“Well, that didn’t take long,” said Kaine.
“Shut up!” hissed Sophia. “You’re supposed to be a silent brother, you idiot!” Raising her voice, she called out to the man outside, “I will need time to make myself and the brothers ready. We will come as quickly as possible!”
“Very well, but do not tarry. The King does not like to be kept waiting.” The sound of heavy footsteps walking away from the door filled the room, and soon all was silent again. Sophia punched Kaine in the arm, and Nightshade clapped him on the back of the head.
Trick chuckled and said, “I can’t believe it wasn’t me this time.”
“Me either,” said Nightshade.
Kaine grinned, but then turned serious. “I didn’t think we would make it inside the palace so easily. I had thought we would have more time to plan,” he said.
“Me too,” said Amaris. “I didn’t want to go inside without knowing what we were gonna do before we got there. This is hasty, and reckless.”
“Agreed,” said Nightshade. “This is dangerous.”
“We’re not gonna do anything yet,” said Trick, which surprised them all. “We’re gonna be good little silent monks, keep our heads down and our mouths closed, and take notes in our heads. It’s a reconnaissance mission,” he said.
Kaine grinned and said, “Trick, you don’t always have good ideas, but when you do, they’re very good. Sophia, it’s going to be up to you again. You’re gonna have to sell this. Best get your story straight now. Where have you come from? How long have you been on the road? Why here, and why now? Ceres is a curious man, and he’s going to want to know everything. Keep it as close to the truth as possible. That’ll make it less likely that he’ll catch you in a lie.”
Sophia nodded, and then cast the spell that changed their clothes back into the monk robes. They all lined up behind her and walked downstairs, out of the inn. It was a clear and bright day, and they found the palace easily. It wasn’t long before they were standing in the throne room, with Ceres looking down at them.
“It has been many years since we’ve received visitors here in Calymnia, Holy Sister. Who are you, and why have you come here?”
“I am Sister Sophia of the Order of Eternal Light. Our monastery at Tarys was overrun by undead during the time of troubles. Since then, I have been wandering the world, searching for hope.”
“Hope?” asked Ceres with a slight laugh. “Hope died long ago, Sister. The world has been lost. The only light in the world is here in Calymnia.”
“I believe that hope exists wherever people have the courage to stand against the darkness,” said Sophia.
“So tell me, Sister. Have you found such people outside of our barrier?”
“Very few, and very far between, milord. That’s why it has taken me so long to come here. I had hoped to bring you more soldiers. I did not wish to show up with only myself and a few silent brothers,” she said.
“And yet, this is precisely what you have done. You’ve brought me more mouths to feed, and you have nothing we need. I don’t know what you are looking for, but you shall not take it from us. If you were anyone else, I would have you killed. However, since you are a Holy Sister, you may stay in my kingdom for one week. If you and your ‘silent brothers’ are not gone by daybreak on the eighth day, we will escort you to the barrier by force. Now, begone with you. Take care not to disturb our peace here, or our welcome will be cut short.”
Sophia turned on her heel and walked quickly out of the throne room. The guards sneered at her as she walked past, but she didn’t respond. Things were bad enough. She didn’t see any reason to make the situation worse.
Back in the room, she couldn’t stop pacing. “Of all the ignorant, arrogant, assholes! “What an unbelievable, unimaginable ass! A Holy Sister, right in front of him, and he just throws me out like trash!”
“That’s Ceres for you,” said Kaine. “He never could see past his own sense of self-importance. I guess we’re lucky he didn’t throw us all in the dungeon or execute us on the spot. Did anyone notice anything useful while we were in there?”
“Not me,” said Nightshade. “But, uhhh…where’s Trick?”
The small mouse scurried across the throne room floor, unnoticed by the people present in the room. The king and his guests were focused on their interaction, and the guards were too busy pretending to be disinterested in the conversation at hand. Heated discussions are a thief’s best friend, a fact which Trick knew well. He had often found that the best time to disappear was when the shouting started.
Once he got out of the throne room, he shifted again, and took on the form of an ordinary house cat. Whereas a mouse or rat might cause someone to scream or squeal, cats were generally considered benign, and so people rarely raised the alarm when they saw one. Cats could go just about anywhere.
One place they could not go, however, was the kitchen. Trick knew this, of course, but the smell of roasted meat was too much for his feline senses, and so he found himself standing in the kitchen doorway, salivating. He could see the platter of roasted meats sitting on the table, an easy jump away. He could also see the cook working nearby. However, the man’s back was turned, so Trick was pretty sure he could jump up, grab some meat, and disappear without being noticed. He just had to be quick about it.
He looked at the meat, and then back to the cook. His eyes darted back to the meat, and temptation won out over good sense. He jumped up on the table, and his luck ran out.
