Spectral Crown: Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Is this the beginning of the end?”

Or is this the end of the beginning? Who can really say where one unit of time ends and the next begins, because, as they say, sometimes you have to close a door to open a window. Or whatever. The end of Spectral Crown is really starting to creep up on me, and then I won’t really have any filler material left to post, so I have to start coming up with something soon, because otherwise I’m going to really start planning pretty hard for this thing in advance. Also, I have absolutely run out of time for writing witty things to say at the beginning of these next chapters because, again, I prepared the previous five or so in a single day sometime back in like June or July or something. I have to start packing, like for real this time, and I have to do a bunch of other dumb shit like pay a speeding ticket. Have you ever gotten a speeding ticket? They’re stupid and expensive for no apparent reason and I hate them. Like, I get it, you aren’t supposed to go above a certain speed for safety. That’s fine. But they’re so much money, and I feel like the people they impact the most are the ones who can’t actually afford to pay them, and then it’s just a poor tax! Shit is whack. And also I am a bad driver. But shit is still whack!

Ok well I have to actually go now but I’ll be back next week, because on this day in real time, whenever this posts, I’ll hopefully be actually settled into Minneapolis and, hopefully, finding a job that will actually pay me money instead of this blog which actively reduces the amount of money I have every year. Maybe by the time this comes out, though, I’ll have an actual job, and I’ll be working as a guy who finds birds or something. Or, more likely, I’ll be stuck at home scouring job listings to find anything that will hire me. Finding jobs sucks! I did not choose to exist and now I have to pay for it? What kind of a racket are they running up there? It’s days like these when I want to go to a swamp and become moss. Don’t test me, I’ll do it, too. The moss man of Minnesota. Got a nice ring to it.

Previous chapter here!

Spectral Crown, by Andy Sima: Chapter Twenty-Nine

Once I was beyond the tomb of the two Blestemat royals, I realized that I had an uphill battle ahead of me.  I not only had to figure a way out of the tunnels in the walls of the castle, which were confusing enough already, but I also had to evade Laurentiu, if he was still down here.

            There was a peculiar beating in my heart, a sort of instinct that fluttered about inside of me and pulled me down one path or another.  Perhaps it was memory.  Perhaps it was King Titus.  I had no way of knowing, and I did not particularly wish to find out.  I did find my way back through maze of tunnels to the shattered wall and up the stairs to the secondary kitchen.  I checked around me, making sure I was not being followed, and ascended the steps.

            I found myself in the kitchen, as expected, and observed that the cask of red wine still coated the floor, its shattered remains spilling its contents.  The rest of the kitchen was in its usual condition.

            I opened up the door and entered back into the court room where the two families of royals were gathered, still discussing some odd tripe.  I noted that Laurentiu was seated in his chair, as if he had never left.  Though his hair did have an especially liquid sheen to it. 

            I took my place behind Prince Maynard, as always, and my mother hissed at me.  “Saelac,” she said.  “Where did you go?  I was afraid you were dead!”

            “I very nearly was,” I confided.  “But I’m alright now.”

            Sorina, hearing us speak, glanced around.  When she saw me, her eyes narrowed and her gaze snapped to Laurentiu.  Laurentiu pretended not to noticed, and picked at a stray feather in his clothes.  Iacob, too, turned around and noticed me.  When he perceived the situation, he broke into a thick sweat and slapped on an apologetic smile.  He shrugged at his sister, who did not notice his actions, and I stared at him.

            “I believe it may be a good time to break for lunch,” Iacob said suddenly, standing up and startling the Uradel court.  The Blestemat court, in their turn, did not respond beyond a few wary glances in Sorina’s direction.

            The Blestemat princess stood up, then, and addressed the room.  “I agree,” she said.  “Please, Prince Maynard, King Adalbert, Queen Annalise, and the rest of the Uradel court, meet us in the dining hall.  My brother and I must discuss some matters.”

            There was a nervous laugh from Laurentiu’s direction, but when I looked over, he was as stony-faced as all the other Blestemat court members.  The Uradel court members were chatting amongst themselves anyway.  All except Maynard and Adalbert, who stared at Sorina, their eyes never leaving her figure.

            Iacob clapped his hands, and his servant-creature stepped out from the shadows of the room’s edge, followed by Sorina’s servant-creature.  They looked human enough and the Uradels didn’t know any better.

            “Lead our guests and their servants to the dining hall,” Iacob instructed.  “And do not wait for us.  You may begin serving once lunch is prepared.”

