The Winter Letter (27 page)

“Your magic is ancient, but can you fight me hand to hand?” Jared said. Andrias reached behind, underneath the long black cloth wrapped around his waist. He pulled out a long straight sword of his own. 

Jared charged, running and screaming, and Andrias charged, floating and silent. With one hand each of them wielded their swords and with the other they fought hand to hand using every punch and combat magic known to Baru. Fire and lightning sparked from hands and swords, water swirled around the two, and the earth beneath them rippled as Jared threw everything he had at Andrias. Andrias stopped every physical attack with his free hand and stopped every magical attack with twitches of his fingers and mumbled magic words. The clanging of the swords clenched the teeth of all who watched. Jared slashed more and more wildly, but every time the swords met pain revealed itself in his eyes as he caught a jar that rattled him to his booted feet. Finally, after a few minutes Jared connected a punch strong enough to shatter a door. It landed with a pop, dead in the center of Andrias’s chest. Andrias stood unmoved. Jared grimaced. Even from where he lay Will could hear the bones in Jared’s hand shatter.

Andrias spun and returned the punch, sending Jared flying backwards ten feet and crumbling to the ground. “Surrender,” Andrias commanded.

Jared tried to stand, but could only make it to all fours. His eyes betrayed him, showing in spite of his fake grin, that he realized Andrias was only letting him fight so he wouldn’t die a coward. He could not win, and he knew it. He had underestimated the High Knight of Baru, or rather over estimated himself. It was over. There was only one thing left to do: die, but not alone, not for Jared. 

“FIRE!” Jared screamed, pushing his last bit of strength into a blast aimed at Seth, Gatnom, Wohie, and Will. As he let it go he screamed words unworthy of repeating, and a wall of fire rolled towards the four young magi. Will and Wohie closed their eyes, but Seth did not. He swirled his arms, conjuring the strongest shield of protection he could muster. 

When the flame ceased and Wohie opened her eyes, her brother was crouched by her, surrounding her with his arms. His magical shield stood unchallenged. The fire had been only a short blast, dying almost as soon as it was born. When the smoke cleared, Andrias was slightly crouched in front of a stunned, hunched over Jared. Jared’s mouth was gaping wide. His hands gripped the hilt of Andrias’s saber, which was now buried deep in his chest. For a moment Jared’s eyes danced to the left and right, then without taking a step and without saying a word, he fell and was dead before he hit the ground. 

Andrias removed his saber from Jared’s body, cleaned its blade, and resheathed it. He walked over to where the four were sitting. “Well done, Captain,” he said to Seth. Seth nodded.

“How did you find us?” Will asked.

“Well, let’s just say a little bee buzzed it in my ear.”

“I’m not a bee! I’m a butterbug!” Jabber said matter of factly, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

“Good job, Jab.”

Jabber smiled then jumped, startled by Wohie’s scream.

“NO! NO! NO!”

“What is it Ascena?” Seth asked. Wohie was staring at Gatnom, rocking back and forth.

“He’s dead! He’s dead!” she screamed as she collapsed into her bothers arms. Will pulled himself closer to Gatnom. His chest wasn’t moving and the light was gone from his open eyes.  

“Gat! Gat! Wake up!” he screamed. He put his right hand on Gatnom’s chest, closed his eyes, and focused all of his thoughts on his friend. “Be Healed!” Nothing happened. Will didn’t even feel the heat of magic inside anymore. Will started to speak again, but before he did Andrias snatched his hand off of Gatnom’s open chest.

“Stop.”

“Why? I can heal him!” Will screamed weakly. He tried again, but again his hand was snatched away. 

“You have no carrier,” Andrias said through his mask. “Besides, that spell would kill you, especially in your condition. No mere man can bring someone back from the dead. In death, love is not enough, a power is required that no mortal magi has ever found. King’s dream of it, but die dreaming for it. It is the power of life, the power greater than any other.”

Will dropped his head. Death was as final here as on earth. His parents, Gatnom, all gone. Wohie wailed loudly in her brother’s arms. Will wanted to join her, but no tears came, although he felt the sting of a million.

“What do we do?” Will asked. “There has to be something.”

“We go to the King.”

Will, Seth, Wohie and all of Seth’s men turned and looked at Andrias at once. “What?” Seth asked.

