Beastly (7 page)

Philip picked up the ragged ball and flung it hard. “Mind your own business, old man!”

Without dropping his seeing-stick, Cedrik caught the ball with a flash of his hand. He held the captured projectile in place for a moment before offering a sly smile, much to Philip’s chagrin. Satisfied that he had Philip’s attention, Cedrik returned fire with perfect aim. The impact forced Philip to stumble. Cedrik stooped and helped Lia to her feet. He quietly asked if she were ok. Lia was equally awestruck by
Cedrik’s keen reflexes. She mumbled a meek ‘yes’.

“You kids run along.”

“Lucky throw,” Philip
muttered, hands yet stinging. “Come on then, let’s have another kick up the road.” Philip tossed the ball up and kicked it away.

“They’re just little fools. We can only hope they outgrow it someday,” Cedrik offered as he lowered himself to a bench. His intervention came as quickly as his rickety knees had allowed. The price was a paltry soreness and well worth it.

Lia sat beside her savior, feet dangling, eyes filling with tears. “I know. It’s just...” With her tormentors gone her voice finally cracked. Sobs quickly followed.

Cedrik rested a thin arm around his ward. “It’ll be ok,
starshine.”

Lia dried her eyes. What would she do without her ’
pafaa’
?
Cedrik was more than a grandfather. He was a constant source of love and guidance that far exceeded any such title. She was grateful for his many lessons on the world’s magical wonders. Of utmost importance, he lectured, was starlight. Cedrik taught her of the Breath and Blight and how they were the balancing halves that made magic a family.
Death and decay are natural parts of life. It is the darkness of mankind’s heart that corrupts the starlight and spawns evil into our world.

Cedrik swung the lute from underneath his cloak and strummed a few chords. The melody was hypnotic; legendary throughout the lakeside villages for its ability to soothe fussy newborns. His record on the subject was spotless. Lia proved no different from the day she was born. Seven chords later, Lia was all cried out and smiling.

“Feel better,
starshine?”

Lia hugged the old man with the tight squeeze of a grateful grandchild.

“I think those little demons will get what’s coming to them someday,” Cedrik said, pointing the seeing-stick.

“I think you’re right.” Lia closed her eyes and whispered a secret meant only for the wind’s ear. A strange glyph formed in her mind and her nimble fingers began to scribble in the air. Lia’s enchantment settled upon the ball, encasing it with a golden shine. It took on a life of its own, bouncing wildly, running amok through Philip’s band. Her tormentors shrieked in confused terror.

Pig-face tried escaping on her stubby legs, but the ball danced around her feet and sent her sprawling. Philip cried the loudest when the ball singled him out for a double share of punishment. The golden enchantment spread to his boot laces, tying them together while a newly golden sweater flew over his head. The scratchy garment snagged under Philip’s bulbous nose, blocking his vision.

A giggle escaped Lia despite her best attempts at stifling. Cedrik was thankful for a mind capable of painting the chaotic and gratifying picture. Philip bucked against the enchanted sweater and knotted boot strings. “Oh, oh there he goes!” Cedrik snickered.

Philip spun around, tripped, and fell face first into a frozen dung pile. The others remained at the mercy of the still rampaging ball, flattening backsides and faces as it saw fit.

“That’s quite enough, young lady,” Sensheeri’s mountain of a sheriff
called. He brushed at the thick ginger moustache foresting his upper lip.

Cedrik attempted to mount a defense. “Oh Jack, she was just having a bit of fun. And bullies are not to be appeased.”

“
Ced, you know the law. Absolutely no magic. And besides, you shouldn’t want her stooping to their level.” Jack stared at Lia as he stressed the point.

“But Jack, you’re the one who always says how magic is the most precious part of our world. It’s what pushes us forward when we most want to run home!” Lia pouted. “Besides, I’m tired of being bullied all the time.”

Cedrik’s pride swelled. The child by his side, so small and fragile, had proven once again to be much sturdier than she was given credit.

Jack took a knee, still doubling Lia’s height. “Magic
is v
ery important. But using it to reflect malice is wrong. Even if it means we have to turn the other cheek. Magic is a dangerous tool, more dangerous than all of our axes and gaffing hooks combined. When we use magic for vengeance a little flicker of our soul’s shine is eaten away. And soon enough we find we have none left to light our way. Do you understand,
dutre
?”

