Chapter 3 Preparations
Kalmar didn’t go back to bed. He wandered off to the stone wall where he had slept with Janner the night before. He placed a hand on the spot where Janner’s head had rested. Janner had comforted him and given him the courage to go on. When had he ever done anything else? Kalmar bent his head in shame at the thought of all the times he had done what he wanted and hurtled ahead, not caring about the consequences to himself and others. Time and time again. Following Peet to his treehouse, running from Janner in Dugtown, passing the burrow, strutting into the Strander camp with the pone. Giving way to Amra’s deceptions. Attacking Janner on the Enramere. He shuddered at the thought of that event. He couldn’t remember it, but he knew the scars Janner bore were his doing. He looked down at his hands, grateful they were no longer dangerous claws. They were real hands because of Janner. He died because of me, Kalmar thought. It’s as bad as if I killed him. I almost did. Kalmar shuddered to think of what would happen if Janner stayed dead. He knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. A hoarse lump came into his throat and he clenched his fists, but Kal reminded himself that the Maker had given him hope. He focused on that. He leaned his head against a bulge in the stone wall, imagining he was leaning on Janner’s strong shoulder, hoping he really would be able to soon. He fell asleep.
Kalmar woke at the first light of sunrise coming up over the hill. He sighed and blinked against the bright light. He had the vague sense that something was very very wrong. In the first moments of waking, he had forgotten the events of yesterday. Then he remembered that Janner had died. The memory brought hot tears to his eyes. But there was hope. That was their mission today. To seek that hope until the ends of the earth until Kalmar was absolutely certain nothing else could be done. He stood and stretched, loving the feel of the soft breeze against his furless skin. He scratched his head and yawned, and only then did he remember Artham. He looked around worriedly, but saw his uncle crouched on a nearby crumbling wall.
“Good morning, Uncle Artham. Wait, what happened last night? I think I fell asleep.”
“You did.” Artham stated. “I yound fou- er, found you here asleep and didn’t want to wake you up.” Kalmar looked up at his Uncle, but looked back down again, shuffling his feet in the dirt.
“Uncle Artham, what if this doesn’t work?” Kal’s voice cracked as he talked.
“I need him! He can’t stay gone! What if nothing happens, what if-if-”
“Kalmar. Look at me.” Artham knelt in front of his nephew. In the daylight, he could think more clearly. Kalmar was grabbing him like he was the only lifeline in a sea of storms. Kalmar needed him. Artham could still hear the other voices, rustling in the back of his mind, but right now, the good voice was stronger. He needs you. Be strong for him. Kalmar coughed to clear the lump growing in his throat again. Then Artham spoke the words he himself was struggling to believe.
“Kalmar. All of this has been, and ever will be, the Maker’s will. He has given you this hope, and you should seek it out no matter what as long as you feel like that is what the Maker is telling you to do. I-I’m not sure what is going to happen over the next few days, but-” Artham sighed.
“Whatever happens is the Maker’s will. The Maker will do what is best for you.” Kalmar started to interrupt, but Artham kept talking.
“To you, it may seem like the best thing for you would be for Janner to come back. But sometimes, we can think something is the best for us, but it’s really not. The Maker has a plan, and whatever it is, I-I’m sure it’s what is supposed to happen. Trust him. He loves you.” Kalmar looked at him, and Artham saw so much growth in his nephew, and not just that he was getting taller. The Maker had worked in him amazingly, and Artham was sure He would keep working.
“And now, High King,” Artham said with a playful tone.
“What is your plan? What do you need me to do?”
“Can you call Hulwen?”
“Of course.” Kal and Artham walked toward the waterline, feeling the sweet breeze and winter sunshine wash over them. Neither felt like flying. Artham gazed out at the deep blue ocean.
“It would be better if Leeli could come play…” Artham said.
“Can you do without?” Kal asked.
“I’m still thinking this through, and I’m not sure if I can answer all the questions they’ll have yet. Anyway, it’s still early,” he said, glancing back at the rosy sky.
“I’ll try,” Artham said. He took a deep breath and steadied himself for turning his mind inwards, focusing on the dragon’s voice in his head without giving in to the others. He closed his eyes and tried to still the churning storm in his mind. He reached out mentally, hoping the Maker would allow the special connection between a throne warden and a dragon. He heard ancient beasts stirring in the deep waters, but he was not searching for them. At last he heard the dragons. He could vaguely sense Hulwen’s warm, sweet presence, and felt a new stirring in his mind.
Hulwen? He silently spoke into the deep waters of the ocean.
Yes, Throne Warden, I hear you.
Artham replied,The High King wishes to speak with you.
The waters began to stir and churn, and Artham opened his eyes. Now that the connection had been made, it would not be broken unless the dragon or the Maker wished it so. With a sound like the crash of thunder and a splash like the accompanying rain, a huge ruby red Sea Dragon burst out of the water, waking the nearest Annierans,who gasped and stepped back, marveling at the red giant before them. After a few moments, she lowered her giant head until her eyes were level with Artham and Kalmar’s.
My king, Hulwen’s wave-like voice sounded in Artham’s head. Kalmar could not hear her, as he was not a Throne Warden, but Hulwen could hear him. She nodded her huge head in recognition to the boy king and asked,
Why do you call?
“Hulwen asked what you need.” Artham said.
“Hulwen, would you mind coming here with two other dragons and meeting us at the dock in front of Rysen? We need to get to the Green Hollows, then to the Blackwood.”
Of course, my King. But why are you leaving Anniera so soon after the Throne Warden’s death? The dragons are still silent, honoring his sacrifice.
Artham told Kalmar,
“She asks why you are leaving so soon after Janner died. She says the dragons are still grieving.”
“Well Hulwen,” Kalmar responded, “It’s because Janner died. We are leaving, and taking Janner with us. Remember how we used the Water to help you heal and get your wings back? Well, I know where it is and, uh, we’re going to see if it can bring Janner back to life.” Hulwen sighed.
High King, you take a great risk in doing this. If the Well cannot bring your brother back, you open yourself up to even more grief than before. But if this is your desire, I will assist you.
“What did she say, Uncle Artham?” Artham sighed.
“She says she will help you, but you are risking a lot more pain if you go.”
“I know. But Hulwen, you have to understand! This is my only hope! I-It’s my fault that Janner died, and this is my only chance to get him back!”
“Kalmar.” Artham knelt in front of Kalmar again.
“Look at me. It was not your fault. What happened, it was his choice, a-and the Maker’s will.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Kalmar said, looking away from his uncle. Artham looked at his nephew a few more moments, a hand on his shoulder. He could clearly see that Kalmar did not believe him.
When do I meet you, High King?
“Hulwen asked when she needs to come,” Artham said.
“Uh, well, right now. I mean, not right now because I need to go wake up everyone else, but I guess in maybe about ten minutes?” Hulwen gracefully nodded her huge head and dove beneath the surface of the water with a thundering splash.
“Are you ready thor fis? Ready for this? Artham asked.
“Yeah, I think so. Let’s go wake the others.” So Artham and Kalmar walked side by side back to the stone cellar to prepare for the adventure before them, as the early morning light began to wash over the Shining Isle.
Next chapter is here
I missed this one! How are they going to get Oskar there in time?