

  “I feel better around you,” Gwen said. “Where did you learn your craft?”

  Sandara smiled back.

  “I am just another healer, my lady.”

  Gwendolyn shook her head and laid a hand on Sandara’s shoulder.

  “No,” she replied. “You’re far more than that. You have a gift.”

  Sandara smiled and looked away.

  “My people,” Sandara said, “they have different customs, different ways of healing. I come from a long line of healers. Seers, my people call them.”

  “Those flowers you dropped into the water earlier,” Gwendolyn said. “What were they?”

  “They were prayers for your husband and your son,” Sandara said. “It is an ancient custom among my people. I prayed that the flowers would be carried on the tide, just as your boy and husband be carried on the tides back to you.”

  Sandara could see by Gwen’s face how touched she was.

  “I am looking forward to meeting your people,” Gwendolyn said. “What are they like?”

  Sandara sighed as she turned and looked out at the sea.

  “My people are a very proud people. It is something of a paradox, as they have been slaves their entire lives. Yet they carry the pride of kings. They live with this paradox, each day.”

  “Sometimes the greatest pride lies within those who are subjugated,” Gwen replied.

  “Your words are true, my lady,” Sandara said. “Just because one is a slave does not mean one is weak—it simply means they are outnumbered. But numbers change, and one day my people will rise up again.”

  “Will your people shelter us?” Gwen asked, concern in her voice.

  Sandara sighed, wondering the same thing.

  “My people take the laws of hospitality very seriously,” she said. “And yet, the Empire is cruel, barbaric. If my people are caught harboring you, it will be death for them and their families.”

  A flash of concern crossed Gwendolyn’s face.

  “Perhaps we should go elsewhere in the Empire?”

  Sandara shook her head.

  “There is nowhere else,” she said. “Not on this side of the empire. There are other places within the empire, other places of rebellion, but they will be longer and harder to get to—and in other places, the slaves are subjugated worse than us.”

  Gwendolyn looked at her meaningfully and nodded.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Whatever happens, thank you. You have helped us. You have given us a direction. Even if it does not work.”

  Sandara smiled, her eyes welling up; she felt so grateful toward Gwendolyn, who had taken her in from the start, and who had always been so kind to her.

  “One day we might be sisters,” Gwen added, with a smile.

  Sandara blushed, recalling all of Kendrick’s talk of marriage.

  “I will do whatever I can, my lady,” Sandara said, “to convince my people. You shall have my loyalty, whatever happens.”

  Several of Gwen’s councilors approached and pulled her away, needing her attention on other matters, and Sandara soon found herself standing alone, looking out at the sea. She leaned over the railing, and wondered, trying to imagine the future that lay ahead of her. It would be so strange to be back home after all this time. How would her people receive her? Surely, they would be happy to see her; and yet, she would be arm in arm with Kendrick, a man of white skin. How would her people react? They could be very judgmental, she knew. More importantly, how would they react to her arriving with the ships? Would they turn them away?

  As Sandara stood there, wondering, she felt a presence beside her, and she turned to see Kendrick coming up beside her, smiling down at her, draping an arm around her waist. She leaned in as he hugged her, and as always, she felt so comfortable in his arms.

  “So we get to be together after all,” he said.

  Sandara smiled back.

  “All that time in the Ring,” he added, “you planned your return to the Empire, without me. And yet here we are, returning together. I suspect that if we hadn’t all been exiled, you would have left without me.”

  Sandara nodded.

  “Indeed I would have,” she said. “Not because I do not love you, but because my people need me.”

  Kendrick nodded.

  “Then at least,” he said, “I shall be thankful for the one good thing the great war brought me.”

  Sandara studied his face, so noble, so beautiful, and she could see his love for her, and she felt a flash of concern.

  “Kendrick, I love you deeply,” she said. “I would like to think our love will withstand any obstacle, especially now that we shall be together in my homeland.”

  She fell silent, and he studied her, confusion written on his face.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  Sandara paused, wondering how to phrase it.