Lia nodded, knowing Jack to be right. He was always right. She appreciated hearing the traditional word for daughter. It offered additional balm against Philip’s terrible slur. Jack opened a sweeping wingspan. Lia barreled face first into his ample belly, arms not even close to reaching around Jack’s waist.
The sheriff’s arms wrapped around her. With a surprise scoop, Lia was deposited on a burly shoulder.

Jack’s tone darkened. “Word on the Road is that the queen is becoming woefully intolerant of even the smallest transgressions. The Wakeful are sweeping the countryside, just itching to find people daring to dabble in magic-craft.”

A shiver ran up Lia’s spine. Though too young to fully grasp the tyranny at large in her tiny world, the uneasiness in Jack’s voice was crystal clear. She was no stranger to the odd soldiers whose voices all droned alike. Horror stories of the Wakeful’s incursions whispered by hushed tongues were commonplace amongst travelers journeying through Sensheeri.
Stories that included kidnapping ‘undesirables’ and making them disappear. Or worse.

The village’s lone bell clanged everyone to attention. It was a startling sound, used for emergencies like fires on the wharf. Lia knew the other reason the bell was used. A reason nobody cared for. A reason most sensible people feared. Jack knew it too. He was responsible for the assembly the tolling demanded.

Lia climbed down from Jack’s shoulder and stared at the twin cairns marking Sensheeri’s main gate. She grabbed a hand from each of her guardian bookends. Bearing down on the peaceful fishing hamlet was a tight formation of riders...

...in black armor.

Chapter 8

Sensheeri’s moss covered cairns stood twice as tall as a man and stood far enough apart to accommodate two wagons. The original settlers regarded the great stones as symbols of welcome and amity. The Wakeful burst through the gateway oblivious of their sentiment.

Hooves pounded the snowy road, grinding the peaceful morning to a halt. The cobbled stone of the Great Road ended, giving way to well
trafficked
mud. Smacking sounds replaced clopping ones as the formation trampled into the village. Malachai halted his men and ordered a dismount amidst the crowd summoned by the bell. Fishing crews filed down the piers and joined their apprehensive families. Though long accustomed to the Wakeful’s regular incursions, the people of Sensheeri sensed this visit was cause for grave concern.

Lia followed closely behind Jack, leading Cedrik by an elbow. She peeked around Jack’s waist, careful to avoid the icy stares of the unwelcome visitors. A timid glance found Jack’s cheeks drained of color. She watched in dismay as the same pallor spread over the sea of Sensheeri’s faces.

Malachai marched to the crowd’s center flanked by his semi-circle of Wakeful. He moved with the supreme confidence possessed by all hardened warriors; a swagger born of a career’s worth of crushing victories. The unseen hand of fear brushed aside even the largest citizen,
causing more than one to stumble. At a position to his liking, Malachai removed his dragon inspired helm. His eyes were crimson infernos that hollowed Sensheeri’s hearts and souls. The fear was all but palpable and he knew his mission had been completed long ago.
Sensheeri was properly subjugated.

How he reveled in their delicious terror...

His nod saw a pair of Wakeful to purpose, stacking wood taken from a nearby pile into a pyre. The villagers groaned but found their protests muted to a murmur by Malachai’s penetrating stare.

“You searched our village not two months ago, Captain,” Jack shouted. “Why have you returned so soon? We’ve done no wrong.”

“I beg to differ.” Malachai’s sinister drone climbed every spine present. A Wakeful produced a vial of emerald liquid from his belt’s pouch and presented it to his captain. Malachai’s armor screeched as he brandished the vial high overhead. Sensheeri fell silent, stiller than a graveyard past the witching hour. Malachai threw the vial with frigid indifference, shattering the glass over the pyre. A breath later, the pyre erupted into an eerie, smokeless green flame.

“Captain--” Jack said.

“People of Sensheeri. By decree of her Majesty, your Queen, we are charged with the destruction of your heresy.” Malachai’s powerful voice suffocated the crowd like an avalanche. “Bring to us all that inspires you that we may purge such... burdens.”

