The Mage’s Granddaughter: First Attack
Fictional Story: Chapter 2
“Get in. On the other side,” said Admiral Whetstone.
“What?” Zari asked, blocking the driver’s side door of her car.
“I’m driving. Get in! Hurry up.”
Zari stepped away in surprise. She had never heard such harshness in her grandfather’s voice. The emerald flecks in his amber eyes flickered like wildfire.
“Grandy, I’m sorry… I just wanted to help,” Zari said as she fastened her seatbelt.
Admiral Whetstone pressed his lips together until they disappeared.
Zari glanced at her grandfather’s fearsome profile with admiration and regret. She regretted her actions in the courtroom earlier that morning.
I’ve messed up again, Zari thought.
She looked out the window at the palm trees speeding past. But inside the car, time moved at a snail’s pace. Minutes felt like hours. She wished her grandfather would fuss at her. Punish her. Take away her favorite AI game, Aetherscape. Anything, just not this heavy, deafening silence that hung in the air, dense as morning fog.
After what seemed like hours, though it could not have been more than ten minutes, Admiral Whetstone said, “Look in the glove box, Zari.”
“My birthday isn’t until next month,” she said, staring at the gift box.
“I’ll be away for a short — ”
“Will you be ba — ”
A massive, blurred shape smashed into the car. The thunderous impact boomed into an explosion of shattering glass and warping steel. The car spun out of control. Tires screeched against the asphalt as it became airborne.
Zari screamed.
Admiral Whetstone grabbed his walking cane and waved it in the air. Time stood still. He snatched the golden lion’s head off the walking cane. The walking cane morphed into a gleaming silver sword with a pearl eagle for the handle.
He pushed the golden lion’s head into Zari’s right hand. It melted into warm shimmering gold that flowed from the palm of his granddaughter’s hand onto her wrist, forming an elegant gold bracelet.
With haste, Admiral Whetstone whispered, “Ethereal Mantle of Light, reveal yourself.” A mesmerizing cloak that radiated a soft, protective aura of light appeared. The fabric shifted in hues that ranged from the gentle glow of dawn to the brilliant radiance of the midday sun to starry midnight black.
The enchanting cloak wrapped itself around Zari.
“Stylus of UnSea, come forth,” said Admiral Whetstone. An ancient mystical stylus, about the size of a number two pencil etched in hieroglyphics, appeared with blinding brilliance. It became a beam of light that disappeared into Zari’s gold bracelet.
“Three weapons, I give thee,” said Admiral Whetstone.
Releasing Zari’s seatbelt, he pushed her out of the glassless passage side window.
*****
Admiral Whetstone lay there, fully aware of his surroundings. That meant he had won for now. Zari lives. But for how long? There was no turning back on his decision at this point.
“Good, you’re awake,” said Nurse Mariam as she walked into the room, pushing a rolling medication cart.
“How long have I been out?”
“Not long. What did you fight? I’ve never seen gashes like yours.”
Admiral Whetstone felt his forehead.
“Don’t worry. No scars on that handsome face. The Jijee powder did its job.” She smiled at Admiral Whetstone. It was a familiar smile. She had been his nurse at Rising River Hospital for over fifty years.
She handed him a small purple pill and a cup of water.
“You haven’t aged a day,” Admiral Whetstone said before swallowing the pill with one big gulp of water.
“You’re too kind, my dear boy.”
Dr. Strauss knocked on the door. She walked into the room without waiting for a response.
Nurse Mariam winked at Admiral Whetstone and left the room.
“I’m Dr. Strauss. Please call me Savannah, Preferred One. It’s an honor to care for you.”
“Where’s Dr. Abbott?”
“He retired several months ago.”
An uneasy feeling washed over Admiral Whetstone. He searched Dr. Strauss’s aura but couldn’t identify a source for his agitation.
“I’ve healed you as best I can.”
Dr. Strauss took a step closer to Admiral Whetstone. Her gaze fixed on his weatherworn, chiseled face.
“But it’s not enough,” she continued. “There’s a piece of foreign material trapped in your left lung. The tip of it points at your heart. I can’t remove it because it can move on its own. I’ve stabilized it for now, but that’s all I can do.”
“Say what you mean, Dr. Strauss.”
“As long as that material is in you. And its source lives. You can’t go beyond these walls.”
Admiral Whetstone got to his feet. He balanced himself with his walking cane, leaning against the bed. Then he stood up straight.
“We’ll see about that, Dr. Strauss.”
“Maybe you can go out into the hospital’s gardens. No further, though. That material will pierce your heart without the force field provided by — .”
“Get out.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you. But — “
“Get out of my sight!”
Doctor Bramagnus, Chief of the Mystic Wing of the hospital, walked in as Dr. Strauss rushed out of the room.
“Doctors are here to help,” Dr. Bramagnus said.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” said Admiral Whetstone.
“Listen, old friend, The Sagacian Council is in an uproar. I tried convincing them to let you recover longer, but they insisted you immediately report to the Fountain Room. Clean clothes in the closet.”
*****
Admiral Whetstone looked out the window at the main hospital building’s sleek, state-of-the-art, multi-story design. He smiled. How ingenious. The people in that part of the hospital were oblivious to its true purpose.
