Traces of freezing spray brushed across the faces of Micah, Charlotte, Cal, and John Halifax as they crept closer to the coast of the Strait of the Final Word. Traversing nearly half the country in a weeks-long chase finally brought them back to the destination they sought all along. A half moon hung high over their heads on an unfortunately clear night.

  Single file, they slunk abreast of the sandy path, hiding when patrols came close and resuming their crouching approach once they passed. The sounds of ocean waves crashing against rocks met their ears. Micah led the way, silent in his trek through long beach grasses and along dry river trenches. The sand became finer as they went, muffling their steps, but the guards increased. Consulting a map, he led them away from the heavy patrol of the watchmen and into a narrow basin that ran a winding course toward the strait.

  In little time, they reached the mouth. Mounds of limestone rocks twenty feet high protected them from view of a black abyss that was the mighty strait. The rock piles provided only a narrow conduit for streams of calm water to flow in and out, forming a shallow tide pool. Micah consulted the detailed instructions left to him by Kyba. He flicked his hands at the others, giving wordless orders to fan out. John, Charlotte and Cal began exploring the small cove, in search of something they could not see.

  Charlotte bent over, feeling her hands out as if searching for a lamp in the pitch dark. After a few moments of careful advancing, she reached the edge of the pool, and her knee bumped something hard. The sudden jolt caused her to cry out in pain. Micah was upon her instantly, covering her mouth and stifling the cry. Cal and John looked at her in horror as they all listened for the inevitable shouts of alarm from the coastline guard. But there was silence, and they exhaled in relief.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, wiping tears away after Micah let her go. “Ow, ow, ow, my knee!” She bent down to rub it, drawing in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. “Ooh, that hurt something terrible. At least I found the boat, though.”

  Micah kneeled in the sand, placing his hand out. It fell on something solid and invisible. He retrieved a Life Stone from his jacket and whispered a short chant. The boat’s magical cloak dissolved, revealing itself beneath his touch. Half-wading in the pool, half sunk into sand, the twenty foot wooden skiff was just as Kyba described it, complete with two oars and solidly built. His instructions said the boat had been put there on his order in case a situation identical to theirs ever arose. Now it was their means of escape.

  “A rowboat?” Cal whispered skeptically. “I was expecting something… bigger.”

  “It’s perfect,” Micah replied, consulting his papers before rolling them up and stashing them away. “The less to spot, the better. We want a stealthy escape, not a high speed pursuit.”

  He made his way to the limestone piles and began climbing the rocks. The others followed, careful to make as little noise as possible. Peeking their heads over the uppermost boulders, the coast of the strait stretched north in a direct course before them, illuminated by more-than-sufficient crystal light gourds.

  “It’s like a warzone or something,” Charlotte whispered.

  Micah nodded. She wasn’t wrong. Guards armed with staves, swords and other weapons littered the beach, on patrol or guarding stone block outposts. The outposts surrounded a central complex with one entrance, secured by towering buttresses and war fences.

  “Listen closely,” he whispered, getting the attention of the others. “The Strait of the Final Word is the most fortified place on earth. Every foot of Carnel coastline north to south is just as heavily guarded as what you are now seeing. And the ports are even more so. Each mile is secured by three hundred men, one hundred per eight-hour watch. But they only patrol the beaches.” He pointed up. “There are also vicious beasts that patrol only the sky…” He pointed down. “… and water guardians who protect the deep. A three-fold defense of Carnel’s only non-ocean border.”

  “Which is why we can’t fly over the strait.” Cal pointed his muzzle down toward the beaches. “What are those things?”

  Micah and Charlotte’s gaze followed where he indicated. Along the coast, a row of immense steel statues extended indefinitely, looking out over the water. Each of the motionless black warriors carried a massive sword in their hands.

  Micah’s gaze hardened. “Those… are the Grenadine, and our foremost obstacle. They watch over the surface of the strait, and destroy all invaders without mercy. They are silent now, but will activate should anyone trespass over the surface.”

  “Grenadine?” Charlotte repeated. “Isn’t that some kind of syrup?”

  “Yes. A blood-red syrup. I’ll let your imagination deduce how those ancient guardians got the name.”

  She shuddered.

  John shook his head in dismay. “Why did Lord Kyba lead us here?”

  “Because this is the outpost of one of the Keyguards,” Micah replied.

  “I thought the locations of the Keyguards were kept secret?”