            “Yes, Prince Iacob,” the tallest servant-figure said, and bowed to the prince.  Sorina’s maid-creature was herding the Uradels up and out the door.  My mother, Simon, the remaining servants, and I were also guided out of the room.

            The maid-creature took the front of the train of Uradel citizens, and we were soon followed by the Blestemat court and Iacob’s servant, though, as expected, Iacob and Sorina were absent.  I could imagine the yelling match between the two.  Though I could not quite say what the exact details would have been, it was probably something about how Sorina finds me to be a threat, perhaps rightfully so, and Iacob finds me to be an asset.

            As we walked through the halls of the castle, passing familiar tapestries and statues, my mother and Simon asked me a number of questions.  I kept my answers terse.

            “Where did you go?” my mother asked.

            “Into the tunnels again,” I answered.

            “Why would you do that?” Simon was appalled.

            “Because I had to.  It was a necessity,” I responded.

            “A necessity how?” Simon asked.

            “My life was in danger,” I answered.

            “Saelac, you must be more careful,” my mother said.  “For my sake, if not for your own.”

            “It was not my choice to be in danger,” I said.

            “True as that may be,” Simon said, “are you not still in danger?”

            “What makes you say that?” I asked, craning my neck over my shoulder.  Laurentiu, somewhere far behind me, stuck out from the rest of the group.  His eyes reflected a hate I had only ever seen in Reinhard.

            “You seem to have made some powerful enemies,” my mother said, “and they are staring at us now, I suspect.”

            “Wonderful.  Now we’re all in danger,” Simon said.

            “We’ve been in danger since Iacob first appeared in the Stalpert valley,” I said.  Though I had been the safest, up until now.

            “They want your head on a platter, Saelac,” my mother said.

            “Not they.  Just Sorina,” I said.  “Iacob wants me alive.”

            “Any why would that be?” Simon hissed.  I considered, for just a moment, telling him the truth.  My mother could have handled it.  But Simon could not.

            “He still believes that we are more useful alive, as we keep the Uradels calm,” I said.  It wasn’t entirely a lie.

            “Be as that may, how do you intend to stay alive?” my mother said.

            “The same way I have been up until this point.  Keep my head down, try to gather information, and hope for the best,” I answered.  My mother nodded.  She had expected no different answer.  Simon looked ready to pop, but he had nothing more to say besides a few incoherent, stammered questions.  Occasionally, he would scratch at his forehead, and mumble something about a migraine.

            Our few remaining troops marched onward, led by the handmaid, and eventually we found ourselves back in the dining hall.  It looked as it always had, with long tables covered in silverware and covered plates.

            My mother, Simon, and I took our seats at the table, with Franz and Freda sitting down next to us, and the surviving other servants filtering in around us.  I glanced around, making note of how empty the hall felt, how many of us had perished.  Ema.  Kolte.  George.  Greta.  Even Reinhard was dead now.  And those were the ones I could name.  Franz was still feeling George’s death, and Kolte’s too.  Freda certainly missed Greta and Ema.  No one missed Reinhard.  My mother mourned their passing, too, but I felt just a strange emptiness.  This was the way things were now.

            “Well, they did tell us to begin eating, did they not?” one of the royals said.  The servant came over and began uncovering the plates, displaying for us the typical delicious meals that I had become accustomed to.  Although I was relieved there were no more screaming heads.

            I pulled apart the roast bird that was before me, carving and passing pieces to my mother, Simon, and whoever else asked for it, and I became keenly aware that I was being watched.  I glanced over at Laurentiu and he was discussing something with the stable master, Balaur.

            The two of them, with their black hair and pale white faces, continued to glance at me from time to time.  Laurentiu, at one point, looked like he was going to stand up and come towards me, but the stable master pulled him back down, chuckling to himself and winking at me.

            “Those two Blestemats are focusing quite a level of attention on you, Saelac,” my mother said.

            “Yes, they are,” I agreed.

            “Well, so are Maynard and Adalbert, but you don’t need to worry about them, now,” Simon said.  I looked around and Maynard and Adalbert were indeed staring at me.

            “They are.” I said.  I gazed at the prince of Uradel and his father.  Prince Maynard smiled, his teeth full of something stringy, and gestured for me to come over to him.  His odd blue skin seemed thinner than usual.