Lia cupped her hands over her ears. She tried to block out Malachai’s words, but the voice reverberated in her head. Her brow crinkled. “What do they mean ’heresy’?”

The veins in
Cedrik’s thin neck bulged. “They mean to say ‘magic’ or anything to do with it.”

“But why? Why do they hate it so? Haven’t they seen the magic at Festival?”

“
Starshine, they
have s
een magic. Magic that stirs the heart and invigorates the spirit. This is precisely why she wants to destroy it,” Cedrik spat, unwilling to name the Liche Queen. “I hope you live to see a day when magic exists as it did during the time of the once ways.”

A handful of villagers slogged glumly to the pyre, carrying assorted blankets and trinkets. They stared at the frozen ground, fearful of Malachai’s condemnatory glare. He nodded to each, signaling that their offerings should be cast in.
Purged
. The emerald flame had yet to go hungry. A short woman with stringy hair gently tossed an earthen decanter. A simple flower was scrawled on its side. She sobbed while it was consumed by the green fire, erased from all but her memory. She toddled from the pyre, whimpering.

Lia wanted to run to Nell, to wrap her arms around her and squeeze. She recognized the decanter. She remembered the day that Nell’s daughter had painted the blue flower and the ceremony for her passing into the World After that winter. Several of the villagers remembered it from the
summer fair where it had taken the blue ribbon that matched the proud flower.

Fists were balled and a few braver souls clenched farm tools tighter. The subtle uptick in tension did not go unnoticed. The Wakeful reached for weapons, but only Malachai drew his blade.

“Be at peace, for this is your queen’s command.”

Cedrik dropped his seeing stick and reached for Lia’s hands. “
Starshine, I need you to do your old
pafaa
a favor. I need you to remember this day. Remember that there comes a time when you must draw a line.” A tear traced one of the many lines on
Cedrik’s face.

“Not my queen!
Never
my q
ueen!” Cedrik released Lia’s hands and unknotted his blindfold, letting it fall away. He felt the sun on his eyes for the first time since his punishment. The warmth seeped into his wrinkled skin. It was time.

“
Pafaa
, what’s happening? Lia’s eyes watered as confusion washed over. The crowd was fast parting at the front. The Wakeful cut a path to Cedrik, shoving people aside, old and young. Cedrik pinched Lia’s chin with a loving squeeze and kissed the top of her head.

“Someday you will. And on that day, you will make me the proudest
pafaa
in the world.” Cedrik pushed away his cloak, slinging free the old lute. Lia’s eyes widened. Music was banned under the law. The penalty for possessing an instrument, let alone playing one was...

After the fullest breath he had ever known was discharged through
pursed lips, Cedrik strummed tired fingers over tired strings.

“Peasant, you are ordered to stop.
Immediately.” Malachai’s ominous command hung like a storm cloud.

Jack swam through the crowd, desperate to reach Cedrik first.
“Ced, stop. Do as he says.”

Cedrik plucked a few errant notes that quickly fell into place.
And became chords.
Cedrik played the oldest song he remembered, an old lullaby that he often sang to frighten away Lia’s nightmares. The Wakeful pushed through the last row of people surrounding the defiant old man. Jack reached him a second later, once again imploring him to stop. Malachai’s voice boomed. “I’ve warned you once, old man. There will not be a second.”

The Wakeful drew serrated swords of the same black steel as their armor. They surrounded the old musician, now playing as painstakingly perfect as anyone had ever heard. Lia whimpered as the Wakeful closed on Cedrik like a starving pack of wolves. “
Pafaa
..”

Jack sprinted to Lia, brushing her protectively behind him. “
Ced, please. Don’t do this, we need you.”

The melody slowed,
then came to a halt. Cedrik looked to the sound of his family’s voices. A smile, broad and reassuring stretched over his wrinkled face. The crowd of on lookers breathed a collective sigh of tentative relief.

Cedrik panned to a sky he could not see and only barely remembered.
With the last bit of Breath in his aching bones he willed darkened eyes to glance upon the light. A sapphire halo of star dust spiraled around his head.