  “Indeed. How Lord Kyba obtained his information, I can only speculate, but he not only knew the locations of each, but he determined one who could be exploited. Admiral Francis von Breaker is the Keyguard for this sector, and according to Lord Kyba, he is brash and overconfident, regularly refusing the additional guard required to accompany him.”

  “It’s no wonder you wanted to wait a week before we came here,” Cal said. “You must have a plan.”

  Micah stooped down below the top rock, perching to look at his companions. “Yes. But mostly, I was training. I am about to infiltrate a place said to be impenetrable. The timing must be precise.” He unraveled the scarf from around his neck, folding it up and extending it to Charlotte. “Will you hold this for me? I want to offer nothing to the eye tonight.”

  “You’re going in there alone?” Charlotte asked fearfully, taking the scarf and clutching it to her chest.

  “Yes, but Lord Kyba has provided me the way. And remember, these defenses were created to keep people out of the country, not to prevent them from escaping. It gives us the advantage. Even so, I cannot do this alone. Teamwork is vital, so you must commit to memory the plan I have devised, for just one mistake may cost us our lives. But first…”

  He reached into a pocket for a quartet of Element stones, situating them between each of his fingers on one hand. He raised his arm, lifting his other hand to his face while whispering a long incantation. The chant was far more complex than a basic spell, and they could feel the deep magic in every syllable.

  “Cover,” he finally said. Standing up, he climbed the last rock, arm still raised. The crystals glowed in his hands, forming a lucent halo.

  “Micah, what are you doing?” John nearly shouted. “You’ll be seen!”

  “I don’t think so,” Cal replied. His head peeked over the boulders to look out across the shores. “Look.”

  Charlotte and John rose up to join him, immediately spotting what had become so apparent not only to Cal, but to every single guard on the beach or stationed before the outpost. A black, roiling deepness consumed the horizon, seeping over ocean and under sky as if to consume them both. Even in the dark of night, its sinister crawl was as plain as day, thick and unrelenting. Loud, bestial cries filled the air from the hidden creatures patrolling the skies, and the guards were stunned as the billowing void came closer.

  “It’s… it’s fog,” John whispered, wiping moisture from his glasses.

  “Are you sure?” Cal whispered. “It looks more like concentrated poison. I’ve never seen fog that… black.”

  Micah slowly lowered his arm, stashing his crystals away but still looking out over the beach. The devouring mist was nearly upon them, seeming ready to plunge them all into blindness. Charlotte looked up at him, shuddering when she saw the deadly focus behind his visible eye. Something was different about him… something had changed in the week since Kyba’s death. He was stronger… so much stronger. And his unfailing courage and confidence seemed twice as potent. She could feel it in every part of her being, and she found herself fearing not for her friends but for the men who stood in his way.

  Micah… just what kind of training did you put yourself through?

  *       *       *

  “Sir, an urgent letter.”

  Francis von Breaker sneered aside at his right hand captain as the inky-black fog drew close, filling his men with fear. What it was, he had no idea, but it seemed unnatural, even menacing. From his high vantage atop the bridge crossing over a fortified moat, the breadth of his charge could be seen. And every one of his soldiers were staring at the fog as it floated closer, consuming the deep blue gap between water and sky.

  The admiral grunted several times, wiping moisture from his forehead. His finely tailored uniform of crimson red and dark gray sagged under the weight of the sudden humidity, and droplets littered the sword sheathed at his side. He snatched the letter from the captain’s hand, grumbling beneath his breath. His full, auburn mustache twitched in irritation as he opened the letter and read it.

  “Double the guard… Commander Champlain… utmost importance,” he brokenly read aloud in a grainy voice infused with irritation. Then he shouted, swatting the letter with his hand. “From Nathanial Vash! That worm. Handing out orders like he’s the damned leader of the world.”

  “He’s the king’s appointed counselor,” the captain said.

  “I know that!” Breaker growled. “But that doesn’t mean he isn’t two bits short of an idiot. Who does he think he is? The fortifications are impenetrable. And even if this Black Son traitor could get through all our defenses, even he couldn’t possibly know of the barrier. And I’m the only man who has the key to open it.” He patted his side, jingling the bevy of keys on a large ring attached to his belt.

  The young captain’s nervousness augmented. “Champlain? As in Micah sinChamplain?”

  “That’s what is says. What of it?”

  “He’s well-known to those of us from District Eleven. The senior officers called him the Demon of Arcadia.”