“There is only one in Baru with enough power to resurrect. That is King Mel Masih.”

“But why would he help us?” Will asked.

“Because he is the one who brought you here in the first place,” Andrias answered.

There was rustling in the bushes beyond the clearing. Andrias turned as three Lions step out majestically. It was Tselem, Parah, and Radah: the Unfallen of Baru. 

“Tselem!” Andrias said. He seemed younger when he saw Tselem, like a child who sees his best friend.

“Lord Andrias Shielder, it has been too long,” Tselem replied.

“Since the war.”

“It seems more war is approaching.”

“I’m afraid the King says it is. We will need you.” 

“Then that is why we are here.” Tselem looked past Andrias and saw Gatnom. 

“We must get these three to the King,” Andrias said, answering Tselem’s silent question.

“You are fast Lord Andrias, but we are faster across the plains,” Tselem suggested.

Andrias nodded and with one arm scooped Gatnom up and set him on the back of the lead Lion. Wohie mounted to keep Gatnom steady. Will mounted Parah. Tselem looked at Radah, who then looked at Jabber and said, “Ride with me warrior Butterbug. I will need you.”

Jabber hopped in between Radah’s ears and Radah shot out of the forest toward the city.

“Radah will go ahead with Jabber and inform the Court of the King what has happened. With Jabber alone Radah will be able to prepare the way so we can get to the throne room quickly.”

“Seth, are you coming?” Wohie asked her brother, through her sobs. “I’ll see you at the city, won’t I?”

Seth stood and hugged his sister. “I will see you soon.”

“Promise?” 

Seth nodded.

At that Tselem and Parah began their run to the city. After they had broken the tree line Seth turned and looked down on Master Jared, who’s eyes held no light and body no spirit. “Lord Andrias? Please tell my sister I need some time to work things out. This is a lot to handle in one day.”

“Where will you go?”

“I don’t know, but I need some time to think.” Seth looked again at Jared. “And, I must bury my Master.”

“That is honorable of you Captain.”

“Do you think so? After all he has done.”

“Even the heathen should be given respect. There are times for justice, and the King of All will see to it, but let us all hope we receive mercy on that day. Let us pray for it by giving it. Nothing is ever as simple as it seems. Even the evil inside of Jared had a father. I knew him when he was a boy, when his eyes were bright. Today, to see the last light fade from them is sad indeed. We can only pray that although he had to die today, tomorrow he will live.”

Seth nodded. “Do you think my sister will understand?”

“Everything has changed in only a moment. Take your time. I am sure Ascena will understand.”

“What about the young William?”

“What do you mean?”

Seth looked to the ground. When he looked up his eyes were moist. “I helped Jared kill his parents.” 

Andrias looked at Seth hard. The muscles in his jaw tightened. “Let me speak to the King. He alone can heal such wounds.“

Seth mounted his horse. “We’ll be back soon. You have my word,” he said.

“And I believe it. You and your men ride well. We shall see you along the path.” 

“As we shall see you.”

Seth began to trot off, but before he reached the wood line he turned. “Lord Andrias?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for saving my sister.”

Twenty Three
The King

Because Radah had gone ahead, Tselem and Parah did not have to stop for the gate; all way was given. At the speed of sound the Unfallen beasts traversed the old battlefield. They flew into the city, through the market streets, entered the inner district, crossed the moat, and entered the courtyard of the King. Waiting were attendants who took Will, Wohie, and Gatnom inside to clean their wounds. Gatnom lay limp and lifeless with black burns on his motionless chest, and every time Wohie accidentally caught a glimpse at his body new wails echoed from the walls. Eventually Mei quietly instructed some attendants to move Gatnom to another room. She had to hold Wohie back as the four men carried his body away.

It was a terrible sight.

Will’s neck throbbed, but there was something else happening, something beyond the pain of a burn, something beyond torture. It was like winter had froze his heart in mid beat. He could hardly stand, think, or see. His last drop of strength had faded with Gatnom’s eyes. He sat unmoving, as he had been in the hospital waiting area after his mother had died. He tried to catch his breath, but the air didn’t seem to go all the way down. The numbness burned too much to touch directly. Will had first met this feeling a few months before, but had gotten no more used to it. The numbness was becoming him without his permission, swallowing William Wesley and leaving only a shell. He had found the bottom of hopelessness, and it was a dark place.

