Secret of the Sunstones, Part 1: The Wanton Kingdom

Chapter XLIV : Angela

Lateday of Somnus, Eighth Day of Autumnmoon

Matthias followed the Kitezhian man named Konrad down the stairwell beneath the dilapidated buildings of the Altestadt. It took him through a series of tunnels known as the Network. Once an ancient water and sewer system, it was recently renovated to serve as an emergency bunker. The tunnels were vast, running the entire length of the city—and beyond. Over the course of centuries, passages and entryways collapsed, turning the remaining active tunnels into a maze that only those with intimate knowledge could navigate.

Matthias traversed the passages, which were lit in pale blue light from luminess along the walls. At every turn, droves of military soldiers marched. Any casual observer on the surface would naturally think that Angkor had wiped out the Kitezhian defenses. But in truth, the local resistance had escaped underground. Angkor must have realized this, too, because after their airships departed, they left behind a sizable occupation. They clearly hadn’t found an entrance to the Network, which kept the siege at a stalemate.

Rungholt’s survival now depended on keeping the Network hidden. No wonder Konrad and his crew were so apprehensive about having a Gnostic Knight in their midst. They must have been under strict orders to accommodate, by no less than King Henrich himself. Otherwise, they would have ensured that Bram never saw the entrance. Still, Konrad kept a steady eye on the Knight throughout the march.

Matthias had doubts about Bram, too. From the very beginning, he found the man suspicious. Regardless of whether he dressed in civilian clothes, Bram walked with the swagger of a professional. And as soon as he introduced Yuri as his daughter, Matthias knew his story was rubbish.

Real fathers behaved differently around their daughters. It wasn’t the same each time, but Matthias could usually catch a glimmer in the father’s eyes, a crease of fondness around his lips, or a sigh of adoration. Bram of course had none of these. He was a man acting a part in order to get a free ride to Kitezh, and Matthias felt like a sucker for letting him tag along.

Yet, he couldn’t say no, either. Not when he looked into Yuri’s eyes and saw how much the child doted on him. The question was, why? Based on Bram’s claims, he protected the child from Angkor’s attack on her village. But, it usually took time for children to emerge from traumas and adjust to new adults. Yuri treated Bram like a longtime family member, which seemed strange to Matthias, who happened to be a real father.

There was clearly more to the story. Perhaps, more than even Bram knew. The child’s powers were vast, and she was intelligent and aware beyond her years. Something guided her to do what was necessary, and that ‘something’ urged her to align with Bram. Matthias had spent a lifetime studying magic, including ancient enchantments and supernatural forces. But this was something much greater.

The world was full of mysteries. No one understood that better than a man with two types of blood, who spent more than fifty years studying both types of magic. Even so, the magus hadn’t seen anything like Yuri. No scholar could boast knowledge in everything. They kept open minds and a willingness to accept new mysteries. However, few men held as many mysteries as Bram. Each time he had a chance to come clean, he held something back. Matthias didn’t even know Bram was a Gnostic Knight until he confessed it at the onset of entering the city.

Finally, there was the matter of the dark magic infecting Bram’s female friend. Matthias had never heard of a curse that resisted red and blue manna. This rogue wizard, Virgil Garvey, apparently had a power unique on Gaia. Matthias found it worrying, and he wondered what else Bram knew that he hadn’t admitted.

Nevertheless, Angela was his priority. He just needed to know she was safe. His fatherly instincts always assumed the worst, and he was terrified to think she might be hurt or afraid. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, and assure her that everything would be alright. To think a traveling musician had the resources to take her all the way to Rungholt, at the worst possible moment! Somehow, that lying street rat had ties to the Kitezhian royal family. There was no other explanation for how Angela ended up in king Henrich’s company. It was yet another mystery he was eager to solve.

He figured it was time to break the silence. He knew from his pendant that the other half was close by, traveling at a constant pace. He confronted the scrawny Kitezhian man.

“Yur name’s Konrad, is it? Might Ah have a word?”

The man turned his head and gave the scholar his full attention.