The cook picked that exact moment to turn around. He saw the cat land on the table and dash towards the platter of meats destined for the king’s table. Seeing his day’s work (not to mention his life, potentially) in such jeopardy, he reacted quickly. With a speed and grace that belied his huge belly and chubby face, he spun around, grabbed the broom from the corner of the kitchen, and swung it overhead with both hands, aiming to flatten the cat like a pancake.
Trick caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, and his quick feline reflexes allowed him to sprint forward, narrowly dodging the attack. As he ran past the platter, he snatched a piece of ham. There was another loud thwack! as the broom slammed into the table again, but Trick was already leaping off the other end.
He quickly realized his mistake. Now, the large man was standing between him and the door, wielding the broom like a club. Trick could have shifted into something larger and more dangerous, but then he’d have to kill the man, and a dead cook would definitely alert the castle. He darted to the right, but the cook moved swiftly to stay in front of him. Trick darted left, and the man jumped in front of him again.
The cook started jabbing the bristles of the broom at him, but Trick kept leaping out of the way. Finally, the man lunged at him, and Trick saw an opening. Just as the cook pitched forward, Trick leaped into the air, landed on the man’s back, and then leaped again through the doorway and out into the hall. Once he had rounded the corner, he shifted into a mouse and scurried through a hole in the wall.
Emerging on the other side, he found himself in an empty hallway. Down the hall to his left, he could see a spiral staircase leading both up and down. Knowing that going upstairs would probably lead to some easy treasure, he headed that way. As he reached the top of the stairs, he once again marveled at the lack of guards. Other than those posted in the throne room, he hadn’t seen a single one. In any other castle, there would have been at least two posted by the stairs on each floor. Here, there were none.
Shrugging his little mouse shoulders, which actually translated into twitching his nose, he scurried down this new hall. This hall, he suddenly realized, that was covered in a plush deep purple carpet. “Jackpot,” he said, although it came out like an excited squeak. The royal chambers. If there were easy pickings to be found, they’d be here. “But where are the guards?” he squeaked.
He looked up, and at the far end of the hall, he found a guard. Asleep. Theoretically, the man was guarding a large set of double doors, but practically, he was dead to the world. Trick ran up to him, sniffed him just to make sure he wasn’t literally dead, then scurried past him and under the door. Looking around, and finding himself alone again, he shifted back into Trick, the man, and started casing the joint.
Back in the room, Kaine walked over to the fireplace, where Sophia was sitting quietly. Everyone else was preoccupied with their own conversations or lost in their own thoughts, and it gave them a chance to speak privately, for the first time since they had left the ship.
“Does this mean that you’ve forgiven me, Kaine?”
“Yeah, Soph. I guess it does. You know, I always knew there was something different about you. I just didn’t know what it was. I knew that you were better than the rest of us. I just didn’t realize…anyway. I’m trying to say that I’m sorry for how I reacted, and how cold I’ve been to you since then. I still don’t understand why you’re here, or helping us, but I’m glad you are.”
Sophia looked at him with tears in her eyes. “Thank you, Khalis. But I’m not better than the rest of you. Just different. It’s true that you’re no angels, but don’t underestimate your goodness. Yours, or everyone else. Even Nightshade. Had she truly been evil, the magic that keeps you alive wouldn’t have triggered. It was her innate sense that she was doing something very, very wrong that caused the Light to intervene.”
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” Kaine said. He took her hands into his, and continued, “What do I have to do? What ends the curse? I mean, what exactly? Kill Ceres? Retake the throne? But what does that mean? I’m lost, Sophie.”
“I wish I knew, Kaine. I’m lost, too. On the ship, I said that I’m the last of my kind. That’s true, but there’s more. The Light is fading, Kaine. Going out. It’s becoming harder and harder for me to hear her voice. If we don’t fix all this soon, I’m scared the Light will be extinguished forever.”
“Is that even poss…wait. Did you just call the Light her? The Light is female? A goddess?”
Sophia smiled. “The Light can be anything you want it to be, Kaine. Male, female, young, old, human, animal, anything you can imagine. It appears in a way that you will accept and speaks to you in such a way that you’ll listen. The Light is Love, and Love has no form.”
“I’ve never given it much thought,” said Kaine. “I guess I just sort of assumed it was a crotchety old man.”
“Most people do,” said Sophia. “But that’s why everyone gets it wrong. They create the Light in their own image, and then assume it hates all the same people they do. Wars. Genocide. Rape. Murder. All in the name of the Light, when the Light is in the victim and the violater just the same. When people finally understand that the Light is in everyone equally, the world will know peace.”
“I don’t think that will ever happen,” Kaine said sadly. “Seems like people only know how to hate these days.”
“People are afraid. Fear limits their perspective. Takes away their ability to love,” said Sophia.
