Chapter
2
The Tournament
Protruding from the lip of a looming cave is a large water basin. As the chosen three crowd around the liquid they need, the smell of their journey fills their noses. While drinking several handfuls of the fresh quenching water, an unemotional voice booms from above.
“There will be three rooms. In each, you will discover a task you are required to complete. Enter the cave now.” One mystic instructs them. The Mystics construct the challenges and are the only observers. They also make the final judgment.
Brandon steps inside the gaping mouth of the cave. After a few feet, it opens into a chamber with a petite opening on the further side. An iron gate blocks it. The stone walls give off a turquoise glow, which lights the entire room. Up several steps, on a platform, are three wooden tables. Brandon sees on one table is a puzzle. It has fifteen puzzle pieces of assorted sizes, shapes, and colors.
William and Steven step up to the two empty tables. William reaches out and acts as if he is moving things around. The mystics enchanted the puzzles so the contestants cannot glance at each other’s progress.
As Brandon turns to his table, Steven catches his attention. The Highlander seems nervous and keeps glancing at the palm of his hand. Their eyes meet for fleeting seconds, but at that moment, Brandon sees doubt and…
Is that fear?
Steven clinches his fist shut, and his eyes get cold. Then he turns to his task.
Is he cheating? Brandon questions.
Brandon looks at his complicated puzzle and thinks, this is not my strong point.
He ties back his shoulder-length hair with a red ribbon his sister gave him this morning for fortune in the tournament. Brandon takes one deep breath and starts. He touches a blue piece, and it turns white. When Brandon takes his fingers away, it changes to blue again. He places two pieces together, and the entire puzzle shifts.
I guess that is not right. He thinks.
Brandon looks up when he sees a glow to his right. William’s table disappears. Brandon smiles as William walks out of the room. The Highlander did not win this one. To Brandon’s displeasure, a few brief minutes later, Steven’s table disappears.
Brandon frowns in frustration.
What is this?
He hits the table, his anger getting the best of him. The pieces shift. Two of the fragments touch and turn white, and the puzzle does not change. These two must go together. Brandon notices another piece which will fit with them. Then, he sees the solution. The sign for the Royal-lands, a quadlit.
As he puts the last of the pieces together, a voice, utterly devoid of feeling, fills his head, ‘Well done, Lowlander, you may go.’
Brandon walks up to the substantial iron gate; it melts away. Following the gateway is a long, narrow, shadowy tunnel. He can smell the dampness that is making the uneven floor slippery. He tries to hurry but falls and cuts his arm. After a few minutes, the sound of descending water echoes through the tunnel. Ultimately, he comes to a much larger room. The walls are red in color because of the water from the Red Sea steadily trickling down them. Floating at different heights are orbs of dazzling white light. On the other side, he sees a fifty-foot wall. Dribbling down the rock is more water.
Brandon runs to a brown pack sitting at the bottom of the wall. He hears the unfeeling voices inside his head again and puts on the parcel. The seventy-five-pound container does not slow him down. Accustomed to carrying one-hundred-pound sacks of grain and feed every day, Brandon does not find the sag a burden. As he starts up the wall, he finds his strong fingers can grip the small ledges with ease, but if he is not careful, his fingers will slip on the wet stone.
Brandon catches up with William in only a few brief minutes. As he passes him, Brandon notices sweat is pouring down the Midlander’s red face.
“They move.” The fear Brandon hears in William’s voice matches the fear he sees in his enormous eyes.
After proceeding a few more inches, the ledge Brandon reaches for moves six inches to the right. The one his right foot is on drops about four inches. He lets out a choked cry as he feels himself tumbling. Just when he thinks he is going to the bottom the hard way, his hand finds a ledge.
Where did that come from? Brandon questions as he looks at the large ledge.
Brandon never stops moving. He adjusts his course as the stone ledges shift. At the halfway point, Brandon sees Steven just ahead. As the Lowlander passes the Highlander, he cannot help smiling over at him.
“See you at the top,” Brandon says as he takes the lead.