Matthias continued. “Ah own a device. It looks like a chain wit’ an opal pendant, and it detects my daughter’s location. Ah‘ve felt her close for a while now, so Ah presume ya have th’ other half. Could Ah ‘ave it back?”

Konrad bowed his head and removed something from his breast pocket. “My apologies, Master Deleuze. We knew you would be coming for her, so we decided to lead you here.”

He handed Matthias the pendant. The old scholar grasped it lovingly, his heart aching to see her. “How much longer will it take t’ reach her?”

Konrad answered after a moment’s hesitation. “Not long. First, our king has requested to see you.”

Something about Konrad’s tone poked at Matthias’s anxiety. The man evaded his question, held back details, and now created a new hurdle. It was a bad omen anytime a king demanded an audience over reuniting a father with his daughter. He prayed that Angela wasn’t harmed in any way, but he had little choice but to follow and see where Konrad led him.

As he walked, the passages changed in appearance. They became brighter and cleaner. Torchieres replaced luminess, casting a more natural light. Banners and paintings covered the walls, and furniture appeared in the corners. It started to look more like a royal quarters, which meant that they were close. Konrad stopped the march in front of a heavy wooden door.

“Please, wait,” he requested, entering first.

He closed the door behind him, leaving Matthias and Bram with the other Kitezhians, whose shifty eyes were all the more unnerving. After an awkward and uncomfortable wait, Konrad emerged and beckoned them inside.

It was an empty room, except for a long table with chairs. At the far end of the table sat a boy in regal vestments. Matthias recognized him instantly, and he was not King Henrich.

“What in the Burnin’ Pits is this?” the old scholar demanded. “Some kind o’ joke?”

His blood simmered, and it was difficult to maintain composure. Instead of Henrich, the Kitezhians presented him with the little music-boy who had eloped with Angela. And they dressed him in royal robes, like some kind of prank. It was tasteless and rude! His temperature kept rising.

The boy held out his hands in a pacifying manner. “Please, be at ease, Master Deleuze. My name is Józef.”

“I don’t care who ya are!” Matthias bellowed. The nearby soldiers placed their hands on their sword hilts, nervously. The boy signaled, and they took a step back. But their hands never left the hilts. Matthias wasn’t impressed. “Ya took Angela from her home! From a father who loves her! Where is she? Ah demand you take me to her!”

Matthias found himself staring straight down at the boy. In the last few moments, he must have crossed the room, but it was all a blur. He could barely hear past the blood beating between his ears. He wanted to wrap his hands around the boy’s throat and squeeze.

Józef rose from his chair and took a step back. Though obviously nervous, he stood firm, eyes shifting, as if checking to see if his retainers could reach him in time.

“Please, I’ll explain.” His voice was just barely steady. “I … I am son to Henrich Brandt, which makes me king of—”

“What’re ya blatherin’ about?” Even if true, Matthias didn’t want to negotiate with a boy. “If you’re Henrich’s son, then Ah demand to speak wit’ yar father. Now!”

Józef’s lower lip quivered, and he broke away from the scholar’s gaze. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “My father … is dead. He perished during Angkor’s attack.”

Matthias pressed his lips together tightly, trying to hold back his rage long enough to process the new information. “So, that explains it. Yar not a performer impersonatin’ a prince. You’re a prince who impersonated a performer. Even so, bein’ heir doesn’t give ya permission to take what ya want!”

Józef faced him like a wounded dog. “But … Angela came willingly!”

Matthias scowled, his face hard enough to turn a basilisk to stone. “You’re goin’ to stand there and tell me some horshit about fallin’ in love?”

Józef’s face was pinched in a sorrowful grimace. “It’s not a lie. We do love each other!”

“Bullocks!” Matthias shook his head. “You’re too young to know about love! Ah’ve been Angela’s father for fifteen years. Ah raised her myself since she was a newborn, and Ah cared for her every need. Ah watched her grow, Ah was there for her first words, her first smile, her first tears! Ah was there the first time her heart was broken, the first time she danced the ballet, and the first time she won an equestrian competition! Where in the Burnin’ Pits were you?”

Józef lowered his eyes. Matthias knew, sure as rain, their love was a farce. And it was time for him to set the record straight!

