Seeker of the Four Winds: A Galatia Novel Page 11

  “We’ve been in tough situations before and got out of them.”

  “The charisma is our ace in the hole, Josie. It’s the reason I know what’s up deck. How good are you at Mind Wanders?”

  “Not good at all,” she said. “That’s a skill that doesn’t develop until later in life, if at all.”

  “So you’ve been told, but it isn’t true. My father had been teaching me the nuances of Mind Wanders long before the earthquake. I’ve been practicing opening and closing the Excito Fortitudo for years, but up until now it was more just for fun. Now that it might be the difference between life and death, I’ve taken it to a new level. I’ve explored this entire vessel from top to bottom using the Mind Wander. By the time this mission is over, I plan to be the best Mind Wanderer in all of Galatia.”

  “My, my, aren’t we feeling cocky this morning,” Josie teased, but the truth was she found this side of Lars irresistible and charming.

  “I could break out of these chains right now if I wanted to, but even with charisma, a Galatian’s strength is no match for a Gargo. And there’s half a dozen of them up there.”

  “If we work together, we can take ‘em.”

  “Josie, Josie, Josie.” He shook his head, using that irritating fatherly tone again. “I worry about the way you rush headfirst into things without thinking them through.”

  “What do you mean—I think things through very thoroughly. How do you think I convinced Red to let us come on the mission?”

  “You tied the Seeker to your wrist so thoroughly no one could remove it.”

  “Exactly. That took foresight.”

  “And later on you cried over the possibility you might have to wear it forever—something you hadn’t considered. That’s what I call not thinking things through.”

  “Sometimes we have to make our own opportunities, Lars.”

  “And sometimes we need to wait for opportunity to present itself, Josie.”

  She waved him off. “Tell me more about controlling the charisma.”

  “Don’t change the subject because you feel like you’re losing the argument.”

  “Don’t confuse losing the argument with losing interest. Back to what you said about opening portals.”

  “All right,” Lars sighed. “Portals it is then. My portal exists right about here.” He pounded his breastbone with his knuckles. With a rattling of chains, he reached over like he was going to touch her chest, but his finger paused in second thought just over her heart. “And yours is about there. When we open them, a power outside of ourselves comes flowing in.”

  “When I was little, my father told me that charisma is a gift of the Holy Spirit. My mom doesn’t believe in that kind of stuff though. She says the power is a new sense brought about through a leap in evolution.” She gave a mournful sigh. “Since you told me about the discovery of the Excito Fortitudo, I have to admit that my mom’s theory seems more plausible.”

  “You sound disappointed. Were you hoping the religious explanation was the right one?”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged. “I guess I just like the Christian notion of a personal savior, someone who cares, and isn’t just a cosmic vending machine where you drop in a good deed like a coin and out rolls a prize.”

  “My grandma says that the sun shines on believers and non-believers alike. Regardless of our beliefs, we all enjoy His gifts.”

  “That appears to be true,” she agreed, eyes reflecting thoughtfully inward, “but what’s the point of trying to be good, if the bad get the same rewards? I like to think that God is up there taking notes and taking names. And I’m totally cool with the biblical end of the world, where the dead rise from their graves, and Jesus sits in a cloud dividing the goats from the sheep, sending the good to heaven, and the bad to hell. Because without heaven and hell, our lives would be incredibly unfair.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re saying, Josie. Do you believe in God or not?”

  “I believe in justice.”

  “Let me rephrase that—were you upset when you learned there was a physical explanation for the charisma?”

  “If the physical existence of the entire universe doesn’t negate the possibility of God for me—why would the existence of the Excito Fortitudo?”

  “I was hoping you would see it that way.” Lars leaned forward with an excited look on his face as if he had just discovered they belonged to the same religion sect, instantly deepening the relationship. “As our eyes open us to light, the ears open us to sound, the nerves open us to touch—this new organ opens us to the energy flowing from the ocean of life.”