  Breaker harrumphed, tearing the letter to pieces. “Alert the barracks and double the guard. I won’t have Vash coming here just to run back to the king pissing and crying like a blue-haired baby, telling him I’m not doing my job on this forsaken strip of cursed beach.”

  “Should I move more guards into the Vega Courtyard?”

  “There’s no point to that,” he replied with a shake of his hand. The black mist began its steady trek over the beach and would be upon the bridge in moments. “No one can get inside the Hole, not with a thousand men. Not even me. Now go!”

  Micah listened thoughtfully from his perch beneath the bridge. He heard the captain skirr off to the barracks, leaving Breaker alone. Leaning back against the stone support beams, Micah remained still and quiet in his concealed roost beneath the vast moat overpass. Thirty feet below lay a dry sand gully. The fog finally reached the bridge, wispy tendrils embracing him in its hiding presence and pluming in puffs against every new object it touched. The thick moisture coated and concealed far more effectively than regular fog, and Micah found himself impressed by Kyba’s magic.

  After waiting a few minutes for the creeping clouds to cover the area, he set to work. Falling over the side of the support beam, he caught the edge and planted his feet onto the column, leaping again upon contact to shoot up the side. With a lithe twist, he landed silently onto the bridge. The faint outline of Admiral Breaker could still be seen, pacing impatiently, keys rattling at his side.

  The Grenadine first. Then I’ll deal with him.

  Micah closed his eyes, focusing. His body disappeared in a faint flash of light, replaced by a black squirrel that scampered in the opposite direction. Micah’s small doppelganger skittered to the first courtyard entrance, a thick stone arch carved into the high wall. Passing quietly past several blinded guards, he came to the midlevel yard. The entrance to the Vega Courtyard featured one too many guards – instead of attempting to pass by, he clawed his way up another fortified barricade, dropping onto a narrow corridor atop the wall. After a pause to listen for any sign of danger, he transformed back into his human form, crouching.

  Peeking over the wall, he reconnoitered the expanse of the Vega Courtyard stretching far below, mired in fog. It was a wide dirt space between the entrance to the yard and the entrance to the Hole. Nothing else save for a single blur of light in the middle, casting shimmering waves through the mist. From the faint outlines of the glow, Micah realized it could only be a floating Life Stone, slowly rotating in place and emitting pulsing light runes to rotate all around the crystal.

  A Lycanthrope Tracer, Micah thought. Impressive. Lord Kyba did warn that Breaker was clever despite his failings.

  He took an Element Stone and a Life Stone from his jacket and connected the tips before pulling them apart. A pulsing white energy connected the two. Micah released the Element Stone, leaving a livewire magic cord to dangle from the other crystal. After a quick check of his surroundings, he tossed it over the wall in a high arc.

  The stone plunged through the air trailed by the cord of light, resembling a newborn spider adrift on a spindle of its own silk. Micah pointed his Element Stone and a stirring gust of wind poured into the fog, catching the stone in its fall and slowing it to a gentle descent. Carefully directing his hand, he brought his crystal down to meet the Lycanthrope Tracer until they floated side by side.

  “Persist,” he whispered.

  Through the cleared path created by his wind, he saw his stone erupt with a sphere of light runes identical to the original, but the symbols revolved in an opposite rotation.

  Micah nodded, putting his Element Stone away. That should do it.

  In that moment, faint voices broke the silence. With a quick burst, Micah hurtled himself over the wall, catching the ledge as he fell and keeping his grip. He hung over the edge in silence, hardly daring to breathe as two guards approached.

  “I’m telling you, I thought I saw something,” one said. “A light.”

  “I believe you,” his partner replied. “This fog sure ain’t natural. It gives me the creeps. The Admiral must be spooked, too, because he’s fortified the beaches. But are you sure it wasn’t just the moon peeking through?”

  “I guess it could have been…”

  “The Hole’s nothing to worry about. Nobody can get in there. I don’t even know what’s to be nervous about. There isn’t a soul who could get past the defenses, not even the king himself.”

  “Maybe… but this fog…”

  The voices trailed further down the path. Micah chanced a look. They resumed their patrol on the wall. He released his grip, dropping into the dirt chasm and landing with a muffled thud. He immediately transformed back into his squirrel doppel. The rodent froze, waiting for the worst, but no alarm issued – his tracer counter worked. He scampered through the mist, making for the entry to the dreaded chasm: a singular entryway with no door.

