Dark Swan Comic 1-4
Alea stepped up beside Orj. “But he’s been imprisoned for two months! He and the land are both suffering from being apart. What good is it being freed of the curse if our land is simply going to die off this way?”
“If it makes no difference then,” said the guard, “I’m sure Her Majesty would be happy to return the Winter Enchantment to you.”
I heard no more because my guards finally managed to push me through the bottleneck. I was taken without incident to my cell, but as the guards unlocked it, I glanced at the other closed doors in the hallway. I knew Dorian was there somewhere. Was the Hemlock King as well? These were the “nicer” chambers, after all. How many monarchs were imprisoned around me? It may have been egotistical presuming all these guards and magic users were just for me. Varia couldn’t maintain her subjugated kingdoms without the monarchs occasionally bonding with the land, but keeping them apart for great lengths of time certainly created a new element of vulnerability that she could manipulate. She also now had a hostage system that probably worked well to keep the conquered kingdoms in line. Most gentry loved their rulers with fierce devotion and, as Orj had shown, would go to considerable lengths for them.
As soon as I was locked up and alone again, I summoned Volusian with the makeshift wand.
“Are there other monarchs locked up in this corridor?” I demanded. “Aside from me and Dorian?”
“There are other shining ones here, yes,” Volusian said. “Ones I can sense considerable power from, though they are forced to wear their iron, even when locked up. They apparently don’t have the luxuries you do.”
I sighed and sat down on the cot. “I might as well be in iron for all the good I can do! That bitch was right. She has everything, and I have nothing. And now she’s threatening to destroy my friends, my kingdoms, Isaac and Ivy... .”
My heart lurched at that last one. I valued my own life, certainly, but I never went into any of these crazy Otherworldly missions without the understanding that I might not come back. It was something I’d had to come to terms with a long time ago. I didn’t relish the thought of my traveling companions dying—especially Jasmine and Pagiel—but I knew they too had accepted certain dangers.
The twins? They were a different matter. They were innocents. They had nothing to do with any of this, and just thinking about Varia hurting them filled me with a mix of rage and fear. With the prophecy taking backseat to the blight, I’d thought Isaac and Ivy were out of danger, but it seemed, once again, someone wanted to use them against me.
“There are guards and magic users out there,” I murmured, thinking aloud. “Obviously enough to subdue an escape—or so Varia thinks. But she can’t be thinking past a single person trying to break out. What about all of us? If we managed to free the other monarchs here, we’d have a force of some of the most powerful gentry in this world. The guards here couldn’t stand against that. This palace couldn’t stand against that. Plus, there’d be such a commotion that my friends in the dungeon would probably be low priority.”
I thought I detected an eager glint in Volusian’s eyes, though his face otherwise remained typically smooth. “As much as I would love nothing more than to start laying waste to this place, I must point out that if my mistress truly wishes to lift the blight, you should probably first make sure you know where the talismans are. Your conquest of Varia will be more effective if you can strip her of those.”
“I agree. Except, we have no way of finding out. I mean, they’re probably in this palace, but it’s huge! Damn. I wish you could wander freely. We need someone to scope out this facility.” My breath caught as an idea came to me. I straightened up. “Volusian! Go to Dorian’s cell right now. You have to give him this message... .”
I quickly relayed it, and Volusian vanished. I bit my lip the entire time he was gone, praying Dorian hadn’t been taken to Varia yet. Why hadn’t I thought of this sooner? If I’d missed my chance, I didn’t know what we would do. I just hoped Varia had to take a bonbon break or have her dogs’ hair restyled between sessions. Even if Volusian did make it in time, this idea was still pretty shaky.
I jumped up when Volusian reappeared. “Was he still there?”
“Yes, mistress. I relayed your message. The Oak King said he would try what you asked and idiotically asked what he wouldn’t do for you.” A distinct look of distaste crossed his features. “He also said to tell you ... that he isn’t surprised at all that you’re planning a way out. He says he has never once doubted you and has the utmost faith in whatever you do.”