“Ah know what yar thinkin’, Boy.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, intent on driving the point home. “You think love is a poem. Oh, sure, sounds lovely … small, concise, the stuff that makes a man feel good. Know what I’m sayin’? Problem is, it’s make-believe. You think knowin’ Angela a few weeks means she loved ya back? Ha! What li’l girl wouldn’t want to meet a prince an’ travel the world wit’ ‘im? Yar concept o’ love would ‘ave entire villages fallin’ for ya. It’s a sham! And Ah promise you this: if any harm has befallen her, I’ll hold you responsible!”

“Your Majesty!” Konrad interrupted from the other side of the room, cutting off Matthias’ rant. “Perhaps we should just take him to her.”

Józef looked like a broken gelding. He nodded weakly. Konrad went over to put his arm around the young heir, coddling him like a child. He intentionally positioned the boy to put some distance between him and Matthias. The magus let it go. He had made his point.

Konrad nodded to the other Kitezhians, who made a path to the door. He and Józef went first, furthering the distance between them. Matthias turned to see what Bram had to say, but the Gnostic’s face was blank. Either he didn’t care, or he disagreed with the scholar’s approach and didn’t want to show it.

Matthias scoffed and followed the posse of Kitezhian soldiers. He held his head high, certain that what he said was right! But as he marched, a horrible feeling formed in the pit of his gut. The Kitezhians moved silently, somberly, like a funeral procession.

After a few more turns through the Network’s winding passages, they came to another large room. Józef and his entourage entered first before allowing Matthias and Bram to follow. No one said a word, leaving Matthias to piece things together himself.

He had expected some kind of personal bedchamber, but it looked more like an infirmary. His heart sank when he saw men and women in white gowns moving from one bedside to the next, attending to injured patients. The room went silent, except for his own breath and heartbeat, as his eyes darted from one bedside to the next. At last, he found her.

His last breath came out in a whimper. The only word that escaped his lips was an old phrase he used to call her when she was a child. “Baby-girl ….”

He nearly tripped over his own robes. Angela lay at the far end of the room, surrounded by sorcerers and sorceresses. His heart broke, his knees bent, and he sank to the floor. He wiped away tears that oozed from his eyes, while his other trembling hand reached out to gently caress her hair and cheeks. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, like a healthy lass asleep in bed. But he had to know what other injuries lurked inside. He spoke the necessary words of magic.

His heart clenched as he assessed the damage. “Ya used magic to cover up the burns an’ lesions, but ya left the trauma inside!” He was broken. “There are … hemorrhages … everywhere!”

Józef face was also streaked with tears. He was shaking. “W-w-we were in castle when Angkor attacked.” He choked on the words. “I-I-I did … everything I could … our best scholars … they were lost during attack. We worked nonstop, but her wounds ….”

Matthias shook with rage. “You fool.”

Józef accepted the insult in silence, but it only made Matthias more furious.

“Idiot! She wouldn’t be here, if not for you!”

“It’s not my fault!” Józef squeaked, taking two steps back. His soldiers looked greatly concerned, and a few of them drew their weapons.

Matthias felt fury. A shroud of red obscured his vision. “You think yar puny weapons can hurt me?!”

He waved his arm and spoke words of magic. The soldiers dropped their weapons, just as they had done in the Altestadt. Hot metal smoked on the floor. Konrad drew a knife with an insulated hilt, but Matthias’ body lit up in a deep blue aura. He unleashed his power, sending Konrad flying backwards, sliding across the floor.

“Matthias, stop!” Bram called out. “These people didn’t do this to your daughter.”

“Silence!” the magus roared. “You’d stand against me now, Gnostic?”

Matthias felt betrayed. He was consumed with the heat of his own rage, and he unleashed it against those who dared to turn against him. His magic threw the warrior backward, slamming him against the wall. He hit the stone with a reverberating thud, and his body went limp.

“Ah don’t need ya anymore! Ah’m leavin’, and Ah’m takin’ Angela wit’ me. But first … Ah’m gonna teach this whelp a lesson.”