Kaine dropped his head and shook it sadly, but then looked up at her again. “So, again. What do we do, Soph?”
“I still don’t know, my friend. But I know we’ll figure it out. I have to believe that we’ll be successful. The alternative is too terrifying to contemplate,” she said.
They sat together in silence after that, staring into the fire long into the night.
Much to Trick’s disappointment, the royal quarters didn’t yield much treasure. He found some jewelry, a few coins, but nothing really exciting. It was starting to get dark outside when he gave up. He had no desire to be here when Ceres retired for the night. He shifted back into mouse form and left the private chambers.
Back in the hallway, he noted that the guard was still fast asleep. The man had changed position and was now snoring loudly. Trick took a few minutes to gnaw through the man’s boot laces, and left some droppings in one of the boots. His permanent itch to cause chaos temporarily scratched, he scurried down the hall and back down the stairs.
He was about to leave the castle completely when a sudden sound caught his attention. The crack of a whip, followed by the scream of a woman startled him so bad that he almost shifted. His heart pounding, he stopped to catch his breath. “Leave it alone,” he said to himself, but again it came out like a small squeak. He turned to leave again, but the whip cracked just as he turned around.
“Shit,” he squeaked. He turned back and crept down the stairs.
Two guards stood, stone-faced and stock still, at the foot of the stairs. So motionless and expressionless were the men, Trick thought they were statues at first. An ordinary mouse might have squeaked, but contrary to popular belief, Trick knew how to keep quiet when he needed to.
The crack of the whip, and another scream from the woman brought him out of his brief reverie. He carefully crept past the guards and ventured into the darkness. The smell alone told him that he had found the palace dungeons. Even though the corridor was shrouded in darkness, he didn’t like being exposed, and so he darted in and out of the cells to move down it.
The cells were empty, save for one at the far end of the hall. A lone torch burned inside, and threw cruel shadows across the floor. For the first time, Trick heard a man grunt right before the whip cracked and the woman screamed. Slowly, he crept forward, all the while willing his body to turn and run out of the castle. He was glad he was already as small as he could make himself. He definitely did not want to be found down here.
The shadows loomed larger as he approached the last cell. The sounds were louder, too, and Trick winced when the woman screamed. His courage almost failed as he entered the last cell before the occupied one. A lesser man would have bolted, but Trick was more animal than man. And there was nothing in this world that he hated more than prisons and torture. His fear turned to anger, and as the anger rose inside him, he started to shift.
The mouse turned into a house cat, and the house cat grew and changed again. Two large green eyes, burning bright with fury, peered out of the darkened cell. With a low growl, the sleek black panther stepped into the corridor, and entered the torch light.
The king, whom Trick recognized from the throne room earlier, stood with his back to the open cell door, whip in his hand and sweat dripping from his bare back. Chained to the far wall, a woman whimpered and cried, blood dripping from her bare back.
Trick roared and lept into the air. Landing with all four claws digging into the king’s back, he used them to tear through his flesh as his fangs sank into the back of the man’s neck. The king screamed, and the woman did too, albeit this time, her screams were of terror and not pain.
The guards sprang into action, and ran down the hall, arriving just in time to see the huge panther spring from the king’s back and land between him and the woman. They were both wielding long pikes, and they took quick jabs at the beast, which it dodged easily.
The king got up slowly, wincing in pain every inch of the way, but his fear, anger, and iron will giving him strength. Despite his pain, he darted quickly to the side and retrieved his sword which had been leaning against a wall. He pulled it from the scabbard and lunged at the panther.
Trick quickly dodged the king’s strike and lunged again. His powerful claws raked the man’s chest, and his fangs closed over the man’s face.
One of the guards drove his pike into Trick’s flank, but the other missed completely. The king dropped his sword in an attempt to push the cat off of him, but it was heavier than he expected, and they remained locked together.
Trick dug his claws deeper into the king’s chest, and tried to sink his teeth into his throat, but caught his shoulder instead. He ripped a large chunk of flesh out, though, and swallowed it as the blood sprayed.
The guards both scored hits, opening deep gashes into Trick’s body. The blood poured heavily, mixing with both the king’s blood and the woman’s blood on the floor.
Trick lept from the king, and tore into one of the guards. This man wasn’t nearly as tough or as competent as the king, however, and so Trick sank his fangs into the man’s throat, and tore his windpipe and tongue out. The man died with a gurgle of blood.
The other guard, visibly shaken, but determined to protect the king, drove the blade of his pike deep into Trick’s shoulder, then spun around and brought the butt end of the weapon down to crack Trick’s skull. Meanwhile, the king crawled over and retrieved his sword, and rose to his feet again.
