The War of the Masters

Gazing upon Cyrus’s prone, mangled form brought flutters of panic through Terra’s stomach. Lucky, still alive and apparently unharmed, crawled out of his pocket and urged him to get up.

Get it together, Terra. You’ve only got a few seconds before you’re burned alive.

“Kendal, open up the door,” she commanded as calmly as she could. Cyrus’s father did as instructed. “Help me get him inside.”

A loud crash startled her. Part of the scorched rafters had caved in, collapsing atop the smoking wooden tables.

“NOW!” she cried fiercely.

Kendal knelt down and scooped up his son’s legs while Terra took hold of his shoulders. Together they carried him through the door and down the curving stone steps that followed. The little Leprechaun ran behind them, hopping down each stair as he tried to keep up.

If we can just get far enough away, the stone should keep the fire from spreading.

Another loud crash from the throne room paired with a boom of thunder. Terra’s heart felt like it was ready to explode out of her chest, but she pressed on until they reached the bottom of the bending stairwell.

Terra was surprised to see a small library with four shelves of books stacked to the ceiling. Another twisting staircase lay beyond, but the empty library was safe from the fire raging above.

Terra tried to speak, but realized her throat was too hot and sticky, and her lungs were full of smoke. After a couple coughs and clearing her throat, she tried again. “Let’s put him down here.”

The pair set Cyrus gently on the bare floor. Terra hovered above him, mere inches from his face, and exhaled a thick, cloying breath into his open mouth, renewing the Breath of the Masters. Terra felt all of her energy draining from her body, exhausting both her mind and muscles. But Cyrus’s bones set back into place and his wounds closed over in a matter of seconds. Startled, Kendal took a step back from the miraculous recovery.

Cyrus sat up slowly, just as he’d done the other two times she’d given him the Breath. Looking around the small cellar, he asked, “How long was I out?”

“Only a few minutes. I—”

Lucky leapt down the final step, hacking and wheezing. “Don’t—worry,” he said in between heaving, gasping breaths. “I’m—here now!”

“We’re fine, Lucky,” Kendal replied. “The fight’s over.”

Lucky waved his index finger in the air and opened his mouth to say something, but he was still gasping too much to get the words out. Finally he threw his hand forward and doubled over, clutching his knees.

Steadily Cyrus rose to his feet and looked over the library. “Thanks, Terra. I’m just glad we’re all okay.”

“Me, too,” she said softly.

He gestured to the spiraling staircase. “What’s down the steps?”

“We don’t know yet,” Terra told him. “We wanted to make sure you were all right first.”

Cyrus nodded and made for the stairs. Terra scooped up Lucky and followed after him, with Kendal right behind.

The set of stairs branched in two different directions. Judging from the louder rain, Terra guessed the path to the right led outside, intended as a quick getaway if the Magistrate ever needed to escape.

Taking the left path, the team stumbled into a tiny dungeon, even smaller than the one in Candore.

A lone soldier stood guard, but the instant he saw the trio descend into the room, he dropped his sword and held both hands into the air, signaling his surrender.

“Back away from the cell,” Cyrus commanded in a threatening voice.

The guard did as he was told, and the trio saw a man in a decorated naval uniform chained by his wrists from the ceiling.

“Get him down, now!” Kendal told the guard, his seething tone far surpassing the menace his son had just used. Terra could see the unmitigated rage in his eyes at the sight of what they’d done to his closest friend.

The soldier nervously walked over and fumbled with a set of keys before finding the right one. The Admiral collapsed onto Kendal’s shoulders.

“I got you, old friend,” he said quietly.

Terra smiled and glanced over the rest of the dungeon. Between the prison bars of the only cell, she spotted an old woman with a wrinkled nose and long silvery hair.

“Grandmother?” Terra asked, hardly believing her eyes.

The old woman looked up from her cell, as if just now noticing they were here. “Terra. Oh, I’ve been expecting you.”

Cyrus raised an eyebrow at the strange reply but Terra thought nothing of it. “Cyrus, Kendal, this is—”

“Hey!” Lucky interrupted, still in her hand. “What about me?”

“Right, sorry. Cyrus, Kendal, and Lucky, this is my grandmother, Jalinth.”

“Guard!” Cyrus yelled, startling Terra. “Unlock that cell at once!”

The soldier scurried over and complied with his request. Jalinth walked out of the cell and Cyrus ordered the guard inside, locking him in.

“Thanks for coming . . .” the Admiral mumbled. His voice was strained, and from the looks of things he was barely conscious.

“Any time,” Kendal said. “But we’ll catch up later. Right now we need to get out of here.”

“Ouch!” Jalinth said as she popped her back. “Should have done that a lot sooner!”

It had been a long time since Terra talked to her grandmother, and she’d forgotten some of the older woman’s unusual habits.

“Grandma Jalinth, we came to rescue you. The war—”

“Hush, hush, I know,” Jalinth said, waving a dismissive hand. Then she pointed to Cyrus. “I read his mind already to catch myself up.”