Matthias pushed the Kitezhians aside with an invisible force, leaving Józef to cower on the far side of the room. His eyes darted toward the exit, but Matthias wasn’t finished. He flexed his magical muscles, and the doors slammed shut. He left it barricaded, lest others attempt a rescue. Józef’s eyes filled with fear, and he inched backwards along the back wall. Matthias advanced with gleeful vengeance.

With his hand cupped, he extended his arm. He made no physical contact, but Józef grasped at his neck, nevertheless. An invisible force squeezed and lifted the heir of Kitezh off the ground. He clenched his larynx, and Matthias watched with delight as the boy’s face drained of color. His convulsive sounds were music to his ears.

“Father, stop. Don’t hurt ‘im.”

Angela’s voice broke through the wall of rage, quickly snuffing the heat and hellfire burning inside. She reached out, almost too weak to turn. Matthias released his grip, and Józef fell to the floor, gasping for air.

The magus was at her bedside in an instant and gave her his full attention. “Darlin’, sit back and don’t move. You’ll hurt all the hard work these kind folks ‘ave done for ya.”

She forced a smile. “Ah chose to run away, Father. Józef couldn’t ‘ave known about th’ attack, an’ he did everything he could to save me.”

Matthias took her hands, feeling their warmth. His anger was a thousand leagues away. He felt only sadness and longing, wishing he could turn back the hands of time.

“But, why?” He needed to know. “Why leave a lovin’ home? Ah’ve done nothin’ but love ya since the day ya were borne.”

She looked heartbroken. A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Aye, an’ Ah love ya deeply for it. But, livin’ in a small village wasn’t enuff for me. Ah needed more.”

Matthias sobbed as he kissed her forehead. “Silly girl … you should ’a talked to me. Ah would ’a listened.”

She smiled weakly. “Had ya listened, Father, ya would ’a heard my wanderlust years ago. It sang out so clearly, the Goddess herself sent a prince to rescue me.”

Matthias laughed between tears. “Gods, yur poetry! The two o’ ya are perfect for each other—”

She coughed, and blood leaked from her mouth.

Matthias’ heart sank. “No!” He fell to his knees and began working his magic. “Th’ old clots are tearin’ … they’re leakin’ all over.” He spun his hands faster, siphoning manna from his veins. He called to the other sorcerers.

“Ah need help ova here!”

The sorcerers rushed over, but they were amateurs. They had no idea how to close wounds on the inside. He had to do the work for them. But there was so much bleeding. He strained, tears streaming from his eyes. As soon as he sealed one wound, two others formed.

“Father … my time’s short ….”

“Hush, Baby-Girl,” he commanded, his voice cracking. “Ah can heal ya, but ya mustn’t move.”

She gurgled, and more blood leaked from her mouth. “Ah need ya … to promise … please.”

Matthias shook his head. He was losing concentration at the worst possible moment, and his manna was running low. If required, he would pull the very lifeforce from his own body to keep on healing. He would crack open the world to gain the power he needed. He just … needed to concentrate.

But as Angela spoke, his mind turned to mush. She seemed to put forth all her strength. “Promise, father … help him … protect … the sunstones.”

Matthias thought he misheard. His powers slipped away. “What? Angela—”

“Please, father … he’ll be a good king. Promise ….”

Matthias lowered his head against her chest. His manna was all dried up. “I promise,” he sobbed.

“I … Mamma ….”

Her eye’s stared forward, blankly, and her body went limp.

“Angela? No … no, no, no … Gaia, please! Ya took my wife, don’t take my child, too!”

Manna or not, he filled his body with magic. It shined brightly, creating an aura that turned the whole room blue. Though his vision was blurred with tears, he worked his art like never before. He gathered decades of experience and directed it into his daughter’s body. The aura grew, and dancing blue flames surrounded his body. The rest of the room shielded their eyes.

He poured his very soul into his magic, sealing up wounds, desperately repairing the damage to her organs, trying to stop the blood that leaked throughout her body. He was certain … nothing would stand in his way. Not even Death, itself! He stared into her lifeless eyes. As long as the magic kept flowing, he wouldn’t give up! More power flowed through his veins in that moment than most scholars saw in a lifetime. But, sadly, it wasn’t enough.