Trick surprised the other guard by leaping straight at him and landing on his feet right in front of the man. He stood on his hind feet and used his front claws to tear the man’s head off of his shoulders.
Sensing an opening, the king brought his sword down in a powerful overhead strike. He would have cleaved Trick’s head from his body, but Trick was too quick, and the blade cleaved a whisker instead. The king’s swing had over-extended his reach, however, and now Trick was the one with a sudden opening. He leapt into the air, and once again landed on the king’s back. The king, now grievously wounded, slumped to the floor.
Trick snarled and opened his powerful jaws wide. Ceres, the false King of Calymnia, died without so much as a whimper.
“Wait! Don’t leave me!”
Trick, having momentarily forgotten about the woman chained to the wall, stopped in mid-bite and turned to look at her in frustration and confusion.
“Who are you?” she asked.
Trick snarled at her menacingly and then turned back to tear a chunk of the dead king’s thigh off and gulp it down. The panther’s instincts to hunt and kill clouded his mind and made him thirst for blood.
“Please,” the woman said. “Please We have to get out of here.”
Trick snarled again and growled his displeasure. He looked at the dead king again, but then retracted his claws, and licked the blood from his lips. He licked a blood-soaked paw, and then nonchalantly walked over to the woman. He sniffed her face, then reached up and casually broke the chains binding her to the walls with a single swipe.
She sank to the floor, but sat up quickly. “Thank you, kitty,” she said. “But who are you, and why are you here?” she asked as she stroked his fur. “I’m Mirena,” she said.
Trick hated shifting in front of people, and especially strangers, but hearing the woman say her name made him decide it was worth it. He shifted into his man form, and simply said, “I’m Trick. I’m with Kaine.”
Mirena didn’t seem surprised or shocked by Trick’s transformation. “Who?” she asked.
“Shit. I mean Khalis. Kaine is his name now, but you know him as Khalis. Your husband.”
“Khalis is alive?!? How? Where is he?”
“He’s close. I’ll take you to him, but I’m weak. Can you get us out of here?”
Mirena dressed herself in Ceres’ shirt, which fit her like a dress, and took the pants off one of the guards, and slipped them on. She tied the whip around her waist in a makeshift belt and grabbed Ceres’ sword. Trick thought she looked ridiculous, but knew better than to say so. Nightshade had taught him that lesson the hard way many years ago. They walked out of the cell and locked it behind them. Mirena turned to look at Trick.
“Can you turn into him?” she asked.
“No,” Trick replied. “Animals only, I’m afraid.”
“We’ve got to hurry,” she said. “It won’t take the rest of the palace to figure out the king is dead.”
They walked out of the cell and locked it behind them. They walked quickly down the main hall of the dungeon and climbed the stairs leading out. At the top of the stairs, Trick started to lead her back the way he had come, but she stopped him.
“This way,” she whispered. She led him through the castle, until they entered a secret passage. Once they had followed it for a few minutes, she spoke in a normal voice. “These are the tunnels I used to escape so long ago,” she said.
Once they were hidden inside the tunnel, Trick slumped against the wall. He had been running on pure adrenaline, but now that he felt the tiniest bit of safety, the wounds he had taken in panther form suddenly overtook him. He had large gashes on his legs, back, and shoulders, but the deep wound in his side troubled him the most. He held it tightly as he slid down the wall.
Mirena rushed over to him and knelt down beside him. “What can I do to help?” she asked.
“I don’t suppose you’re a healer, are you?”
“No. Not even a little bit, I’m afraid. Can you change into something smaller so I can carry you?”
“Yeah, but it’s dangerous. The smaller the animal, the weaker the constitution, and the more serious the wounds. In mouse form, I’d be dead already. As an elephant, these would barely be scratches.
“You can change into an elephant?” she asked, rather too excitedly for the situation at hand. “I’ve always wanted to see one!”
Trick smiled weakly and glanced around the tunnel. “Not here,” he said. “No room.”
“Right! Sorry! Okay, do something small, and I’ll carry you. Uhh…Where are we going?”
“The inn closest to the gates,” Trick said. “I forgot the name. We have a healer. Ask for Sophia. She can help me.” He shifted into a large house cat, who promptly fell asleep.
Mirena scooped the cat into her arms and ran full speed through the tunnels and out into the city streets. She knew the way to the tavern well, but it wouldn’t have taken her long to find it anyway. A large crowd was swarming the place. People were chanting and yelling to meet the strangers. A riot was only moments away, or so it seemed to her.
Not wasting any time, she ran towards the back door of the inn. Once inside, she quickly found the innkeeper. Even though she was badly out of breath, she managed to gasp
“The healer Sophia. Where is she?”
“Upstairs in the corner room. I’ll show you. I was just on my way up there to kick her out. That crowd outside is killing my business!”
