chapter 1: evil endures
Oren was thankful for being furry. The chill which hung in the autumn air had bitten the otter's nose all through the night. The fact that she slept in the form of a six-year-old girl did not help matters. Twice during the night she had gotten up and warmed herself by Gornul's oven.
The dungeons, Oren pondered, had been dank, musty, and slightly chilly. For an otter, it was perfect. By comparison, moving back into his old apartment with the dry air and bitter chill of oncoming winter seemed like punishment.
Hoping that the added size would warm her, Oren concentrated on becoming his old self. It was difficult. His natural antimagic made it very difficult for him to exercise any control over his personal curse the way others did. But change he did, first becoming a teenager, and finally becoming a man. He observed his reflection in the water of the fish pool. It was still frustrating to him that he was smaller, weaker and more effeminate than he had been when he moved to the keep, to say nothing of the fact that he would forever be half otter. Still, it could be worse, he supposed. He had largely managed to control the speech impediment which his first curse had placed on him. Perhaps the second might in time show reduced effects as well.
Oren was just about to grab a fish for breakfast when he heard a knock at the door.
"Who could that be at this hour?" he wondered aloud. He hastily put on his vest and briefs to make himself decent.
Opening the entrance door, he was surprised to see Caroline, looking wide awake but not chipper as she usually was. This was understandable, naturally. The bandages wrapping her hands were a constant reminder of the horrible attack which had left more of the woman broken than just her fingers. The thick morning fog which framed her seemed to mirror the greyness of her mood.
"Hey... Sister..." said Oren, hoping to elicit a smile.
"Hi, Oren." Caroline responded. Her smile was less than enthusiastic. "Something's happened that I think you should see. Gornul, too."
"What is it? Is someone hurt or something? Immediately, he regretted the phrasing."
"Not quite so drastic, but significant. I think you'd better see for yourself."
Feeling very curious, Oren woke his sleeping friend, enjoying the warmth of the orno as he did. The two of them then followed Caroline out, with Oren stopping only momentarily to secure his cape and wrap it around himself as protection against the cold and the fog.
Caroline led her friends all the way to the main gate of the Keep and beyond. Her pace was slow and agonized, causing Oren to wonder what could be so important that his battered friend would travel such a distance in her condition to fetch him.
"Barney and Rashim had come to take me for an early morning stroll." she began, as if reading his thoughts. "They thought it might make me feel better to get some exercise. We had gone out to the river. That was where we found..."
"Found what?"
Caroline was silent for a moment. "I thought I should be the one to fetch you." said Caroline. "I know how much you..."
"How much I what? What is it, Caroline?"
The woman fell silent for a moment, looking as though she desperately wanted to release some bit of information which was simply too painful. Through the murky, almost tangible fog, the three strode up toward the river. There, they met up with someone Oren had not seen before. "Oren, Gornul," said Caroline. "This is Light."
"Light Carter." said the woman, a rather attractive Eurasian otter with a sack full of herbs around her neck. Her accent, Oren found, was amazingly similar to his own.
"Pleased." said Oren, kissing Light gently on the hand.
"Light is an herbal healer." said Caroline. "She sort of joined up with our little lutrine club while you were in the dungeon."
"Healer?" Oren repeated. "Is someone sick?"
"In a word, yes." Light began walking in the direction of the river. >From the fog, three shapes began to form. One was the small form of Barney, the fishkeeper. The second was the large form of Rashim. It was the middle one that grabbed and held his attention, though. A sixth otter, a sea otter, portly, and yet somehow very shapely, lay on the ground, clutching her stomach and moaning. The face and the form were foreign, but the clothing and the voice he knew all too well.
"Ana?"
The sea otter looked up. "Oren?"
"What happened?"
"It was... the water."
"The water? The polluted water you brought from home? You drank it?"
"Yes, Oren. I wanted... I wanted to be like you."