I almost smiled. “Boy, relaying something that sentimental was pretty terrible for you, wasn’t it?”
Volusian didn’t respond.
The truth was, Dorian’s warm words had unsettled me too—but probably for very different reasons from Volusian. Still wanting to conserve the power it took to keep him within the Yew Land, I sent Volusian away and then stretched out on my cot to wait. I didn’t know how long it would take to get results from my plan—if I’d even get them. I was also worried about Varia acting on her threats to start killing off my companions in the dungeon. I could only hope that like any good super villain, she’d give me fair warning and try to kill them in front of me in order to force my hand. That wasn’t a fate I wanted, but at least I could be reasonably confident they weren’t dead already.
Hours passed. The guards brought me a meager meal, again making me wonder what those in lesser accommodations had. I didn’t think Varia had reason to poison me, but I still summoned Volusian briefly to see if he detected anything magical about the food. He didn’t, so I took the risk of eating in order to keep my strength up.
I was just finishing the food up when something caught my eye in the tiny window near the ceiling. Spots, Alea’s falcon, had just landed. With a bit of maneuvering, he worked his way through the bars so that he could look down at me but otherwise didn’t leave the sill.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I breathed. “You actually made it.”
My gamble had been that the Hemlock people would still be hanging around the throne room, hoping for an audience with Varia. In the message I’d sent with Volusian, I’d told Dorian to see if he could manage any private words with Alea when he went to see the queen. There were guards everywhere, but if ever there was someone who could cause distraction and misdirection, it was Dorian. If he pulled it off, I’d asked that he tell Alea to send her falcon to me. The only directions I had were to look for a small window on the third floor, but I figured Spots could fly from window to window in search of me—provided there were no enchantments on the windows. The entire plan had been tenuous, and yet, here I was, with a semi-intelligent falcon watching me expectantly.
“So, um, thanks for coming,” I said to Spots. He blinked and said nothing, not that I really could have expected otherwise. “Anyway. I know you have some connection to Alea. I don’t know if you relay messages through bird language or if she sees through your eyes, but I need you to convey something to her. Can you do that? Is there some sign you can give me?”
If staring without a sound was the way birds said, “Yes,” then Spots gave me a resoundingly affirmative answer.
“Okay.” I was starting to feel stupid. “I’ll just talk and hope this gets to her. Tell Alea that I have the means to free her king. I also know how to break Varia’s hold on all of us, but I need help. I know Alea and her people are willing to give in to Varia to keep their land safe, but if they work with me, I really believe we can overpower Varia and be free of her tyranny. Here’s the thing. Somewhere in this palace, there is a very heavily guarded room. I mean, there’s probably a bunch of rooms like that. The dungeons, Varia’s bedroom, her dogs’ kennel, whatever. But I feel like this is going to be really guarded. I don’t expect Alea to get anywhere near it, since I’m guessing subjects’ access only goes so far. That’s the thing. Alea probably won’t even see the masses of guards because this room is going to have a huge perimeter around it. That’s probably one clue. The other is that it won?
??t be obvious why it’s so guarded. Dungeons make sense. This won’t. So, if there’s any way she can figure out where this is at and let me know, that would be huge.”
I paused then, wondering about that last part. I was banking on the bird magically communicating my words to Alea. How hers would get back to me was less obvious. Well. That was a problem for later, and we had plenty of others before we reached that point.
“Having some idea of that place’s location will make a big difference when I bust out her king. And I will, by the way. Him and all the other captive monarchs. So, if she knows any other disgruntled emissaries from other lands, tell them to be ready for a huge coup in the next day or so.” Until that moment, I hadn’t realized I was truly going to stage one ... but, well, why else had I come here? “But again, the key is figuring out this stronghold of Varia’s. We can still stage a nasty rebellion, but the threat of the blight isn’t going to go away until we get to what she’s hiding.”
Spots groomed his foot. I wasn’t sure if he was simply listening and multitasking or had grown bored.