  This humble portal was the sole way inside the Vega Hole, the wicked place he had no choice but to infiltrate. The squirrel slowed in his approach, sure to muster no sound for a listening ear. Once beside the gateway, Micah changed back into his human form again. Huddled into a crouch against the thick stone frame, he took a quick check of his surroundings, making certain he could not be seen. Producing a Black Stone from his jacket, he used one hand to press the crystal against the rock while using the other to cover his right eye. An inky substance gushed from the tip of the crystal, swirling together to form a small sphere. An iris and pupil formed last, creating a black, makeshift eyeball. The slimy eye rolled up the wall, leaving a trail of oil. It slipped around the edge, shifting to look down the corridor. Everything it observed, Micah saw safely.

  A declining slope of a tunnel stretched a long way underground, well-lit and unpenetrated by the mist. It featured no doors but one, and that door was guarded by two alert soldiers, at attention facing the entryway. Micah guessed the length to be about one hundred feet.

  Releasing his spell, the eye melted into ink again, and his normal vision returned. He exchanged his Black Stone for two Life Stones, placing one each between his index and middle fingers. He whispered an incantation, and then turned his body to face the doorway.

  “Give me your light,” he whispered.

  The tunnel plunged into darkness. Micah dashed inside with his quickest speed, exploding down the tunnel. Before the two men could utter a word of confusion, he plowed into them, slamming their bodies into the door. When they doubled over, he grabbed their heads, cracking them together. They slumped to the ground, unconscious.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Checking the new silence to ensure no alarms were raised, Micah nodded, then raised his crystals again.

  “Your light returned,” he said.

  The corridor illuminated once more, crystal lanterns igniting to their former brilliance. He turned to the large iron door barring entry to the Vega Hole and took hold of the lever. It opened with a creak, and he pushed it wide, revealing a continuation of the passage, much less adequately lit and diving even further underground. He dragged the two unconscious guards inside and closed the door.

  Already he felt it. The sensation Kyba warned about. Dangerous and ancient, the subtle beats of their drums thumped inside his head. He retrieved the Rinx Lord’s notes, reading them for the hundredth time, hoping to garner new information he might have missed.

  He steeled himself. Now the hard part.

  Traversing the passage in silence, Micah felt sweat coat his body in a creeping glaze. His gaze zipped to and fro, searching in the dimness for that which barred his and Charlotte’s way to freedom. The guardians. The obliterators.

  The Anti-Seven.

  They were not the Seven. Rather, they were the Anti-Seven. That was how it started every time. A mere child’s story before Kyba revealed their existence to him, and Micah wished very much he still believed otherwise. For the Anti-Seven, the first of the Grenadine, were not of this world… so the legends all said. And they could not be killed or defeated. Swords of rainbow and preceded by a drumbeat that warned of their arrival and inevitable judgment. A drumming heard not by the ears, but by the heart. Until the very end, Micah had wanted to believe Kyba might be delusional. But the silent tap of the Un-Seven clashed so violently against his heart now, he could only believe that every legend must be true.

  He recognized what was happening to him. A shiver arrested his hand, and a clammy cold consumed his whole body. Effects he never truly experienced before but had often rendered from others in the past when he hunted them to capture or death.

  He was afraid.

  The tunnel took a wide turn, leading to an abrupt break and entry into a dark hall with an expansive domed ceiling. And more sudden than he could have possibly expected, they were there. Standing in a circle, the Anti-Seven faced each other, enclosing an empty space flooded in blue light from an unknown source. The ancient juggernauts were frozen, just like the other Grenadine lining the beaches, yet also completely unlike them. For these seven steel figures towered twenty feet tall, black as the darkness yet so detailed one could believe there was a human beneath all the vile armor that reeked of the danger within. And their hands enclosed the handles of horrifically magnificent swords, raised and at the ready. Each a different color, just as the stories said. Beyond the circle, another door was barely discernible in shadow.

  Standing just outside that room, the drumming intensified, threatening to make Micah nauseous. He shook his head and went back to Kyba’s notes. According to him, the beats served a purpose, for the Anti-Seven could not see. They could only feel. After much research, the Rinx Lord had come to this ingenious realization and provided a possible way to hide from them.

  “Possible” being the key word.

  Kyba’s notes suggested he was convinced his method would work, but facing the Anti-Seven, Micah’s confidence in the old Avalon could not have been weaker. Even so, it had to be done, and he mustered all his courage. Sitting on the ground, he took two Black Stones and a Life Stone and set the notes off to the side. In one hand, he lay one of the obsidian crystals flat against his palm. In the other, he situated the two remaining crystals, grasping them together and aligning their points. Then, he listened.