The Hipoccian cast his gaze to the faces of his fellow otters, all downcast, while his mind searched for the next question to ask. "How much did you drink?" he asked.
"All of it."
Tears formed in Oren's eyes. "Help me get her up." he said to Rashim. "We need to get her to the healer right away."
Healer Coe did everything he could for Ana. In the end, however, there was only one thing to be done. He found it necessary to send for someone better trained than he in the magic arts.
Wessex rubbed his undersized hands together nervously as he delivered the news to Oren and his friends.
"I'm not going to sugar coat this for you." he said in a manner which seemed very odd coming from the mouth of a little boy. "The amount of magic now in Ana's system is incredible. Obviously, we've all seen what just a little drink of this polluted water can do to someone who is inherently antimagical. An entire jar is going to do far worse. Unfortunately, most remedies for problems of this nature would by canceled out by Ana's own antimagic before they could take effect. The only way to fight these magical toxins is to boost that antimagic until it has a chance of saving her on its own."
"If we don't?" Oren asked, fearing the worst. He was not disappointed.
"If we don't, then within a fortnight, her human side will dwindle to nothing. In a week, she'll be a normal sea otter, both in body and mind. After that, the magic will continue twisting her body. In two weeks, she will be dead."
Oren put his hands over his face. Tears came which would not be held back.
"I WILL save her." he vowed. "I will."
Rupert was a gentleman. He had always been a gentleman. However, he was also a gorilla. More than that, he was a gorilla commando in the Whales marine force. This meant to Oren that his calm and gentle demeanor gave no reassurances whenever the great ape answered the door for his employer, Phil.
Oren hesitated for just a moment before saying "I... I need to speak with..."
Rupert held up his hand. He made a pair of gestures which let the otter know that Phil was speaking with the duke and should not be disturbed.
"Actually," said Oren. "It's you I need to speak with."
Rupert pointed to himself, a mild look of surprise on his face. He bade Oren to state his business.
"It's my girlfriend... Ana. She's... she's very ill. She's suffering from magic poisoning."
Rupert wanted to know what he could do, and so rolled his open hand around to ask him to continue.. Oren only understood the question because his conversations with Gornul, his mute roommate, had taught him the meanings of gestures. However, it was clear enough.
"When you retrieved the evil urn from Loriod's castle, you disarmed it with an antimagic powder."
The ape's eyes went wide. He shook his head insistently and explained with a finger across his neck that the powder would most certainly kill her.
"It wouldn't." Oren replied. "She's Hipocci, just like me. Her body can handle the antimagic, and in fact, it may be the only way to save her life."
After a long hesitation, Rupert led Oren inside. He did his best to explain that yes, he did have a very small amount of the powder left, but it wasn't something which he would give out to just anyone. It was very expensive, and would be deadly to anyone without a Hipoccian's tolerance. This took several very long minutes in which Oren repeatedly shook his head in confusion before he finally got it.
"I know how dangerous antimagic is, especially since Achin nearly died from it. And I promise to pay for it, whatever the price."
"You couldn't." Rupert said with a shake of his head. Leaving Oren in the foyer for a moment, he went to his personal chambers and returned with a small stoppered vial. He handed this to the otter, explaining with his hand gestures over his heart that if the powder could save the woman's life, it would be worth the expense.
Oren tearfully hugged the gorilla, which caught the butler off-guard for just an instant. With a smile, the ape pat the otter on the head.
A voice drifted in from the next room. "Oren? Is that you?"
The otter quickly went to the doorway, where he saw Phil and Thomas huddled over a pad of notes. With them, looking very nervous, was Vitra.
"Your Grace." Oren responded. For good measure, he added "Your Highness. My lady."
No one directed him to be informal this time.
"Oren, please come in." said Phil. "I believe that you can be of some help to us on this matter."
The otter obeyed and took a position by the others, being seated only when he was bade.