He feels something touch the back of his lower leg. Before he can do anything, it grabs hard and pulls. He looks back to find Steven has a hard grip on his large calf. Forcefully, Steven pulls Brandon down a few inches. Brandon feels his fingers slipping on the wet rock. He is going to fall twenty-five feet to the cold, damp stone floor. What would his family do? Brandon hears someone holler out in pain and surprise, and then Steven’s hand is gone.
The water is making it impossible for Brandon to catch himself. He continues his deadly descent. When Brandon slides past Steven, he sees a rock hand has come out of the wall and is gripping his wrist. The Highlander claws at it, to no avail.
Brandon clutches at the wall, trying in desperation to stop his plummet, but he finds nothing which can help him now.
He is going to die, and his family will never make it without him.
His mind races feverishly.
Then a searing pain shoots through his back as he comes to an abrupt halt.
Brandon’s hands move carefully for fear of starting his descent again.
He has landed on a narrow ledge which was not there earlier. Pushing past the pain growing in his back, Brandon starts up the wall once again.
The Lowlander scrambles up the wall without caution. He must finish first. His fingers and feet slip several times, but Brandon finds other ledges effortlessly. In a remarkable time, he passes Steven, who is still struggling with a desperation beyond a normal worry of losing. In the seconds he takes to pass Steven, Brandon sees the palm of the Highlander’s hand. Burn scars cover it. After a few feet, Brandon glances back to find Steven is free from his captivity and only a foot below him, trying frantically to advance.
Bloody, bruised, and exhausted, Brandon reaches the top first. Even in his haste, Brandon takes one last look down. A few feet below him, he finds the Highlander’s furious eyes staring up at him. Waving goodbye, Brandon turns and drops his now useless pack.
When it hits the ground, the bag splits open, but nothing comes out. As tight as Brandon’s time is, he grabs the bag. He investigates the emptiness, but the weight is the same. Once again, he drops the sack. It lands on the edge of the rock wall next to Steven’s hand. Brandon turns and flees down the narrow, shadowy cave, which leads to the last task.
One chamber is all that remains for them to finish. Brandon cannot wait to see what the Mystics’ next challenge will be. He comes out of the dark tunnel and goes around a sharp corner. Suddenly, the floor under his right foot is gone, and he almost steps off the rocky ledge.
Brandon scrambles backward and looks around the enormous new room. To his right is a lavafall, which falls below ground level. Along the edge are small pools of lava. He glances upward but sees no ceiling. What dim light exists comes from a few torches along the walls. A faint glow comes from an uneven crack which travels from one side of the cavern to the other. He looks down inside the crevice and sees a hundred feet below is a narrow lake of lava.
What is that?
Something is moving through the dancing flames on the molten rock.
A sleek creature the size of two small Lowlander homes steps up onto a steaming, hot rock. The Fire Dragon’s smooth scaly skin is reddish-orange. The dragon shakes itself like a dog drying off. Flaming lava sprays all around it. The lava droplets land several feet away, splashing against the walls of the crevice. Some of the fire droplets soar well over Brandon’s head.
The dragon rises on its hind legs and appears to be gazing at something. Its forked tongue flicks as it tastes the air. Spiraling black horns shoot out of the top of its head. When the dragon snaps its tail in agitation, a thunderous crack fills the cavern. Their long tails grow thin toward the end and split. They can use them like whips. It dives back into the flames, swimming through the lava as if in a cool mountain pool.
Brandon watches the wondrous sight just for a moment longer. The amazement at being in the presence of a live Fire Dragon is overwhelming. Everlyn has told him stories about how they eat molten rock so they can shoot lava bombs.
Incredible, he thinks and then looks around him.
Crossing over the flaming lava are two old, rickety wooden bridges. The bridge in front of him has no handrails. Because of its location, a narrow spot in the crevice, this bridge is shorter than the other. This bridge would be quicker, but increasingly more dangerous. The other is wider with handrails. It sits at an angle, which makes it significantly longer, but it would be safer. He could also move faster. Brandon knows he only has a slight lead, so heads down the shorter bridge.