Cyrus snorted but didn’t say anything.

“Grandmother, you know you’re not supposed—”

“Don’t worry, dear, I know the solution!” Jalinth continued, animatedly. “Yes, yes, it’s simple! We’ll call a family meeting in six months, held at your castle in the Unknown Regions!”

“Wait—what?”

“Yep. That should take care of things. You’re welcome, darling.”

As Terra tried to collect her thoughts, Cyrus objected, “Won’t that be a perfect opportunity for the older siblings to kill her?”

“Oh, of course not, silly!” Jalinth chastised. “That would break the rules! No, they’ll show up and you’ll have a chance to say whatever’s on your mind. Hopefully, you’ll have more to say by then than you do now!”

Cyrus looked dumbfounded.

Good. Then it’s not just me, Terra thought.

Before Terra could think of another question, Jalinth said, “I’ll go get that set up. I hope you’re excited; I have a wonderful surprise for you all. Well, see ya later!” The old woman darted down the opposite passage and out of the castle with surprising speed and spryness.

Cyrus turned to Terra with an open mouth and stammered, “What just happened?”

Terra scratched her head. “I wish I knew. Come on. Let’s get out of this dreadful castle.”

Thanks to the hidden entrance into Cordova Castle, Cyrus and the others were able to sneak out and back into the city without a fight. Eager to get out of the freezing rain, Cyrus opened the double doors to the church. To his surprise, the building was packed and bristling with conversation. From the looks of things, word had spread that the missing people had been found, and friends and relatives had come to reclaim those they lost. The tables brimmed with food, nourishing the half-starved escapees.

“How did you know the people would be safe here?” his father asked as they walked inside.

“Raiden and I met a priest named Gideon. Somehow he already knew about us, and offered this building as a sanctuary.”

Kendal grinned. “So, you’ve met Gideon, eh?”

Cyrus was surprised. “You know him?”

Kendal nodded. “Your mother and I have had similar conversations with him over the years. I’m sure you’ll see him again.”

“Cyrus!” Raiden called, seeing his new friend. He walked over to speak with them, a huge grin on his face. “What happened in there?”

Cyrus relayed the story, though Lucky interrupted him to tell the part about his victory over the butcher.

“Why did the Magistrate capture you to begin with?” Raiden asked the Admiral.

“I suspected there was more to the agreement with General Dameon then he was letting on, so I did a little investigating. It seems the Magistrate provided captured citizens to Dameon for his sick experiments in exchange for a regiment of soldiers to aid some movement in Koh’Lah’s underground.”

“Minous,” Cyrus chimed in. “The Liberation Movement is trying to overthrow the Senate.”

“But why did Bergion send me to guard the Magistrate?” Raiden asked.

“If the resistance succeeds in its takeover,” Joel explained, “the alliance with Candore will fall, and Bergion will have free reign to take the last country of the west.”

Raiden scowled. “So, I was just a pawn in a plot to seize control of Koh’Lah.”

“But Dameon never gave the Magistrate his promised soldiers,” Cyrus pointed out.

“I know,” said the Admiral. “That’s because Dameon is secretly one of the right-hand men of Prince Lozarrik of Candore. And he doesn’t want Koh’Lah to fall.”

“Lozarrik,” Cyrus said, turning to Terra. “Isn’t that the name of your eldest brother? The one who sent the Bloody Bones after us?”

“One and the same,” Terra confirmed.

“That explains why Dameon betrayed the Magistrate, but what were the experiments for? What do they plan to do with an army of those mutated creatures?”

The Admiral sighed. “Before I could find out, Hispen had me imprisoned.”

“So we have yet to learn Lozarrik’s true purposes for the alliance,” Cyrus finished.

“I’m afraid so.”

From his peripherals, Cyrus noticed Keira heading their way, parting through the crowd.

“I’m glad you made it out safe, Cyrus,” she said by way of greeting.

“You, too.”

“And now I must honor my word and travel with you at your side,” she pledged.

Cyrus was taken aback. “Um, only if you’re sure that’s what you want,” he told her. “I’m not holding you to that promise.”

“I’m sure this is where I need to be, if you’ll have me,” she said confidently.

Cyrus grinned. “Then welcome aboard. Keira, I’d like you to meet Joel, Raiden, Lucky, Terra, and my father, Kendal.”

After a quick round of greetings, Keira locked her eyes on Raiden. “You were the one who helped us escape the castle,” she murmured.

Raiden’s cheeks turned slightly red. “Um, yeah,” he said sheepishly.

“Thank you so much,” Keira said, shaking his hand, “I owe you my life.”

“It was my pleasure,” Raiden mumbled, not quite meeting her gaze.

Cyrus suppressed a grin. Looks like Raiden might have a crush!

Turning to his father, he said, “Would you mind escorting Terra and the others back to the inn? I’m sure she’s anxious to check on T’Saunté.”