  “I’ve seen that ocean,” Josie said, feeling dreamy. “I’ve skimmed its mystical surface, so I have to believe there’s a place and a power that defies scientific explanation. I wish I knew how to make it work the way you do.”

  “Make it work?” he laughed. “That like saying the ship that sets down in the sea makes the waves and controls the currents. No, I don’t make it do anything. Once I set down in its waters, all I do is adjust my own sails and ride the waves.”

  “But you control the portal, so in a way, you control the flow—right?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Can anybody control it?”

  “Some of the older folks are good at it, but my dad says nobody completely controls it. The ocean of life is still a great mystery waiting to be explored. I can teach you more,” Lars offered. “How to tap its strength at will...if you want me to.”

  “Of course I want you to,” Josie said.

  He reached across the aisle with his hands upturned. She slipped hers into his. “Now, close your eyes and listen to my voice.” She complied. “Trust me to be your teacher and your guide. Visualize us climbing the ladder to freedom. We walk across the wooden deck, floating toward the water, under the moonlight. We’re walking over the river now and to a bank. Up, up, the hill rises through the long grasses. At the crest of the hill our feet leave the ground and we float up, up into the air, toward the misty clouds, toward the sun and the moon. Their rays turn from white, to gold, to blue, to violet. You see the colors coming, flowing in waves like the ocean rolling over the land. From where do they come? How is it that the roll on without end? They come from the center of creation. The power flows from a place beyond space and time. Can you see the waves, Josie?”

  “I can see them, Lars,” she gasped as viscous waves of light rolled toward her under a tangerine sky. “I really can.”

  “The waves are coming closer—your hands go out in reception.”

  “Come,” Lars’s voice blended with a sound like a didgeridoo, low and like the wind through a hollow cavern. “Josie, let the secret desires of your soul stretch forth—let the waves wash over you, let them fill you up. Yes, open the doorway wider.”

  The waves were thicker than water, yet more ethereal, they billowed like a huge flag striped with the colors of the rainbow. As they carried her away, her body...no, her soul...was filled with incredible delight. This was more than evolution at work here. She felt as if she was crossing the divide between the heaven and earth.

  “Now, open your eyes.” Afraid of losing the vision, she refused. “Open your eyes and see the inside of the ship. The power will still be within you, but your sight will return to the physical plane.”

  When she flipped open her lids, for a moment the ocean remained in front of her, but it quickly faded to dark brown—the wooden walls of the ship. How disappointing, but she felt the power buzzing beneath her skin. The doorway within was still open. The waves were still coming, but the intensity had subdued.

  “While the strength flows within you,” Lars said, “you can tap it at will. Give the chain a yank and prepare to be amazed.”

  They were talking in English, so the other slaves had no idea what they were saying, and weren’t paying much attention. Gliding her fingers along the chain holding her to the wall, she gave a little tug. Not expecting much—after all, she had tried to pull it free a million times already—this tim
e the metal plate came out of the wall, bolts and all.

  “Holy crap,” she said in wide-eyed wonder. “I’m the Incredible Hulk!”

  “Don’t get too excited,” Lars said dryly. “A Gargo could do that too, and there’s six of them on deck, not to mention dozens of armed humanoids.”

  She put the plate back into the wall, but it was nice to know she could pull it out at a moment’s notice. Despite the fact that they had to delay their escape until the right moment, she felt optimistic. An important threshold had been crossed. She had purposefully called upon the charisma’s strength and it had come. The possibilities were staggering.

  Chapter Eighteen

  (Prince Loyl of the House of the White Rose)

  The curse had made its way up to Loyl’s elbows. His skin felt like it was being eaten away by insects, just as Hogard had described. He grimaced with every bump of the horse. Part of him just wanted to stop riding, curl up in a ball, and whimper like a baby, but a good leader sat straight in the saddle, no matter the discomfort. At least the sensation was confined to his hands and forearms. He couldn’t fathom what the poor Bulwark must be going through. The boast ring had already eaten one of Hogard’s horns down to the nub. The wound had spread over his face and filled his eyes, blinding him.