After Brandon’s first few steps, he thinks this will be easy. The Fire Dragon picks comes out of the fiery lake again. It shakes itself, and fire droplets rise above Brandon’s head once more. When they come down, they land on him and the bridge. The ones landing on the overpass cool instantly, but the ones hitting Brandon are a different story. They burn into his flesh, clothes, and hair. He brushes the hot embers off as quickly as he can while continuing to cross the swaying bridge.
Brandon only takes a few steps more when he hears someone skidding to a stop. He glances back and sees Steven heading for the longer bridge at a dead run. Brandon blocks out the danger on each side of him and drives himself to run faster.
Out of nowhere, a scream rips through the cavern. Brandon looks around and sees, well behind him, a petite female sitting in a basket a few feet above the flames dancing on the lava. The basket is hanging from the long bridge by a slender rope. The girl has light brunette hair and pale skin. Being a Midlander she does not have the strength to help herself. Brandon looks up at the others. Terrified, William is moving with the slowness of a tragon on land. The Midlander’s feet have only shuffled a few yards from the start of the bridge.
Steven is well past her. Brandon watches as the Highlander looks at his scarred palms. Steven fleetingly glances up at Brandon. He seems to make a quick decision, turns, and continues to the finish line.
Brandon knows he will lose the race and the new life, he so desires for his family; he turns searching for the fastest way to the girl. He sees a rope coming from the unseen ceiling not too far from where William is standing.
“William, do you see her?” Brandon points to the young girl. William only jerkily shakes his head yes.
“See the rope beside you? I need it. Can you throw it at me?” William’s eyes widen, and he turns paler than he already is. “Please, William. She will die if I do not get to her quickly.”
William closes his eyes, and Brandon fears he will not do it. He looks around, trying to find a different way. To his surprise, William forces his paralyzed eyes to open, and with shaky hands, he takes a hold of the thick rope. A metal hook hangs on the end of the cord, which helps it swing in a smooth arch to Brandon.
Before William can take more than a few shaky steps, Brandon lands in front of him. The Midlander grabs the bridge in a death grip as it sways upon the Lowlanders impact. Knowing he is going to need the rope but with no genuine hope, he gives it a hard yank. To his astonishment, it falls out of the darkness.
Painful lava drops shower down on him and William. The Fire Dragon’s flaming spray hits the basket below, and a few small flames begin eating it. The girl lets out another blood-curdling scream.
“Someone, please help me!” she pleads through her tears.
Brandon makes himself run quicker. When he is above her, he drops to his knees.
“I am coming!” Brandon yells down at her. She lifts her tear-stained face and sees she is a lot younger than he first thought. She seems to be his sister’s age, around ten. He feels anger rise within him. What sort of beings put a child in danger for a tournament, Brandon thinks in disgust?
He fastens the metal hook to the underside of the bridge and lowers himself down to her. Before he is halfway down, his hands burn from the stiff fibers of the rope. When he is even with the girl, she scrambles from the basket, wrapping her arms and legs around him. In her haste to get out of the burning basket, she hits Brandon’s stinging hands. He loses his grip, and they slide toward the end of the rope.
Behind him, the girl lets out another ear-shattering scream. Her hold around his neck tightens to where he can scarcely breathe. As Brandon forces his hands to grab the rope again, he feels his skin rip. Blood pours from his hands making it even harder to stop their descent. A few frightening inches from the end of the rope, they finally come to a halt.
After a moment’s rest, Brandon grits his teeth, knowing the pain to come, and starts up the rope. What little strength he has remaining begins vanishing within a few brief minutes.
His arms shake, and his hands throb, wanting to let go.
They are close to the top, but Brandon does not believe he can make it.
He looks at the distance they have to drop.
The fire below rages on and seems desperate to reach them.
Then, the rope catches fire.
It crackles and pops as the fire rushes, consuming it.
“Need some help?” a nervous voice asks from above.
Brandon looks upward, and shock hits him to see the pale face of William looking down at him.