The Duke turned to Oren, his ears forward in an expression of urgency. "Vitra has been telling both Phil and myself what she knows of the enemy's plans. I would like you to hear this, as well, as it seems to come very close to you." Turning to the Zorilla, he said "Would you begin again, for Oren's benefit?"
Vitra nodded politely. "As you know, My husband, Ushka, was impressed into service of Nasoj as fire-mage. When he was killed, it was when trying to recapture escaped darkling. I find out from him that there are many darklings Nasoj is holding. He plans to release them into keep when time is right."
"How does that involve me?" asked Oren.
"At same time, Nasoj is making allies in land of the south. In place called 'Devil's Strand'."
"Hipocc's only neighbor." Phil added.
"Their magic is very, very great, and very, very evil. More great and evil than Nasoj."
Oren nodded. "Up until now, it's been the Hipocci who have held the Stranders at bay."
"Until Hipocc destroyed." Vitra corrected. "Now Strand is getting ready to move out and conquer world, but they not do it alone. That where they need Nasoj."
Oren sat quietly and waited for an explanation.
"It like this: Devil's Strand has very powerful spell, but spell can only be cast when time is right, and certain things must be just right. Both place where spell is cast and place spell is put over must be dark."
"And Nasoj is sending in the darklings to 'kill the lights', so to speak." Thomas surmised.
"Exact. Then when spell is finished, Metamor Keep has no more defense. Walls become brittle like cracker. Armor and weapon turn into dust. Magic no work for us. Even will to fight is gone. It spell so powerful and bad it make even Nasoj wet himself."
"The course of action seems clear." said Phil, twitching a foot, nervously. "We must prepare for a battle against the darklings while at the same time, we send a force to Devil's Strand to prevent the spell from being completed."
"And you want me to lead the expedition, is that it?" Oren asked.
"There are only four people in the keep who know the area. You are by far the most qualified to act as a guide." Thomas explained.
Oren nodded. "It would be an honor." he replied. "And it happens that I was on my way to Hipocc to begin with."
"Oh?"
"My dearest, Ana, lies in the healer's surgery in a truly awful state. I must bring medicines from our homeland or she will die."
"What happened?" asked the rabbit, looking quite concerned.
"At this moment, I have no idea why she did it, but she drank a massive amount of water polluted by magic. It is the same water which did this to me." he gestured to his lutrine form.
"I am sorry to hear that." said Phil. "If there is anything I can do for you and her, just let me know."
Oren placed his paws in front of his face and attempted to interlace his fingers, momentarily forgetting that his hands were webbed. "I would like you to come with me." he said.
Phil blinked as if he had been slapped. Thomas shook his head in surprise. Rupert appeared at the door and looked as if he were ready to thump someone.
"I'm... I'm needed here." said Phil.
"I don't make this wut wut request lightly." said the otter. He flushed a little when his nervousness began to make his speech impediment resurface. "My mission to chrrr Hipocc is twofold now. If we are to prevent Devil's Strand from casting their spell, we will need help. We will need to Rally the remnant of Hipocc to our side. I believe that Phil will be able to do this. Despite his rabbity form, he is a prominent political figure, a military leader, and overall, a charismatic person who can manipulate words to achieve any desired effect."
Phil was blushing, now.
"Secondly, there is the Prince's safety. We know that the keep is going to be coming under attack by darklings. These are nasty monsters which will test the skills of many a keeper. If the mission to Hipocc succeeds, there will still be the darklings to contend with. If we fail, anyone still within the keep will very likely die. Prince Phil will actually be safest with me."
Rupert grunted.
"Of course. You would come along as well. I wouldn't have it any other way."
Thomas flicked his ears. "I sense that there is more."
Oren nodded, but hesitated. "I know that you are one who believes in prophecy. There is one from my homeland which I believe refers to Phil. In fact, it was Phil himself who helped me to apply the prophecy."
"I would like to hear this prophecy." said the Duke, ears settling in the forward position.
Oren settled back and quoted.