  For a few moments, Micah trained his ears to the pulse emitted from the seven steel guardians. When he felt ready, he whispered an incantation and began to tap the two crystals against the flat of the third. With each contact, a similar sound to the one issuing from the Un-Seven was made. Several minutes passed as Micah continued to do this, focusing all his effort to perfectly match the beat. Sweat soaked his mask, and over a dozen times, he had to start over. It had to be exact.

  Finally, after over a half hour passed, Micah suddenly shouted, “Persist!” and released the two crystals from his grip.

  But the glowing gems continued to tap against the Black Stone in his palm, floating in the air and hitting with the same rhythm he last employed, as if guided by an invisible hand. Micah slowly lowered his other hand, leaving the base stone to float in the air as well. He watched wide-eyed, trying to listen over his pounding heart. The taps seemed to be in sync with the deadly refrain. In normal circumstances, he would have waited hours or even days to ensure they were perfectly matched, but he had no time. The risk that he was successful in this attempt had to be taken.

  Micah cupped his hands underneath the tapping stones, gently lifting them up. The hovering crystals rose into the air as he stood. He produced an Element Stone, which immediately spurted a stream of water upon his command. The stream of liquid swirled into a sphere that surrounded the tapping crystals and then solidified. The transparent sphere featured holes so their sound would not be muffled, and a handle, which Micah grasped, holding out before him like a lantern.

  If he was successful, his crystals would act as a tuning fork and mask his presence from the guardians by perfectly matching the detecting beats, allowing him passage. The two sounds still thumped in harmony, lending Micah hope. Even so, he stood there several moments, his heart and head pounding all the more, threatening to confuse him. If he failed, he was as good as dead. That idea blanketed any positive thought, making his body tremble. Ideas of running away began to enter his mind.

  But then, as was often the case in times and places most unexpected, Charlotte was there. Abrupt yet soothing. Her face, her smile… she appeared before his closed eyes, warm as a blanket on a cold night. A lavender gaze looked upon him with admiration, intense enough to rival the real moon. She needed him, didn’t she? Maybe logic dictated what he was doing was likely to fail, but he suddenly found such thoughts foolish. Something more important was at stake. A beautiful girl… a dear friend needed him now, and that made all the sense in the world.

  He opened his eyes. Seizing a deep breath, he took a single step forward. Then again. Keeping his bauble before him, not daring to breathe. Another step. No movement from the keepers. He stepped between the nearest two. They remained still. Finally, with a heart aching to pound right through his chest, he stepped inside the circle.

  Nothing.

  He looked around wildly, but the Anti-Seven did not move. He did it!

  Not willing to find out he was mistaken, his feet somehow whisked his body across the room, and before he realized it, his hand was on the door lever, and he was pushing his way to the other side. Only when he closed the door behind him was he able to exhale. His legs now shook so violently, he had to lean back against the door to steady himself.

  By the Lord and Queen, what did I just do?

  He exhaled again, shaking the cobwebs loose and focusing on the goal at hand. Inside the small room he entered was but a single object, which Kyba had also detailed in his instructions. A sheet of parchment lay on a tall pedestal. He approached and looked upon the fragile paper. Written in ink, four rune seals surrounded a fifth, which glowed blood-red. Micah reached out, touching one of the seals with his finger and dragging it across the paper. The ink smudged as easily as if it had just been put to the paper. And the effect was instant. Energy drained from the room and the drumming of the Un-Seven ended immediately.

  Micah turned, ending the magic of his own crystals with a flick of his wrist and listening to the profound new silence. He nodded.

  Phase One, complete.

  *       *       *

  “Holy crickets!” Charlotte whispered hoarsely, trying not to be too loud.

  She looked down from the limestone slopes at John and Cal. They rushed from the boat to join her. “What is it?” Cal asked.

  “He did it! Look, look!” She pointed out over the beaches.

  “Charlotte, we can’t see anything in this mist,” John replied. “Only you can see through it.”

  “Oh, right… I forgot.” She turned to them, eye shining with the Full Moon. “But he’s done it! The Grenadine have been disabled! We should be able to go out on the water without being detected now. C’mon, let’s go!”

  She scampered down the rocks with John and Cal in pursuit.

  “How do you know this?” Cal asked.

  Charlotte picked up her dress and climbed into the boat, kicking off to launch the boat back into the tide pool. While Micah was gone, Cal had snuck back out and retrieved the bureau from a hidden location. Now, it was situated in the back of the boat.