The Midlander extends his hand down. With salvation only inches away, the girl reaches for it. Without the girl’s weight, Brandon tries once again to grasp the edge of the bridge but cannot. He looks down. The fire is almost to him. He tries one last time to pull himself up when he feels a set of hands wrap around his arms. With help from William, he gets up safely. William picks up the small child, and they run to the finish line.
When the group of three come around the remaining corner, they discover a tiny chamber. In the center, standing beside a raging fire pit, is Steven. As Brandon and the others arrive at the fire, a cool breeze fills the cave as all three cloaked mystics appear. Their long, black hooded robes flap in the breeze as they hover a few inches above the floor. A symbol created with golden thread sits in the center of the cloaks. The image starts out as a circle. Shooting upward from the bottom is a trio of staves. The heads of the rods are almond-shaped. In the center of these almonds, golden jewels are set, shaped in the identical way. Golden beams are coming from them, and golden swirls fill the rest of the space.
Brandon takes a step towards them.
“How could you endanger a child!?” he yells with his fists clenched at his sides.
“There was no child in danger,” they answer together. They show no hint of emotion.
Brandon turns to point at the girl, but she is gone. With his anger still flickering, he takes a step back. He looks at them and wonders, not for the first time, what kind of heartless creatures hide beneath those robes?
“We need someone who is clever, strong, and courageous, but most of all honorable,” their voices join as one. “Only one has shown all four qualities. For the first season in two centuries, a Lowlander will stand as the Queen’s Protector.”
Brandon glances at Steven. His face darkens with anger. One mystic pulls a wooden box out of midair.
“Brandon, come and place a finger here.”
Brandon hesitates and then puts his finger at the center of a lovely heart carved into the box. Pain shoots through his finger as he feels something sharp pushed into it. Suddenly, every muscle in his body clinches. He cannot breathe. Brandon tries to fight, but none of his muscles will respond. He feels everything slipping away. Then, nothing.
Brandon breathes in sharply and takes in foul-tasting air. The light beating down on him is blinding. Slowly, he can see a strange sky above him. Blue blankets it. All around him are tree-covered mountains. In front of him is what must be a petite wooden palace. The size of it means it could be nothing else. On Grandel Isle, the only building with more than one floor is the palace. The lumber is a dark shade of red, too dark to be natural wood. Lowlander homes are the only ones made of trees.
What have they done to it?
Small trees with delicate white blooms on them line the front of the palace. Brandon takes a slow step toward them but cannot smell their fragrance. So, he takes another step. His foot catches on what looks like a green snake, but it does not move. Brandon falls forward, landing on his hands and knees. The grass is a darker green on Earth, and stiffer than the grasslands at home. The grass on Grandel is a bright green and pliable.
Getting up, Brandon feels an urge to go into the palace. Hesitantly, he opens the door and steps inside. These walls differ from the ones outside. They are smooth and bursting with color. As Brandon stares at the odd things around him, a sweet smell overtakes his senses. It comes from behind him. He turns and looks down. The new queen only comes to his chest.
‘Jacklyn,’ he hears inside his head.
She looks at him with her small blue eyes, a look of surprise dances across her delicate face.
Brandon wants to speak to her but finds he cannot. She raises her petite hand as if to touch him but pulls back. When she does, the strap to the yellow sundress she has on falls from her shoulder. Just as he reaches out to put it back, her cascading auburn hair falls on his hand. Brandon has never felt hair this silky.
When his hand contacts her creamy skin, he finds neither of them can move. Slowly, a light spreads over them both.
He can feel both of their hearts beating, flying together.
He can hear their breath becoming one.
All he can see is her.
He knows from this point on his life belongs to her, no matter what she will do with it.
Then he feels something tearing him backward. He does not want to leave Jacklyn. The thought of separation makes it hard for Brandon to breathe. Before he can do anything to stop it, he feels ripped from her.
Once again, Brandon is in the cave. He falls to the floor. He feels so empty, as if he left a part of himself with her.
The mystic’s voice fills his head once again. ‘You are now bound to her.’
Brandon struggles to rise to his feet but is unable. He looks up at the Mystics, but they are paying no attention to him. Their focus is behind him. He glances back and finds Steven and William both rising to their feet.