One of the attendants placed her hand on Will’s shoulder. “The King has summoned you,” she said. 

Will stood and walked out. He was too weak to ask any more questions; whatever would happen, would happen. He followed the attendant through a tall corridor, passing, but not seeing, lines of massive stone warriors towering two at a time on each side of many windows staining the walls their colors. He saw, but did not know he was seeing. He walked, but did not know he was walking. They passed the guards, increasing in number as they grew closer to the King’s Hall, entered through two giant wooden double doors (which Will didn’t hear open), and stepped into the throne room. All Will saw were the cobblestones sliding beneath change to marble and then to crimson carpet. This is when he first looked up.

The throne room was the size of a high school gymnasium with grooved columns falling out of the black-as-night ceiling, holding down the floor with their monolith strength. Will was standing on a carpet that cut the room in half as it led to a large stage. On the stage was a glass throne (so clear it almost looked transparent) and nothing else. Other than the strip of royal carpet, the rest of the floor was sandstone. Six chairs, three on each side of the strip of red carpet, sat empty, facing the throne. 

Wohie was standing at the bottom step of the stage clutching Gatnom’s hat with both hands. Will approached from behind, but neither spoke. A few minutes later the doors to the throne room opened and six men marched in carrying Gatnom’s corpse on their shoulders. They walked down the isle and laid the body long ways on the first step of the stage, directly in front of Will and Wohie. The image stabbed both of the young magi. Gatnom’s usually tanned skin was pale as death.

“Please honor the entrance of the court of his majesty King Mel Masih!” echoed a voice from somewhere Will couldn’t see. “Master Thummim, protector of the Underland!” the voice announced. A short man with big ears walked from behind the stage and took his seat in one of the chairs facing the throne. The chair was too big for the size of his body. Will looked at Wohie in disbelief. She was looking at him already. “Lady Urim, protector of the Sea side of Sandaqua,” the voice called again. An image of Urim, the woman of the sea whom the three had met beneath Jared’s castle, appeared, floating above one of the small thrones. She was not physically there, but her image was unmistakable. “And last, Lord Andrias Shielder, highest protector of all of Baru!” Lord Andrias walked in, still wrapped in black from head to toe.

“And now, rise for the High King of all Providences and lands of Pugian and regent of Baru: King Mel Masih the Only!”

King Mel Masih stepped out from behind the throne as if he had been walking fast before his name was called. Urim, Thummim, and Andrias fell to one knee. Will and Wohie did not, but not out of spite, but rather awe. The first glimpse of the Majesty of Pugian was like a flash that made the room go out of focus. His image was like a man who had just kissed a star. The King was strong and tall, taller than Gatnom had been; his hair seemed silver at first, then white, then settled to brown; his eyes flickered fire, then rippled like rain, until they themselves settled to brown. His look was kind, but piercing, as if he could see everything about you at a glance, starting on the inside and working out. He wore a long coat with grey falls of fabric falling over each other again and again, like waves crashing upwards. It moved on its own, flowing like Urim’s dress in the sea, indifferent to gravity, and rarely did the train touch the ground. It looked alive, as if it was guarding its master. A sword with a golden hilt was sheathed at the King’s side, along with a matching dagger in his belt. His shirt seemed woven, grey and silver, but he wore no armor. His mirror silver crown looked like a crown upon a crown upon a crown. 

Yet, as awesome as the first glimpse of the King was to the eyes, there was something greater to him than just his appearance. With him came a feeling, a spirit if you will, that affects each person in a wonderfully unique way. It is the forgotten effect of unsoiled magic, the purest power able to cut the cords tied around your wrist. Wohie saw beauty ripple from the King’s cloak a wave at a time until each wave crashed into her tanned skin. When it touched her, she glowed enough to light the world. But, only she saw this. Will saw things much differently. A moment before he had been depressed, pushed down deep into himself, but at the first glimpse of King Mel he felt a foot of hard dried mud melt away and a fresh pair of clothes, made for running in clean rain, set themselves upon him. For a quick second Will lifted his head and forgot he was dead inside.