“Can you tell her that?”
For a moment, I thought nothing would happen, and then Spots made some kind of chirping noise. He worked his way back out through the bars and flew off.
“Well,” I remarked. “Not the weirdest thing I’ve ever done by far ... but it’s up there.” I then realized I was talking to myself and wondered if that was better or worse than speaking to a bird.
It was hard for me to sit still and wait. My nature usually required that I do something; it was why I’d had such a difficult time in Alabama. At least while there, I’d known my patience would pay off for the twins’ safety. Here, I was constantly pressed with the knowledge that every day meant more of Varia’s reign, more suffering in the blight, and more dangers for my friends.
As evening fell and my cell darkened, I summoned Volusian back. Maybe it was a trick of the lighting, but his appearance seemed more substantial now. “You can move around this hallway. I want you to go and talk to each of the monarchs and give them a heads-up on what’s going on. Tell them there may be a commotion soon and that we’ll be freeing them from their chains to go take on Varia and the blight once and for all. Let them know I’ll have more details when the time comes.” God, I hoped that was actually true. “Give them my description so they know I’m the one with instructions. And Dorian. Give them his description too. In fact, go to Dorian first and catch him up on everything. He may not know about our fellow cellmates. And tell him I talked to the bird.”
Volusian gave me a long-suffering look. “This may be a new low for me, mistress.”
“Hey, it’s necessary for the bigger plan. Besides, I figured you’d be all about getting closer to our endgame with Varia. I thought you wanted to prove something to these Yew people.”
His eyes narrowed. “Mistress, you have no idea just how much I want that.”
He vanished, and I was left alone again. I didn’t know how many monarchs were in the hall exactly, but it took a while for Volusian to make the rounds to them and Dorian. I had actually dozed off when my minion returned. Waking up to those red eyes in a dark room is not a fate I’d wish on anyone, not that I let him know how much it freaked me out.
“And?” I asked. “How’d it go? Did you talk to everyone?”
“Yes, mistress.”
“How many others are there besides Dorian and me?”
“There are five.”
Five. Somehow, I’d been hoping for a dozen or so. Still, five gentry with magic on par with Dorian and me were nothing to scoff at. We could do some serious damage to this place. “Did they say they’ll help?”
“Three were quite zealous. I believe they would have attempted an escape right then, with or without a plan. The other two have been here a considerable time. Their spirits are broken. They were listless in responses, seeming to have little hope that we could actually accomplish anything.”
An uneasy thought occurred to me. “They aren’t so desperate that they’ll report on me in some attempt to buy favor, are they?”
“I do not believe so, mistress. I believe they have simply given up altogether. Should the opportunity for revenge and escape arise, it’s possible they may regain their momentum.”
“Let’s hope so,” I muttered. We’d gone from five to three allies. I still thought those were good odds, but I preferred “overwhelming” to “good.”
“Also,” added Volusian, with what I was certain was a note of displeasure, “I have a message from the Oak King.”
“What’d he say?”
“He says that in addition to finding the talismans’ location, you should also consider that they will have some sort of magical protection on them. Finding them and defeating their guards may not be enough if there is a shield or enchantment in place that you don’t know how to defeat.”
“Excellent point—not that I should expect less from Dorian. Do you think that’s likely?”
“Almost certainly.”
“No spell’s permanent, of course. Someone powerful enough could blast through it—or several someones. And that’s the thing. She probably had multiple people helping set up these defenses, just like with the blight. This thing’s going to be a bitch to crack.”
Volusian considered. “Yes, but there is probably a trick or simpler way of undoing any protective magic around the gifts. No one wants to be locked out of their own spell, and she must get through her defenses occasionally to move new objects in.”
My head was hurting from all the growing complications. “So, there’s something else we have to figure out. Unless we can just make it work with brute magical force.”
“That is still an option,” he agreed.
“Thanks. You can go.”