In times that shall come 'round once more
came a child-like warrior
orphan boy of mean estate
drink a drop and change your fate
"At present, I am very childlike. My parents are believed dead, and the last line must naturally refer to my original transformation."
wander now to where you will
to the castle on the hill
seek ye there the ones who chew
with their secrets, one and two.
"The Castle on the Hill is, without a doubt Metamor Keep. The 'ones who chew' are a pair of rodents, of course. Rodents with secrets. Though I won't share with you what I learned or how I learned it, I know for certain that these two are Charles and Phil."
Ask your riddle, play your game
share with them your special name
secrets two and secrets none
now are three and three are one
sand and flame and zero score
quoth the child-like warrior
"The first two lines are instructions to me to relate this prophecy, which I have. The subsequent four lines I have very little clue about. It seems clear, though, that whatever I am to do, I am to do with them."
add to three another two:
painting-mind and heart-is-true
all return to evil's shore
with the child-like warrior
"Heart-is-True is my friend, Jesse Roo. Painting-Mind is obviously Gornul. Evil's shore would have to be Devil's Strand."
darkest times shall come again
evil that was one is twain
by the rising of the sun
so shall darkness be undone
"Until just now, I couldn't figure out the meaning of that second line. Now, I believe it must refer to the alliance between Devil's Strand and Nasoj. Darkness is mentioned twice. We know this to be a prerequisite for the spell the Stranders are casting."
Go back again when all is still
to the castle on the hill
sing and play and have your fluff
time will come 'round soon enough.
"In this stanza, I believe that Fluff refers to Phil's little fluffy tail."
"You what?" said Phil.
"Okay, so I don't. I'm sorry. The tone was ppprrrrrr getting way too serious in here."
Thomas made a disapproving face. Oren laughed aloud, and then dropped his face into his paws and began weeping.
"Oren?" said Vitra. "You be okay?"
The otter was shaking visibly, now. "I'm sorry." he said. "This is difficult for me. For a year, now, I've had no home outside Metamor Keep. I never thought about home, not even when Ana came practically knocking on my door. I've known for some time that I would have to go back there, but the very thought is more than I can bear."
"You don't have to go." said Thomas. "There is always Blake or Felice."
"Felice wants to go back even less than I do. And Blake? I'm sorry, but Blake is not someone I have complete trust in, yet. It's not that I don't trust her penitence, but she's a moron."
The horse nodded, emitting a chuckle that was devoid of humor.
"I'll be all right." said the otter. Now, if there is no further discussion for the time being, I must take this powder to Ana.
Bowing politely, Oren slipped out of Phil's apartment and into the hallway, where he broke into uncontrollable sobbing.
chapter 2
"Go ahead, Love." Oren whispered. "Drink it all down."
Ana did as she was bidden and swallowed the entire cup of black liquid. Not a single drop remained in the cup. "What was in that?" she asked.
"Antimagic." Oren replied. "A unique variety from Whales. It took close to forever to figure out how to give it to you without it flying off and sticking to the walls of the Keep.
"It feels tingly." said Ana. Oren was afraid for a moment that the foreign antimagic might indeed yet prove harmful, but then realized that if it was, Ana would not have lived long enough to say "it feels tingly".
Oren left the surgery feeling helpless and frustrated.
Charles was just getting back from a lovely, scenic stroll with Lady Kimberly. Actually, it wasn't scenic at all. The fog had prevented either of them from seeing anything far in front of their faces. And yet this same fog had made things all the more beautiful, he thought. The world was muted under a blanket of white which wrapped itself around he and his lady, making it seem like they were the only two people in the world.
Until Oren showed up.
Kimberly was startled by the otter's appearance. The new thinness of his face gave him a haggard and severe countanence. His cape, dampened by the watery miasma in which he stood, clung to his arms like skin to starving bones.
"Good morning, Oren." said Charles for both of them. "Are you well today?"