  “My people,” she explained, “they do not marry those of other races. Ours will be a first. Assuming, of course, you are even thinking of marriage.”

  Kendrick reached over and took her hand and looked her in the eyes.

  “I’ve asked for your hand in marriage many times—and I would still like it now as much as ever.”

  Sandara smiled back up at him, feeling for the first time that maybe it was not a dream, that maybe it could really happen. And that scared her.

  “What I am trying to say,” she said, “is that I don’t know how my people will react to you.”

  He looked at her carefully.

  “I did not take you to be one who bows to the will of her people,” he said.

  Sandara reddened, indignant.

  “I am my own person,” she replied. “I bow to no one. And yet, my people are very close to one another. The disapproval of the elders is not something easily tolerated. I do not wish to be an outcast among my family.”

  Kendrick’s face darkened as he turned and looked out to the sea.

  “I would be, for you,” he said.

  “Your people are more open-minded than mine,” she countered. “You do not know what it’s like. The people of the Ring, they marry those of other races, from all parts of the world.”

  “And yet if they did not,” Kendrick said, “I would not let their disapproval stop me from being with someone I love.”

  Sandara turned to him, frustrated.

  “You cannot say that,” she said, “because you do not know what it’s like.”

  He sighed.

  “The choice is yours, my lady,” he said. “I will not ask you to be with someone you do not wish to be with.”

  Sandara felt her heart breaking inside. She reached out for his hands, raised them to her lips, and kissed them.

  “Kendrick, you do not understand me. What I am trying to say is that I want to be with you. I don’t want my people to tear us apart. But I will need to be strong. I will need your strength.”

  He nodded, and looked at her intently.

  “I would walk through fire to be with you,” he said. “The disapproval of your people will not drive me away.”

  Sandara felt relieved, as if she’d let a great weight off her chest, and she leaned it to kiss him; but suddenly, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye, something that made her stop. She looked carefully, studying the ocean waters, and her heart dropped as she was flooded with panic. She saw that, beneath them, the waters of the sea were shifting colors, growing lighter and lighter.

  Kendrick followed her gaze.

  “What is it?” he asked, seeing her expression.

  “Turn around!” she yelled, grabbing his shoulders. “Do not look at the water!”

  Sandara didn’t take time to respond to Kendrick’s puzzled look, but instead turned and sudde
nly yelled out to one of the Queen’s attendants: “Sound the bells! Warn the people! Do not look down! No matter what! GO!” She shoved the sailor, and he stumbled off, yelling the warning throughout the ship, and climbing the mast to sound the bells.

  Soon the bells started to toll, and shouts sounded all throughout the ships as they burst into chaos.

  “What has gotten into you!?” Kendrick asked.

  But Sandara was busy studying the others; she looked around and saw many people rushing to the railings, on all the ships, leaning over and looking down at the light waters. Desperate to save them, she ran to the ship’s side, grabbed people from behind, and yanked them back before they could look over.

  Kendrick saw what she was doing, and he joined in, and together, they managed to save quite a few of them.

  But they could not reach them all, and for the others, for those who did not listen, it was too late. Sandara watched with horror as one person after another, staring down at the waters, turned to stone.

  They fell over the rail, one after the next, the air filled with the sounds of stones splashing into the water, as they plummeted one after another into the sea of death.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Volusia sat on her marble throne, impatient, impetuous, staring back at the two common prisoners who stood shackled before her. Beyond them, in the distance, down below, there rose the chants of a hundred thousand of her citizens, squeezed into the coliseum, all cheering as the Razif was let loose in the arena. Volusia, not wanting to be distracted from the big moment, looked past these riffraff and down over their shoulders and saw the beast, bright red, nearly the size of an elephant, with three horns and a wide square face and jaw, and a hide as thick as a hundred swords, charging madly through the arena. The ground trembled as it charged in circles on the dirt floor, again and again, in a rage, looking for any victim.

  The crowd cheered wildly at the expectation of the blood sport that would follow.