            “I must attend to the prince,” I said, and stood up from the table.  I moved over to my ward, doing my best to draw as little attention as possible and stood next to him.  “Yes, your majesty?”  He was seated next to his father, and both of them were now looking at me.

            “Why, Saelac, I have heard quite a few stories about you from my bride-to-be,” Maynard said, voice papery.

            “Yes, she has told us quite a good deal,” King Adalbert added.  Somehow, Queen Annalise seemed oblivious to this odd turn of events, smiling, drinking, and chatting with a court member next to her.

            “I see, your majesties,” I said.  “How may I be of service?”

            “Sorina has requested,” Maynard said, checking his fingernails and continuing to smile that self-satisfied grin, “that I have you executed.  Do you have any idea why that would be?”

            “Yes, Saelac, tell us why my daughter-in-law would want my own son’s attendant put to death?” King Adalbert smirked.  They acted as if they knew something I did not, but chances were they knew even less.

            “I could not imagine,” I said.  “I am disappointed to hear that.  Surely you will not execute me,” I said, a blasé as I could.  With Reinhard gone, none of the Uradel court could wield an axe.  But there were still the Blestemat guards to worry about.

            “You don’t seem surprised,” Maynard said.

            “No, you do not, Saelac,” King Adalbert said.  “Why don’t you tell us why Sorina thinks I should execute you?” King Adalbert said.  Maynard smiled, and picked at his teeth with the knife in his hand.

            “I do not know,” I said.

            “Pity,” Maynard said.  “In that case, I will turn you over to the Blestemat guards.  They seem to know what you do not.”  I began to sweat a little bit.  If Laurentiu couldn’t finish the job, then the guards very well might.

            King Adalbert clapped his hands, and suddenly Iacob’s personal servant was there.  “Please escort Saelac to the castle barracks,” the Uradel king said.  “At the request of Princess Sorina and her fiancé.”

            The tallest servant pulled its face into something resembling a smile, though it was far too wide to be anything remotely human.  Maynard and Adalbert did not react.  “With pleasure,” the thing said.  And then the servant group wrapped me in its doughy arms, like I was sinking in wet clay, and dragged me to the back of the room.

            “Do you understand what is happening, sir Bergmann?” the creature said.

            “Not particularly,” I answered.

            “I am not surprised,” it said.  “No matter.  The snake guards do not care who feeds them, as long as they are fed.  You will not be missed.”  I struggled and tried fighting back, but the skin of the thing was entirely wrapped around my wrists.  Though to any Uradel, it must have looked like I was simply being led away.

            “How come Sorina did not do this the first time?” I said.

            “She wanted to,” the servant said.  “But Laurentiu wanted to hunt.  He will be punished for that.”

            As I passed my mother and Simon, they watched in horror, for they were certainly seeing the dull, lifeless tentacles that rippled around my arms like living chains.  My mother stood up and reached out for me, but Simon pulled her back down.

            “Simon!” my mother said.  “What are you doing?”

            “I don’t know,” he said.  He momentarily lurched for me, moving out of his chair and knocking it over.  His face contorted wildly and he fell to the ground, apparently out cold.

            Iacob and Sorina walked into the room, with all the silence and grace they carried.  They immediately noticed me.  Sorina smiled, and turned to her brother, saying something I could not here.  Iacob, too far away, threw out his hand.

            “Let him go,” he said, forcefully enough that I could hear him from the other end of the room.  None of the Uradel royals looked up.

            The clay arms that held me released with a startling swiftness, and the servant retreated a few steps back.  It contemplated me, eyes watching from within the slowly rippling depths of its face.

            “Prince Iacob,” it said, “I have been instructed by King Adalbert of Uradel to escort Saelac Bergmann to-”

            “I know what they told you to do,” Iacob said.  He and Sorina strode over to me.  “Now step back and return to the kitchen.”

            The thing behind me turned away and slithered into the shadows, but suddenly Sorina spoke up, saying, “No, come back here.  Take this boy to the barracks.”  And then the group of servants reappeared and enveloped me in itself again.

            “Sorina,” Iacob said.  He had begun to look desperate.  “We discussed this.  You agreed to the deal.”

            “I agreed to our deal if you delivered.  You have yet to deliver,” Sorina said.  Iacob rubbed his hands together, face nervous.  I had never seen him so fearful before.

            “Yes, but there are some matters that we must work through, some technicalities, and I believe that-” Iacob started.

            “Do it, Iacob,” Sorina said. 