"I am not." the otter replied, plainly. "I need to speak with you, Charles."
The rat glanced at his lady.
"You may hear this if you wish." said Oren to Kimberly. "But I forewarn you that I bring distressing news."
Kimberly elected to stay.
"I need you to accompany me to Hipocc, Charles."
"Now?" asked the Rat. "But I have duties which..."
"I'm asking on the authority of Duke Thomas himself. It is vitally important to the safety of Metamor Keep that a contingent be sent to my homeland."
Charles nodded his understanding. He had learned about the darkmen during Oren's trial, and of their connection with Devil's Strand. He'd never expected, however, to be called to appear there in person. "How soon?" he asked.
"Immediately. There is a second reason the trip must be made."
"That being?"
"Ana is dying."
Kimberly let out a gasp. "Oren!" she exclaimed. "I'm so sorry."
"Thank you, M'lady. Your concern is a comfort. If she does not get medicine within the next two weeks, she will most certainly die."
Charles managed to smile. It was not a smile of mirth, but of courage and sympathy. It caused Oren to ponder the irony that he always knew the rat to smile more often when the situation became severe, while he himself had been slowly losing his sense of humor.
"I'll go, Oren." said Charles, simply.
"Thank you." Oren responded.
Kimberly looked into the eyes of her beloved. "Be careful, Charles. Come back to me safely."
At this, Oren did smile. "I have it on the word of the prophets that he'll be returned to you unharmed. Now, if you will excuse me," he said with a bow. "I must make haste to Lorland."
Kim Roo was surprised to see Oren at the front door, and wondered for a moment that the otter was still bare-legged as the fog began to condense into frost on the trees outside. "Come in!" she insisted. "Come in, Oren, before you catch your death. I'll fix you a mug of ceyenne tea."
"That sounds delicious, Mrs. Roo." said Oren, seriously tempted. "However, I cannot stay long. I've come to talk to Jesse on a matter of some urgency."
Kim motioned to the partition which served to distinguish Jesse's room from the rest of the house. Peering around it, he found the young kangaroo lying on his bed massaging both shoulders.
"Rough night?" asked Oren.
"Very." replied Jesse without rising. "I was laying bricks until the fourth hour last night. Building things is a lot more taxing than blowing them up."
"I'm glad you feel that way." said Oren.
"Why?"
"I may have need of your destructive capabilities. The time has come for..."
"You want me to come to Hipocc with you?"
Oren shook his head in surprise. "How did you know that?"
Jesse was now up off the bed and bouncing on his toes. "I've been given these powers and told to wait in reserve until Metamor Keep needs me, as all my ancestors have done for generations. Don't you think I'd be keeping an eye out for whatever it is that lets me fulfill my destiny?"
"Well... honestly, no."
"Easy for you to say. All the prophecies about you put you right in the center of the action."
Oren shook his head once again. "ProphecieS?" he echoed, emphasizing the plural. "What do you mean? There's more than one?"
"You don't know?"
"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking!"
"Oh, right." As he talked, Jesse began hopping around the room and collecting personal belongings and stuffing them into a sack. "You know that I'm one of the lucky farm peasants who can read, right? Well, as soon as Loriod's library became public property, I started reading whatever I could get my mitts on. I found at least two prophecies that I'm sure are about you. 'The Otter and the Weasel' is a good one. Funny, too."
"I'm sure it's fascinating, but..."
Jesse cinched the sack closed and announced "I'm ready!"
"That was fast."
"I told you, I've been ready for this, now lets go!"
Oren returned to his home with Jesse Roo in tow, making the journey in silence, pleased not to need, for the moment, to speak the horrible news of Sawana's failing health.
When Oren found Gornul, the dragon was in their shared apartment. He was perched by the side of the fish pond. Over his open hands a fish was draped, recently killed. Gornul's mouth was drawn back in an expression of anxiety and sorrow, and his eyes betrayed feelings of helplessness. At first, Oren didn't know what to make of it. The fish had always been food to the both of them. Neither of them had ever shown any remorse at killing a fish to eat it. In fact, Gornul loved eating fish. Why did the passing of one make him sad?