  “Micah told me I would be able to tell when they were no longer a threat by using Foresight,” she replied. “I’ve been watching them since he went in. I could see a strange energy flowing into all of them before, but then suddenly, it vanished! Poof! Now, let’s hurry.”

  John and Cal helped guide the craft through the water, toward the narrow channel that fed into the strait. She grabbed an oar, but then realization poured over her, and she gasped with sadness and stood up in the boat.

  “Oh, dear… I forgot!” Tears sprang to her eyes. “This is where we part ways, isn’t it?”

  John smiled. “I’m afraid so. You have your journey and I have mine, love. Once I return home, I must make my journey to Tanaerum and deliver Lord Kyba’s sword to the king.”

  She bent down to squeeze him into a hug. “Dear, dear John Halifax. You have done so much for me. For all of us. How could I ever possibly repay you? I am so happy to have met you. Give my love to Miriam and the children.”

  “Promise me we can see each other again, and I shall do so.”

  “Deal!” She sat back in the boat, smiling and wiping away her tears.

  John gave one last shove, and the boat rocked into the strait. Cal hopped in, grabbing the other oar with his tail. Together, they began awkwardly directing the boat out to sea.

  John waved until he could no longer see the boat in the mist, wishing with all his heart they might somehow find a way to escape. Not just this ordeal, but all other trials that were sure to pursue them.

  *       *       *

  Micah retreated back into the night, his squirrel form dashing through the Vega Courtyard under the cover of mist and back to the open gate. A lone guard now remained at attention before the opening, leaving little doubt he had been successful in the infiltration. But yet another difficult task lay before him.

  Careful not to be seen or heard, the squirrel turned the corner and followed the wall until out of possible eyesight. He then crossed the path and climbed up the outer courtyard wall, dashing along the top until he was perched atop a column overlooking the bridge. Through the mist, the outline of Francis von Breaker could still be seen. Micah scurried down and raced onto the bridge before dropping over the edge. In midair, he transformed back and caught the edge of the support beams, pulling himself back into the nook in which he had first hidden.

  Breaker still paced back and forth. Micah frowned. If only he would stand still a moment.

  Agilely crawling over the network of stone support beams, Micah made his way under the bridge to Breaker’s position. When he was close, Micah carefully climbed up the side, peeking his head just enough to look through the gaps in the banisters. Breaker was just feet away, a permanent scowl tugging his mustache down his face. The immense ring of keys hung at his side, attached to his belt by a thick clasp. One of them would open the lock to the barrier.

  Micah considered the options available to him. Normally, he would conduct a silent assassination, leaving him free to hide the body and escape without notice, but killing was no longer a possibility. He made a promise to Charlotte, and he intended to keep it. The next best course would be to knock him unconscious, but that required more finesse than killing, and Kyba warned in his notes that Breaker was a Vilox, and a skilled fighter.

  As he weighed the best decision to make, a small bit of gravel came loose beneath his foothold against the side of the bridge, causing it to slide. He ducked, but the effect was immediate.

  “Who’s there?” Breaker shouted suddenly, drawing his sword.

  Micah frowned at the unlucky break and poised against the side of the bridge, bracing himself for the right moment. He only had one shot now. Breaker slowly approached his position, blade already crossing over the edge. Just when the tip of the man’s hat came into view through the banisters, Micah exploded.

  Launching off the side of the bridge and flipping up over the railing, he caught the edge and landed, leaping again to drive a foot into Breaker’s chest. The man staggered back, stunned but not as much as Micah hoped. He lunged for the admiral, but Breaker raised his sword.

  “UNDER ATTACK!” he shouted with all his might. “TO THE BRIDGE!”

  Micah sidestepped the weapon and plowed into him, thrusting him into the railing. He grabbed the ring of keys, ripped them from his belt, then shoved him over the edge. Breaker screamed as he plunged thirty feet, landing in a plume of sand at the bottom of the trench. Micah looked over, and was relieved to see the man cough violently.

  He’ll feel that tomorrow, though.

  He dashed across the bridge at top speed, securing the keys so they didn’t jingle. He could already hear the swarm of men converging on the bridge from every point around it. There was no time now. All he could do was hope Charlotte and Cal were already at the gate. He reached the beach just as a cluster of guards swarmed around the approach. Leaping over a line, Micah landed in the sand and kept running toward the strait. They shouted and followed, swords drawn and crystals blazing. He passed the line of useless Grenadine, but more and more soldiers converged, pressing him against the coastline.