  Loyl chastised himself for not recognizing the magic in the artifacts. Witchcraft and sorcery had been outlawed long before his birth, so his firsthand experience with magic was scant, but he still should have recognized the signs. The bones, the dust, the images in the fire—how could he have been so ignorant? At least he had tossed the cursed candy.

  Rolf had tethered Hogard’s horse to his own and was guiding him through the forest. Insects landed on the poor Bulwark’s thinning fur, biting him without mercy. But Loyl was just as worried about Lindsey. Raging red blisters had spread had traveled up her arms and now covered her neck and chest.

  Maintaining a confident persona was getting more difficult by the hour. He and Dante had gone downriver to search for Lars and Josie, but their own affliction had forced them to abandon their efforts. Unable to swim, Lars and Josie had little chance. Even if the missing pair had made it out of the Kalida’s raging waters, towns in these parts where they could take refuge were sparse.

  Despite his growing despondency, Loyl pressed on, leading the squad into Blue River Junction. The town had started out as a haven for fur traders and gold prospectors, but it had grown into a respectable place with merchants, families and outlying farms. Close to five thousand people lived within its borders, but visitors were still a curiosity. If they didn’t find a magic slayer there, the Bulwark was going to die for sure, but sooner or later, the curse would eat all of them down to the bone.

  The brick archway displayed words formed in iron, Welcome to Blue Junction. Dark wooden buildings with thatched roofs lined the main road, which circled around the community well. Women were there now, drawing up a large wooden bucket. An inviting two-story inn with a saloon on the ground floor waited at the end of the road. Loyl had stayed in this town many times on his way to conduct his father’s business, but always with an honor guard of the finest Regalan archers. Today the townsfolk took one look at his Bulwark companion, with the black goo spreading over his face, and fled, covering their faces with whatever fabric they had handy.

  Doors lining the dusty road slammed shut as the townsfolk scattered. Window shutters were closed. By the time Red Squad reached the well, a mob of villagers brandishing shovels, pitchforks, swords and rocks had coalesced about twenty feet from Loyl and his squad, shouting epithets like go home, let the devils get cha, do your dying someplace else! The mob parted to allow a greying Commoner in silky blue tights and a maroon tunic speak for the town across the imposed divide.

  “Plague or curse?” the old Commoner asked.

  “Will my answer make a difference?” Prince Loyl shot back.

  “Nope. Three retired magic slayers live due east, two day’s walk by foot, faster on horseback. We’ll ask you to continue on your way. Now.”

  “Please, my Bulwark friend won’t last that long on the road. Let me set him up in an inn, while one of my companions fetches the slayer.”

  The mob behind the old Commoner surged forward.

  Dante and Rolf drew their swords. Lindsey lined up her pistol.

  Prince Loyl held up his hand and straightened in his saddle. Although Regalans took pride in remaining civilized no matter the situation, his hands shook with rage.

  “We will leave.” His eyes hardened to steel. “Pray that I never ascend the throne because I give you my solemn word, now and forever, Blue River Junction is no friend of Regala D’Nora.”

  Prince Loyl spat on the ground at the foot of the crowd’s spokesman, turned his horse around, and rode out of town with the squad following behind him, leaving the residents of Blue River Junction glancing nervously at one another. “Uh-oh,” he heard one of them say as they rode out of town. “I think that was one of King Doyl’s sons.”

  For the next mile, the members of Red Squad were eyeing Prince Loyl almost as nervously as the people in town had, so he decided to give them a history lesson.

  “One hundred and twenty years ago, an army of Regalan soldiers, the best Regala D’Nora had to offer, died defending Blue River Junction from the Slivens. One of them was my great-great-uncle. And this is how they repay us? My father will be even more furious than I.”

  “Commoners are a lot like humans. They tend to have a short collective memory,” Dante said. “Not that I’m excusing their actions, but the people of Blue River probably don’t remember what happened back then.”