Then, all at once, he understood. The dragonettes were people who thought and understood the world in pictures and symbols. To him, the passing of life from this fish was a perfect picture of what was going to happen to Sawana. Unable to do anything else, he would be forced to watch his best friend's beloved slowly slip away into an incremental death in the body of a sea creature.
"Don't worry." said Oren in a soft voice. "We'll save her."
Wagons were loaded during the night. The need for haste was obvious to all involved, and so a caravan had been made ready to travel by dawn. Inspecting the front vehicle, Oren found his sister, Felice, in the driver's seat.
"Felice," said Oren. It is not necessary that you return home with me."
The woman smiled at her brother's unusually serious and somber tone. "Oren, what do you think I came here to the Keep for in the first place?" she said.
"Its simply that..."
"Little brother, come up here, sit next to me, and relax."
"I can't. I have to see that the wagons are loaded and that everyone who's coming is aboard." He almost managed to turn away and leave when Felice caught him by his cloak. "Rupert is taking care of that. You come up here and wait for him to report to you."
The otter sighed. He hated it when his sister was right like this. Climbing onto the seat next to Felice, Oren sat ramrod straight in anticipation of the journey.
"And relax!"
Doing as instructed, Oren allowed his shoulders to hunch a little as his appearance became slightly smaller and more feminine. Still, he could not help but gaze back at the other wagons. The second one would be driven by Rupert himself, with Prince Phil safely at his side. The third had Jesse at the reigns with Charles climbing in beside him.
Six security guards stood ready to enter the middle wagon behind Phil. They were all bedecked in scarlet tunics bearing the mustang crest of Duke Thomas. This made Oren slightly uneasy, reminding him of one of his favorite story series in which security guards who dressed in red always seemed to die prematurely.
Desuka had come along as a mess cook, and rode in the wagon behind Felice. Oren had insisted that it wasn't necessary, but when Thomas had told his new friend, Emperor Ku about the trouble which he was expecting very soon, the Emperor had insisted that Desuka, Mong Ho and Ye be split up, one with the departing contingent, one down in the Keep, and one at Thomas' side, to enable instant communication. Ku himself would use his countrymen's link to him to coordinate reports.
Gornul perched on the wagon cover above Oren's head. He was ready to go at any time, having said his goodbyes to his family. Qualin had wanted to come along as well, but Gornul explained that he would be needed to protect the tower and their family from the darklings once they came.
A fourth wagon was added to the caravan shortly before dawn. This one was driven by Shamgar, with Blake riding "longbow" beside him.
Oren jumped out of his seat. "Who told her she could come on this mission? The last thing we need is a bumbling Strander assassin gumming things up!" He made no attempt to keep his comments from anyone's ears, not even Blake's.
"I told her she could come along." said a voice from inside the wagon. A lutrine head stuck out. It was Light the healer. "We're bringing Hipocci refugees back, right? Our enemy is devil's Strand, right? We're going to need someone who knows what Stranders can do and how to treat it. That's why I asked her to come along."
Oren looked inside the wagon. Light had set up a mobile hospital inside. The sight brought his mind around to Ana, laying in Coe's surgery, slowly losing her grip on life. He wanted desperately to bring her along, but Wessex had insisted that travel would probably kill her. Time was short, Oren realized, and an argument now would not do a thing to get Ana's treatment back any sooner.
Rupert walked up to Oren in his loping hopping-on-the-knuckles gait. Using a pre-arranged sign, he signaled that all was in readiness.
"All right, let's MOVE 'EM OUT!" bellowed the otter, his businesslike demeanor gone.
The main gates parted, and the small convoy made its way to the south, as the rest of Metamor Keep braced for what was to come.