I sighed and stretched back out on the bed, trying to figure out how I was going to stage a master escape plan when my allies consisted of a bunch of restrained prisoners, a spirit confined to a hallway, and a bird that may or may not understand me. Glancing over, I saw that Volusian was still standing there and watching me.
“What?” I asked. “Is there something else?”
“The Oak King had another message for you.”
“Oh? What was it?”
“He said ...” I again got that vibe of distaste from Volusian. “He said to tell you he misses you and takes comfort in knowing your room is close to his—though it’s still not nearly close enough. He says he will lie in bed tonight and imagine the distance between you is gone and that you are there with him.”
“My God ,” I said, nearly bursting out laughing. “I thought it was bad for you before.”
Volusian made no response. I tried to adopt some seriousness but knew I was grinning.
“Tell him that’s very sweet but awfully presumptuous, in light of our history.”
Volusian disappeared and returned about a minute later. “The Oak King says that in light of the current situation, he imagines you might be more open to such suggestions. He said—and I quote—‘Daring escapes do wonders for passion. What would ordinarily be deemed presumptuous might actually seem quite reasonable in troubled times. Perhaps the blight wouldn’t have been so cold, had we come to that conclusion sooner.’”
I scoffed. “Well, tell him that remains to be seen, seeing as we haven’t pulled off any daring escape yet.”
Volusian hesitated. “Mistress, I have never asked anything of you in my servitude. But now, I beg you this: do not make me keep passing these adolescent sentiments back and forth all night.”
“Fair enough,” I said, feeling a smile start to return. “Go ahead and tell Dorian that too. This is the last note you pass tonight. I need some sleep, and it takes too much power to keep you here.”
Volusian didn’t thank me—that would be asking too much—but he did look relieved. He vanished into the darkness and didn’t come back that night.
I tried to sleep in earnest, knowing I’d need my strength for whatever wacky mishaps were to come. Th
at’s easier said than done in enemy hands—especially for an insomniac like me—and I tossed and turned a fair amount. Sleep did finally come after a couple of hours, mercifully free of dreams. I didn’t wake until something pulled at my hair. At first, I shrugged it off in my sleepy state. Then, it happened again, a tug so painful I yelped and opened my eyes.
And found Spots the falcon staring at me, about two inches from my face.
“Jesus Christ!” I jumped up, certain my eyes were about to be pecked out. “Couldn’t you just squawk from the window? Or tap the wall with your beak?”
Spots made no reply, save to preen his wing.
“I assume you’re here for a reason,” I said. “But you probably can’t tell me.”
He looked back up at me and extended a leg. Peering closely, I saw a teeny-tiny roll of paper tied there. Carefully, unsure if he’d decide to gouge me with his claws, I removed the miniature scroll from his leg. The paper was very fine and delicate, and I was half afraid it would tear before I could unroll it. When I finally got a good look at it, I could see a handful of words scrawled in tiny writing:
ROOM IS UNDERGROUND. SCOUT IS INVESTIGATING.
Cryptic but promising overall, I decided. I was about to give the bird a return message when I suddenly heard the lock being opened on my door.
“Get out of here!” I told Spots. “Come back ... er, later.”
He was already up in the window before I could finish talking and wiggled his way out through the bars just as some guards entered. Their faces were grim. One jerked my hands forward while another bound them with chains.
“Her Majesty wants you. Now.”
For a moment, I thought the time I’d been dreading had come. Varia was going to give me some terrible ultimatum. Yet, something about her and her flair for the dramatic told me there would have been a lot of setup and fanfare. This had a hurried feel. An urgency, like something was wrong.
The feeling further intensified when I wasn’t marched to the throne room. Instead, I was taken to Varia’s own chambers, shoved roughly inside a posh sitting room done entirely in periwinkle velvet. Varia was there, lounging on a divan, looking as though she’d gotten out of bed in the last hour. She wore a robe that matched the room, as well as some furry slippers. Her brown hair was worn down but didn’t look like it had been brushed. She stayed in that reclined position, as though trying to present an unconcerned air, but the anger in her voice betrayed her when she saw me.