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“Ben!” I shouted as my poor thumper in my chest now skipped a beat.
“Beside you,” came the smooth but tense reply.
I whipped my head to my left and the wall that stood there and I scrambled close to it. “What in the hell is going on? Where are we?”
A deep sigh escaped my compatriot. “I believe we’re in the dungeons of the kingdom of Kalea. Mind you, I haven’t actually seen them myself, but the dry air and yellowed walls do point toward that being our location.”
I blinked at the wall. “Kalea? But why were we taken here?” A heavy clank of a metal door caught my attention.
“We may very well be finding out,” Ben mused as I heard his feet scuff against the floor.
Four male soldiers came into view, or so I assumed that’s what they were. They wore tight-fitting shirts and pants over their muscled frames, and on top of those were metal armor plates that perfectly sculpted to their forms. The light and broad-footed boots hardly made a noise on the floor, and each of them carried a heavy staff nearly as tall as them and with trident-like metal tips on the top that featured hideous barbs jutting out at all angles.
A fifth person scuttled over and unlocked my cell door before he stepped back. One of the guards slipped into the cell and caught my attention before he nodded at his compatriots. “You will come with us.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and stepped off the bed. The guard grabbed my left arm and wrenched me forward into the arms of his cohorts.
It was then I realized my ribbon was no longer on my arm. Panic overtook me as I whipped my head around to examine the cell, but there was no sign of it in there.
We stood in a long corridor lined with about two dozen cells. A door in the center was the only escape. Two of the soldiers moved over to the adjoining cell where Ben waited at the front. The lowly cell manager opened his gate and he stepped out before the soldiers could offer their ‘help.’
Ben’s eyes immediately fell on me. “Are you alright?”
I nodded. “I think-”
“No talking!” the lead soldier snapped as he pushed his spear against my back. “And march!”
I stumbled forward and Ben made to catch me, but one of the other soldiers performed the task. The other two soldiers grabbed Ben’s arms and held him back as he shot a deadly look at my assailant. His voice was low and dangerous, and there was a glint of red in those dark eyes. “Don’t touch her again like that.”
The soldier’s bravado wavered under Ben’s warning, but only for a moment before he recovered himself and nodded at the doorway. “Through there!”
Ben’s warning, however, had the effect that the head soldier avoided touching me, especially as he slipped past me in the hall and took the lead. The doorway led to a winding staircase, and as we climbed the air became less stifling. The top of the stairs led to a wider hall where the walls were made of huge stone blocks cut and smoothed to fit perfectly together. Not even an ant could have fit between those boulders.
We were marched down the hall to another corridor where the decor became more opulent. Tapestries covered the plain walls and nooks featured human busts and animal statues. Servants in simple but clean white attire stepped aside from their duties to allow us to pass. We eventually found ourselves in a large entrance hall with a wide set of stone steps covered in red carpeting. The stairs led up to a pair of doors flanked by more guards. They opened the doors and revealed a long, wide throne room where more soldiers stood in front of the columns that held up the high ceiling. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows on either side and revealed a large city that sat in an expansive plain. The only high spot appeared to be the palace in which we found ourselves.
A throne of gold stood at the end of the long walk across the room, and a tall man in elegant white and red robes was seated on its plush seat. The man appeared to be about forty with a short stiff beard and dark mustache. His brownish hair, however, was draped over his shoulders. He wore a wreath of gold leaves decked with jewels atop his brow and his fingers were likewise covered in gilded rings.
The man was shorter than Ben, but his bearing bespoke an ancient lineage that knew their lofty place in the world and wouldn’t let anyone else forget it, either.
My heart skipped a beat when I noticed a small end table beside the throne. The Prima Staff in its flute form lay on the top with its canister beside it. My untied ribbon was draped over both of them.
Our escort stopped us ten feet short of the platform on which sat the throne. The four men bowed to the royal and stepped to the side of us in pairs.
Ben stretched himself to his full height, a scale which exceeded the average height around us. “Your hospitality is legendary, King Ramaal, but I had no idea you invited guests to your palace at the tip of a spear.”
The king stirred from his reverie and lifted his chin slightly. “My sincerest apologies, but the desperate hour calls for desperate action.”
Ben lifted an eyebrow. “What desperate hour?”
“My kingdom is in need of your unique gift of magic,” Ramaal explained as I noticed he grasped the front of the arms of his chair. “The magic which protects my island is dissipating, and new sources must be found and siphoned.”
“So why are you telling us this instead of just taking it?” I asked him.
His Highness turned his nose up at me. “We are not heathens. I would ask a boon from you, merely a touch of your gift.”
“And if we refuse?” Ben spoke up.
A spark of dark light flickered through the king’s eyes. “I hope that you will not, but should you choose that path then the magic will be taken from you.”