            “Fine,” Iacob said, and he snapped his fingers.  There was a moment of silence.

            And then Simon Taylor’s head exploded.

            My mother screamed and leaped back, for the man had just been about to pull himself up off the floor.  Now, his headless body tumbled to the ground.  My mother scrambled backwards, staring and pointing at the inexplicable explosion.

            Franz and Freda, and the other servants, seeing this, jumped up, too, and crowded around the fallen body of their de facto leader.  I strained my eyes to see.  There were splashes of blood all about, on the table and on the floor and chairs and even on my mother.  The dining hall had grown silent, and now everyone was staring at Simon’s dead body.

            “Oh dear,” the stable master said.  “I haven’t seen this for a long time.”

            “What happened to him?” my mother screeched.

            “Why did his goddamn head explode?” Franz yelled.  The Uradels craned their weak necks to see the carnage.  Iacob’s head was hung low, and he lowered his hand.

            The neck stump at the top of Simon’s body began to wriggle.  The hole that had been his esophagus began to contract in undulating motions, as if it were trying to breathe.  Something began to emerge from the hole.

            The servants stumbled back, realizing what has happening, and watched in stunned horror as a small black beak, a small black head, small black wings, and a small black tail clawed their way out of Simon’s neck.  And before us was sitting a small black raven, covered in blood, eyes looking around intelligently.

            It hopped over in my direction, pecking at Simon’s glasses.  It picked them up and flew towards Iacob, who outstretched his arm.  The raven dropped the spectacles into Iacob’s open palm, and with one deft motion, Iacob crushed them into a fine dust.

            “There,” Iacob said.  “It is done.”  He leaned into the newborn raven and whispered into its ear.  It blinked, head bobbing, and cawed once, hesitant, before flying over to Sorina.  It perched on her shoulder and preened its feathers.

            “Thank you,” Sorina said.  She turned her attention back to me and the servant thing, who had been momentarily forgotten in the commotion of Simon’s death and the bird’s birth.  “Let him go,” she said.  I felt the presence of the being pull away, grumbling as it did so, and it faded back into the shadows where it had come from.  “Everyone, please return to your meals.  Our evening’s entertainment has ended.”  Sorina grinned and cooed to the raven as one would a baby.

            The Uradel and Blestemat royals turned back to whatever inane conversation they had been having before, completely ignoring the group of servants who were gathered around the corpse of Simon.

            “I demand an explanation!” my mother yelled.

            Sorina stopped walking and turned back around, eyes sharp and dangerous.  The raven cawed on her shoulder.  “Iacob gave me a gift, in return for the continued existence of your son.  A child for a child.  You should be grateful, you hag.  Do not speak to me like that again.”  She turned back around and strode away.  She soon took her seat at the dining table, where the conversation had ignored us and our plight.

            My mother, still stunned, fell to her knees.  She stared at the lifeless cadaver of Simon, and then glanced up at me.  Her eyes were full of fear and confusion, an expression no different than my own.

            I turned to Iacob.  “You exchanged Simon for me,” I said.

            “In practice, yes,” Iacob said.  He looked up at me, his eyes pleading for something that I couldn’t quite decipher.  “You will not be executed now.”

            I stared at Iacob and then to Simon’s body, the ground bloodied and coated in feathers where his head should have been.  “How?” I asked.

            “I planted a raven in Simon a long time ago.  One of the last,” Iacob said.  “It was time for it to hatch.”

            None of it made sense, but I knew that Simon was dead, and that Iacob had bargained with his sister for my protection.  This new raven was not Simon.  Not really.  Whatever Maynard and Adalbert had been plotting with the servant-creature was null.  Sorina had a hand in all of it.

            Iacob turned and walked away, glancing back once at me, his eyes deep and mournful.  Did he regret killing Simon, or did he regret losing a pawn in the game he and sister played?   Iacob took a seat at the table next to his sister and began to eat.  The group of servants and I stood around the body of Simon, not sure of what to say.

            As we stood, a snake guard pushed through us and picked up Simon’s body with ease.  It hefted the lifeless thing over its shoulder and turned away.  As it turned, the Blestemat soldier met my gaze.

            “Long live the king,” it hissed, with its serpentine smile.  All I heard was the laughing of skeletons.

There are like six chapters left in this book, but I’m really going to make you wait for them, if I know what’s good for me. Or, if you really want to read them now, you can set me up with a literary agent and publish my book! What a twist that would be. But thank you for reading!