  Micah produced an Element Stone, swiping it through the air. He jumped as far as he could, sailing over the water.

  “Sphere Racer,” he shouted.

  At his command, a swirl of water jettisoned from the waves, collecting into a ball of roiling liquid. Micah landed on the blue orb, but did not fall through. Instead, it caught him, holding his weight. Micah balanced himself, and the orb raced away from the beach, gliding over the surface of the water and churning up spray in its wake.

  Breaker wheezed, desperate to recover the wind knocked from his lungs. He groaned and sat up, clutching to his chest. Picking up his sword, he forced himself to his feet. In a flash of light, Breaker transformed into a blue jay. The bird zipped out of the trench, beating a straight line for the beach where his men stared dumbfounded after Champlain, who quickly disappeared into the mist. Like Breaker, they had fully expected the Grenadine to pursue him.

  Breaker flew down to the beach and transformed back. “What are you doing, staring like a bunch of morons? After him!”

  He raised an Element Stone. “Sphere Racer!”

  An orb of swirling water came to meet him on the beach. He jumped on and the ball of water churned off in hot pursuit of his quarry. At least twenty of his men possessing the Avalon spirit followed on their own spheres. Breaker drew his sword again, gritting his teeth as they raced over the water. There was no way he would allow this humiliation to stand.

  Charlotte and Cal listened intently, searching for some sign Micah was coming. Their boat drifted with the lulls of the water, unable to be directed any further. A barely discernible purple aura blocked their way, so they were forced to stop rowing.

  Charlotte reached out, touching the mysterious surface again. Upon contact, the barrier became more visible, a solid substance she could not describe. The translucent glow was infused with ghostly runes, floating freely through it as if they were adrift at sea as well. The barrier featured the main property of a wall in that it prevented her hand or anything else from passing beyond it; yet, it was unlike a wall in every other aspect. There was nothing to touch or feel. Her hand simply could not move beyond some unknown magical pressure, akin to pressing two like-end magnets together.

  “Will you stop doing that?” Cal said. “Who knows what it might do if you press on it too much.”

  “It’s just so pretty,” Charlotte replied, waving her hand back and forth against the obstruction. “At least we found the gate.”

  Cal looked back at the barrier. When they had first reached it, they turned to row alongside it, searching for an opening Micah told them was sure to be there. Eventually, they came across a thin white line that stretched upward with no discernible end. A small, dark space accompanied the line five feet above the surface of the water that could only be a keyhole.

  “We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves,” he said. “Even in this haze.”

  “Sorry,” she replied, sitting back in the boat. “I’m just nervous. I hope Micah is okay.”

  Cal was about to reply when he thought he heard something. His ears perked, directed toward the coast. It sounded like a shouting voice. At first, he thought maybe he was hearing things, but then a new sound came, drawing closer by the second. Something like rushing water.

  “Do you hear that?” he asked.

  Charlotte leaned forward. Her puzzlement turned to trepidation. “Sounds like a waterfall. It’s getting louder.”

  In a matter of moments, the sound grew to an undeniable decibel, rapidly approaching them from the north, parallel to the wall.

  “It’s coming right for us!” Cal said, bracing himself.

  Micah blasted through the mist, rocketing past them riding a bright blue sphere. It sprayed freezing water over them in a wide arc, causing Charlotte to scream. He missed hitting the boat, turning in a loop and coming back toward them. The mysterious globe of what appeared to be liquid blazed across the surface of the water, but he seemed perfectly at ease standing atop it.

  “Open the gate!” he shouted as he rushed past. He flung something at them before tearing back through the mist in the direction he had come.

  “Charlotte!” Cal shouted. “It’s the key! Catch it!”

  She recovered from her fright, spotting the golden ring as it sailed toward the boat. She leaned over the edge, reaching out both hands and snaring the heavy hoop. Cal caught her waist with his tail before she fell into the water. He pulled her back in. They gasped upon sight of the object Micah flung.

  “There’s like a million keys on this thing!” Charlotte moaned. “Which one’s the right one?”

  An explosion rocked the boat, kicking up waves that banged the vessel against the barrier. They looked in the direction Micah had gone, and a livid red light coursed through the mist.

  “He’s fighting them,” Cal said. “We have to get the gate open.”