“Of course,” Kendal replied, “but aren’t you coming?”

“Not yet. I’ve got a promise to keep.”

Cyrus walked into the Sidewinder with a heavy heart. His hand patted his pocket, making sure the silver pendant was still inside. He spotted the couple he was looking for and slowly made his way over with a pounding heart and trembling unease.

Cyrus swallowed hard. His dry throat cracked as he said, “Hello.”

“Hello,” the husband said politely. “Have you already been to the castle?”

Thanks to the Breath of the Masters, the wounds Cyrus had suffered during the mission were gone, but the tears in his leather armor still marked the fact that he had recently been in combat.

Unable to force the words out, Cyrus only nodded. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his life.

“I . . . I found your son,” Cyrus said in a quivering voice, wishing right now he was facing the Alpha Dragon rather than this. “He . . . he had already passed away when I got there.”

Tears blossomed in the mother’s eyes. Her hands cupped over her mouth and nose, and she started to sob. The father stood tall and straight, unmoving save for the tremor in his lower lip.

Cyrus, trying and failing to ward off the tears in his own eyes, retrieved the silver pendant and held it out in his hand. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured so softly it was almost a whisper.

The mother sank to her knees, crying. The father reluctantly took his son’s pendant from Cyrus, his eyes so mournful they were difficult to look at.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there soon enough,” Cyrus said in a choked voice. “But I swear to you, I will find the man responsible . . . and make sure it won’t happen to anyone else.”

The father, still coming to terms with the shock, managed to say, “Thank you,” before a single tear streamed down his cheek.

Cyrus didn’t know what else to do. What else he could do.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated one last time. Then he left the struggling parents to deal with their grief.

“All done,” the blacksmith proclaimed, showing Cyrus his finished piece of armor. The front was still the heavy metal breastplate he had found on the island, only now it had a dark leather back to it. Cyrus fastened the breastplate over the armor he already wore.

“Thank you,” he said more sullenly than he intended. The blacksmith had done an excellent job, but the images of the grieving couple were still fresh in his mind. He doubted he would sleep tonight.

“One more thing before you go,” the owner said. He disappeared into the back of the store, then returned with a special whip.

“I came across this when I settled down here,” he explained, showing the silver contoured handle to Cyrus. The rest of the whip was weaved from two leather pieces, one black, one red, resembling the pattern of a snake skin.

Remaining silent, Cyrus awaited further explanation.

“I’d like you to have it.”

Cyrus blinked twice, sure that he’d misheard the man. “What?”

“I heard you were the one who saved the kids.”

Cyrus cringed as the image of Dustin’s mutated corpse sprang unbidden to his mind.

“My nephew was one of the young men they took,” the owner continued, oblivious to Cyrus’s thoughts. “He’s back safe and sound thanks to you.”

Cyrus’s heart leapt at the fact that he had brought back someone’s son, but the feeling was gone just as fast as it came. He still couldn’t shake the notion that he’d failed. The gift felt hollow to him, like it was something he didn’t deserve.

“I can’t accept this,” he said after a long silence.

“Please, it would mean a lot to me. It’s a great whip. I wish I could give you more, but I’m barely making it as it is.”

“I—”

“Please. For my brother, if not for me.”

Cyrus sighed, finally relenting. “All right.”

The blacksmith smiled.

Terra was relieved to see T’Saunté’s wing recovering. The oozing black venom had receded from most of his body, and only his right wing still bore the signs of injury.

“The venom’s been completely neutralized,” Naabrea stated. “Just make sure he doesn’t put too much stress on it and he’ll be back to full health in a couple days.”

“Thank you,” Terra said gratefully. “How can I repay you?”

Naabrea shook her head. “Bringing Jalinth back safely is all the pay I need.”

“There is something I’m curious about, though,” Terra said slowly, not sure how to approach the topic. When my father assumed the throne, you remained loyal to Jalinth, even with how eccentric she is. Why?”

Naabrea let out a hearty laugh. “Yes, your grandmother is quite peculiar, and that can be off-putting to a lot of people. But you just have to know how to take her. I guess after so many battles together, I’ve grown to trust her as much as she can trust me.” She shrugged. “Some day you might understand.”

“Actually, I think I already do,” Terra replied, more to herself than anyone.

The door opened, and Cyrus strode into the room. He was wearing his breastplate again, only this time it fit snugly around his chest instead of drooping awkwardly. Terra took a second glance, noting that it not only made him look braver . . . it made him look more handsome to boot.

“I’d best be going, dearie,” Naabrea said as she gave Terra a good-bye hug. “Best of luck to you on your journeys.”

“And on yours,” Terra replied.

As the older woman left, the Princess allowed herself to yawn. It had been a tiring day, and sleep would be nice . . .

Unbeknownst to her, a tiny creature lay hidden in the plant by the windowsill, watching their every move, taking note of their conversations for when it would report back to her eldest brother, Lozarrik . . .