The Ankulen Page 8

  “If she chose to favor one knight over another, that was her prerogative, wasn't it?” I pointed out. Sir Erran had been the first person I had met who indicated that he questioned my ways.

  “True,” Sir Erran admitted. “But, still, Sir Christofer would have been nothing had she not always been behind him.”

  “But she was behind him, what of that?” I argued. “She couldn't choose every knight to be her personal protector, she didn't even need one. If she decided to have one special knight who always traveled with her, she could decide who it was.”

  “True enough,” said Sir Erran, with a touch of impatience. “But, tell me, why are you alone and without escort? It is not the habit of Fair Maidens to thus expose themselves.”

  “And truly I would love to squirrel myself away somewhere safe and cozy,” I replied, folding my arms over my chest. I still thought the man handsome, but he needed to learn some respect for the person who had made him up. “However, I'm on an important mission, and I'm the only person who can do it.”

  “Surely you can entrust it to a valiant knight who is better suited to the dangers.”

  “When I said that I was the only person, I meant that I was the only person,” I pointed out. “And I'm not as ill-suited as you might think.”

  “It is still a blight to the honor of every knight that you are without protection,” Sir Erran declared, striking a heroic pose that only earned him an eye-roll from me. “No, I cannot allow you to continue alone. If you insist on endangering yourself, then I must insist on accompanying you so that you are not without protection.”

  “I would much prefer continuing on my own,” I countered.

  “But I insist!”

  I gave a defeated sigh. “Fine, if you insist.”

  “Very good, very good,” he declared, and I soon found myself seated behind him on his horse hanging on for dear life as we galloped away.

  “Now where did you say were headed again,” Sir Erran asked.

  “In that direction,” I replied, prying one arm from around his waist just long enough to point in the direction the Ankulen was pulling me.

  “Yes, but where are you going?”

  “I'm not sure, really,” I admitted. “All I know is that if I go far enough in that direction, I'll eventually find what I seek.”

  “And what do you seek?”

  “If you want to figure it out, I won't prevent you,” I replied, icily. Since he hadn't figured out who I was, I wasn't about to enlighten him, especially since he had all but insulted me.

  We rode in silence for a ways. Eventually he asked me if I would like to listen to his story to pass the time. Since I had nothing better to do (other than hang on for dear life) and I realized that it would be a good way to keep him from prying into my back story, I told him he could.

  Apparently, I had made Sir Erran up to be competition for Sir Christofer. He made the audacious claim, in Chris's presence, that he was the finest knight in the land. Since Chris was the accepted finest knight, this claim could not go unchallenged.

  The challenge I set up to answer the argument was a simple one. Whoever could find and bring back something called the Sun Jewel would be the rightful possessor of the title. Each competitor was allowed two companions, and animals counted as companions. Sir Erran had chosen his horse and falcon, and sir Christofer had naturally selected Fair Maiden Letitia and Lady Jenifer.

  Selecting Lady Jenifer, in Sir Erran's opinion, was cheating. Since I had made the contest and all the rules, I could lead Chris in the exact direction the Sun Jewel was located, and even changed the rules if I wanted to – and none would be the wiser.

  “But that wouldn't have been as much fun for Lady Jenifer,” I pointed out. “Surely she came up with the contest for her own enjoyment, so that she could participate.”

  Sir Erran didn't really have a good argument against that, so he chose to ignore me and continue his story. Needless to say, despite all the trials he faced and the courage he displayed, Sir Erran did not win the contest. Indeed, when all was said and done, he proved to have been going completely in the wrong direction, as impossible as that may sound considering the Rubik's cube nature of my world.

  Sir Erran had been unable to accept the fact that Chris was the finest knight due to his conviction that Chris had cheated. He proceeded to challenge Sir Christofer to a rematch six times after that.

  Unfortunately for him, Lady Jenifer had been deaf to his plea for fairness and would not prevent her favored knight from choosing her as a companion. Sir Erran was fighting a losing battle, and had at last ridden away as far as he could to find another way to prove that he was the true finest knight in the land.

  Because he was in such an out of the way place, it took a while before news of my abandonment reached him. When it did, he saw his chance.