He refocused his attention on getting dressed, ignoring the sharp pain that suddenly zig-zagged across his chest.
Once in the elevator, he waved his walking cane over the panel of buttons. A new set of buttons appeared. Without hesitation, he pressed the first one. Instead of the elevator moving up or down, it moved sideways with such speed that he had to grab onto the handrail to avoid tumbling to the floor.
Admiral Whetstone stumbled off the elevator into a tiny foyer with an ascending well-lit spiral staircase.
As he climbed the stairs, each step felt heavier than the last. The sterile chemical-scented air was stifling. He stopped several times to catch his breath. Finally, after five flights of stairs, he reached the Fountain Room.
The entrance to the room was an iridescent cascading waterfall. Only someone from the preferred bloodline could pass safely through its waters.
Admiral Whetstone stepped through the waterfall.
“Greetings, Preferred One,” said the members of the Sagacian Council in unison. They sat around a rectangular crystal conference table with silver and gold etchings beneath a grand crystal dome roof with an elaborate crystal chandelier hanging from it.
“Greeting Elders.”
“Please take a seat,” said the elder sitting at the head of the conference table wearing a golden robe with a crimson hood. Five elders sat on each side of the table dressed in silver robes with silver hoods. The elders flipped their hoods down to reveal their ceremonial faces.
Admiral Whetstone looked at the comfortable leather chair at the foot of the conference table. He continued to stand, though weak, and his breathing labored. He balanced himself on his walking cane. He was secretly pulling strength from it.
The elder in the golden robe said, “This is a disaster!”
“A Drakikon attacked me,” said Admiral Whetstone.
“We know that.”
The elder in the golden robe looked around the room at the emotionless elders in the silver robes who remained silent.
“How did it find you?” asked the elder in the golden robe.
“I don’t know.”
Admiral Whetstone lied. He knew it was because Zari used her powers in the courtroom. Powers that vibrated with the same frequency as his own.
“You were forbidden to use your powers.”
“I didn’t.”
“You’re missing three keystones. Where are they?”
“I gave them to Zari.”
“Zari, your granddaughter? Why?”
“She was with me when the attack happened. I had to protect her.”
“You gave such weapons to a sixteen-year-old child! What were you thinking?”
Admiral Whetstone’s grip tightened around the smooth surface of the pearl handle of his walking cane. A surge of revitalizing energy rushed up his arm, spreading throughout his body in a burst of soothing warmth. The pain in his chest lessened. His breathing returned to normal. He looked up at the fading sunlight dancing on the crystal dome.
“Answer me!” demanded the elder in the golden robe.
Admiral Whetstone tapped his walking cane on the ocean-blue travertine-tiled floor. The crystal chandelier shook with such force that the elders all flinched.
With the authority of who he was, he returned the menacing gaze of the elder in the golden robe.
The elders all bowed their heads.
“I’m aware of the consequences of my actions. My family has protected our kind for thousands of years. For generations, we’ve fought and died. I’m the last… Zari is the last of the oldest bloodline. She must live.”
“We mean no disrespect,” said the elder in the golden robe as they all looked up again. “But you’re risking all our lives,” he continued. “The child does not have the gift. You told us so yourself.”
“I’m aware of that,” said Admiral Whetstone.
“The Drakikons already possess two keystones. Weapons they use to hunt and kill us. Our very own weapons! Imagine their power if they get hold of your granddaughter’s three keystones.”
“My grandfather and my father both lost their lives defending us while trying to recover those two keystones.”
“Keystones that your great grandfather let be taken in the first place,” said the elder in the golden robe.
“That’s never been proven,” said Admiral Whetstone.
Admiral Whetstone looked around the table, stopping to pause his gaze on each of the elders. One of them was a traitor. He sensed it for years. But nothing convinced him more than when his daughter and her husband died in a car crash after receiving an urgent message from one of them.
Which one, though?
“You’re right,” said the elder in the golden robe. “We must not let them form the shield,” he continued, “It contains knowledge of the secret passage. We’re all doomed if the Drakikons get hold of it.”
“It takes all seven keystones to form the shield,” said Admiral Whetstone. “That will never happen. I have a plan,” he added.
“You must protect us. If you cannot do so, we will have no choice but to choose another preferred one and demand that you and Zari turn over the five keystones y’all possess,” said the elder in the golden robe.
“The Preferred One is born. Not selected,” said Admiral Whetstone.
“Your granddaughter is a dud. It appears the birthright succession will end with you.”
The elders all placed their right hands on the table. A rainbow of lights gyrated above each elder’s head.
“Close the circle of light so that we may return home,” said the elder in the golden robe.
Admiral Whetstone raised his walking cane. The rainbow strands of lights connected and formed one continuous gyrating strand that flowed through his walking cane.
The elders flipped on their hoods. A crystal shield covered their faces. The crystal table and chairs dropped beneath the floor.
As they all disappeared out of sight. The elder in the golden robe yelled, “Do not fail, Preferred One!”
A massive decorative water fountain surrounded by flowering plants mimicking the smells and sounds of a natural waterfall rose from the floor.
Its waters splashed onto the travertine tiles.
Admiral Whetstone, weak and exhausted, stepped back through the waterfall. The pain in his chest became unbearable. His body stumbled over the spiral staircase railing.
As he fell, his walking cane began to transform.