  “Their memory is long when it suits them,” Prince Loyl spoke through clenched teeth, “but the truth about what happened is eternal.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  (Josephine Rose Albright)

  Josie, Lars and the other prisoners on the slave ship were given two bushels of peas to pop out of their pods. As they shelled, she felt the barge slow down. The slaves went quiet, nervously eyeing the light-filled grate on the ceiling.

  “Look!” Lars pointed excitedly to the pendant floating above Josie’s wrist. The Seeker was shifting to starboard—directly east. Since boarding the ship, the homing stone had always pointed southeast, slightly right of the bow. “We’re passing it!” she cried out with excitement. “We’re passing the map!”

  As she yanked at her metal collar, the Seeker continued to arc back toward the stern. “Holy crap, Lars! Look at it! It’s tugging in the opposite direction. Quick, somebody, anybody, what latitude is this?”

  Of course, nobody knew. Lars stood, eyes boring holes through the grate toward the skies as if he were contemplating making a break then and there.

  “Where are we?” Josie cried out to the slaves, shaking the girl next to her. “What’s the closest town?”

  “Probably Tectonia, but I don’t know where we are any more than you do.” The girl pushed Josie’s hands away, face expressing her annoyance. “Now let go of me.”

  Josie let go, giving a frustrated sigh.

  Just then three crewmen, burly Commoners covered with primitive black tattoos of naked ladies and skulls, came down the ladder. Her heart skipped a beat when they unhooked her chain from the wall. She looked to Lars for direction—had they lost their chance or was this the opportunity they were waiting for? One of the crew pushed Lars down onto the bench. “Stay back, slave,” he growled.

  Lars’s face had turned an ashen color as he watched them take her away. Josie’s knees felt weak; could the guards be taking her up to be sold? Usually, they were all brought up together.

  Instead of taking her up the ladder, they led her like a dog through the galley, where the smell of cooked cabbage hit her nose. The group squeezed past the two cooks at the stove. The blazing fire made the galley even hotter than the slave room.

  The sailors shoved her onto a stool by a thick butcher block top covered with dents, scratches and dark stains. Two other crewmates were standing
beside it, one of them with a machete. A large bucket of squirming rainbow fish sat on the floor near the table. Uneasy and confused, Josie wondered if they were going to make her gut the fish.

  “Gimme your arm,” one of the sailors ordered. “Selon Trel is on board and he wants the bracelet.” When Josie held her wrist protectively to her chest, he impatiently flicked his fingers. “I said gimme your arm. Shore leave don’t come around every day, so let’s get this floating bucket docked, and we can be on our way.”

  When she refused, he grabbed her forearm and forced it flat against the table. The man with the machete moved to the edge of the table. She squealed like a wolf cub caught in a trap, realizing what they were going to do.

  “Orders is orders,” one of the sailors said, holding up his own arm which ended in a stump. “Lost mine to a Sliven. The worst part was learning to wipe my ass with the other hand.”

  “Anybody want to go to the Saucy Gal Saloon when we’re done?” another sailor asked.

  “That’s clear on the other side of Tectonia!” a Commoner with rotten gray teeth complained. “No snatch is worth that long of a walk when there’s perfectly good ones waiting at the gate.”

  Tectonia? Josie’s ears perked up. She could almost feel the map clutched in her hot little hands. If only she could escape with both of them intact.

  Open the Excito...a voice inside her head advised. Like flexing a muscle, she willed the portal over her heart to open. Immediately, her body responded. She felt the warmth flow under hear breastbone.

  The sailor raised his machete, lining it up between her elbow and wrist.

  The charisma exploded in the center of her chest. A lightning storm traversed her nervous system. In a flash, she yanked her arm free just before the machete embedded itself in the table. Everything she learned in combat training, and from Lars, came together in an instant. She flipped the table over into two sailors. Cartilage crunched beneath her palm as she crushed one sailor’s nose. A man rushed her from the side. Her elbow found his ribcage.