  Charlotte rushed to the other end of the boat. Cal used an oar to bring them alongside the keyhole. She clumsily tried inserting a key, but the rollicking waves made it difficult. Finally, she got it in and turned it. There was a white-hot snap and the tip of the key melted. She pulled it out, mouth agape. The key was completely destroyed.

  “I guess that wasn’t the one,” Cal said. “Keep trying!”

  Key after key was destroyed. But there were so many that looked alike, it was impossible to determine which could be the right one. The sounds of battle just beyond made Charlotte a nervous wreck, intensifying as the seconds flew by. Soon, she was shaking all over, struggling to even insert new keys. Finally, when she thought she might be unable to keep her grip, one finally took. She gasped. A striped key with a golden hook turned. There was a click and an immense portion of the barrier faded away. Cal flicked his tail through.

  “That’s it! The gate’s open.” Cal said.

  “MICAH!” Charlotte screamed.

  “He’ll know already!” Cal said. “We have to get the boat through. Hurry!”

  She picked up the other oar and together they began rowing it past the magic barrier. The waves made it incredibly difficult, and several times they went backwards. It seemed they would never make it through.

  Then, he was there.

  As if from thin air, Micah suddenly landed in the boat, heaving, soaked, and bleeding from a deep gash on his shoulder. His eye narrowed in fierce determination.

  “Micah!” Charlotte squeaked.

  He snatched the oar from her hands and dashed to the back of the boat, dunking the oar into the water. Reaching to his jacket, he took an Alinda Plate and tossed the vivid blue glass square into the air. Drawing his sword with the same hand, he sliced the blade across the plate as it came down. A screaming torrent of water exploded from the glass, propelling the boat.

  The bow of the skiff rose from the sheer velocity, but Micah pushed hard on the oar, keeping it from flipping over. Charlotte and Cal dove to the floor, stunned by the sudden burst of speed. The plate stayed hovering beside Micah, blasting out volumes of torrential water and pushing them across the strait.

  But their enemies pursued. Led by Breaker, over a dozen soldiers still remained, racing over the waters on their spheres and slowly closing the gap.

  “Charlotte!” Micah barked.

  She raised her head. The hurricane wind tossed her hair and dress into a furious onslaught on her senses. “Yes?” she managed to shout.

  “Do you have the Eye of Mahaado with you?”

  She reached into a pocket and pulled out the crystal eyeball. “Here it is.”

  He handed her the oar. “I’m going to jump off. I want you to count to ten. Then push the eye. Do you understand?”

  A sudden lurch caused the boat to jump a wave. Charlotte clutched the glass object tight in her hand and grasped the oar with both arms, steeling herself for the impact. The boat smacked against the surface several times before continuing on.

  “Do you understand?” Micah shouted even louder.

  She nodded furiously.

  He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. Then, he jumped off. A new water sphere caught him, and he raced back to meet the pursuers again. They swarmed around him, disregarding the boat.

  “One… two… three…” Charlotte awkwardly shouted the numbers, disoriented and nearly ready to pass out. Cal helped her hold onto the oar, keeping the boat from nosing straight into the air, but the sheer speed and force seemed ready to snap the piece of wood in two. “Five… six…” More explosions in the distance met their ears, loud enough to hear even over the din of the violent wind.

  The counting seemed an eternity, but finally, she came to the end. “Ten!” she shouted, pressing the iris.

  Just like before, Micah materialized in the boat, this time with an audible pop. He thrust one hand down to keep from falling while the other snared the oar. He looked up at her.

  “Good.”

  He stood up and directed the oar with a push, turning the boat in a wide arc that sent up a massive plume of spray. They were heading northeast now, but after maybe a minute in the new direction, the Alinda Plate lost steam, and the water receded. Micah pushed the plate away, and it fell into the ocean. Moments later, the boat was reduced to a glide, and welcome silence returned. Micah put a finger to his lips, indicating to be quiet. Charlotte and Cal immediately nodded. He took the other oar from Cal and sat, proceeding to row with powerful strokes. Despite the blood pouring from the wound in his arm, the boat sliced through the water.

  All the while, they listened. They listened and waited, unable to do anything else but hope their plan had been successful. Micah pushed without rest, urging the boat into a pace that could rival any sailboat’s speed.

  After half an hour, no one came. And any hint of sound comparable to a sphere racer had long abandoned pursuit, leaving nothing but the placid waves of the strait to surround them. When this became apparent, Charlotte, Cal, and Micah looked at each other in relief and perhaps a small amount of joy.

  It appeared they had done the impossible and escaped.