  He sought out Sir Chris as quickly as he could, which took a while thanks to the distance he had put between him and his arch rival. Chris had been in a state of utter discouragement, and was willing enough to hand over the title – on one condition.

  If Sir Erran could find the Lady Jenifer and convince her to return, then he would be the finest knight in the land.

  “Since that day,” concluded Sir Erran, “I have ceaselessly sought the Lady Jenifer, pausing only to rescue Fair Maidens such as yourself.”

  “What if Sir Christofer finds and returns Lady Jenifer?” I asked, truly curious. After all, it had been Chris who had found me.

  “Then Sir Christofer will retain his position as the finest knight in the land,” Sir Erran replied in an annoyed tone. “Not that it is likely to happen. It is Sir Christofer's fault that she abandoned us. No, she is far too angry with him to return with him.”

  I tensed slightly at those words, and it took a great deal of effort to keep my voice calm and even as I made my reply. “But Sir Christofer was closer to her than anyone else in the land – save for the Fair Maiden Letitia. If anyone could find her, I would assume it would be him.”

  “You apparently do not know much of Lady Jenifer's character,” said Sir Erran, in a condescending tone that made me bristle. “Once she makes up her mind, there's little that anyone else can do to change it. Sir Christofer and Fair Maiden Letitia broke one of her beloved rules, and not even they can get away with that.”

  “I have heard rumor that Sir Christofer has, indeed, found a way to restore Lady Jenifer to us,” I said slowly, unwilling to reveal my identity, but still wanting to shake Sir Erran's haughty confidence. Who was he to judge my character? I had made him up!

  “People often start rumors that say what people want to hear,” Sir Erran pointed out. “There's not a single person in his right mind who doesn't want Lady Jenifer to return to us and heal the land. Don't listen to impossible rumors. Lady Jenifer is too angry at Sir Christofer to return with him. Besides, if she had returned, do you think things would look like this?” He gestured at the sky and landscape.

  “She may have a reason for not restoring them,” I pointed out. Such as the fact that I was short my memories …

  “I don't know what that reason might be,” commented Sir Erran, “unless it is continued spite against Sir Christofer and Fair Maiden Letitia, and she could do that just as well not here at all.”

  “What happened to your falcon?” I asked, deciding that I was sick of this subject.

  “The Polystoikhedron ate her,” said Sir Erran. “I lingered too long in Green Valley … I escaped, Feathers did not.”

  “Poor thing,” I muttered, debating whether or not I should add Feathers to my list of things I needed to fix. I had already added Sir Erran's attitude.

  We rode along a ways in complete silence, both of us too annoyed to say anything to the other. It wasn't until Sir Erran reigned in his horse and began dismounting that one of us spoke.

  “Why are we stopping?” asked I.

  Sir Erran turned to me with a confused look. “It grows late, Fair Maiden Jen. We must eat supper and rest for the night.”


  I blinked as I allowed Sir Erran to help me off of the horse. “Oh. Right. Eating. Sleeping … I forgot about those things. I haven't done either in a long time.”

  Sir Erran gave me a confused look. “You are a strange maiden, Fair Maiden Jen.”

  I shrugged. “Haven't had the time for either. I've been too busy pursuing my mission.”

  Sir Erran shook his head as he began building a fire in much the same way Chris always had. “Well, I'll make sure you get something good to eat and some peaceful sleep from now on,” he told me, grinning his winning smile. “What did you say your mission was?”

  “One that I don't want to answer questions about,” I replied. “I didn't ask for company, and I especially didn't ask for company that would question my every whim.”

  Sir Erran gave me a look that communicated his dislike for my secrecy, but said nothing as he pulled out a skillet and placed some meat on it. “Dragon Steak,” he explained when he noticed my questioning look.

  We ate the dragon steak in silence and I found it tasty enough; spicy, but not too spicy. After he had put away camp, we lay down.

  However, as soon as I heard him snoring, I stood up and continued my journey. “I'm sorry,” I muttered. “I didn't want company, and you were beginning to annoy me.”

  Chapter 11

  In Which I Encounter a Strange Castle

  TO my relief and satisfaction, I did not encounter either the dragons or Sir Erran as I continued my journey.

  On and on I went, the days and nights all the same to me, as I paid little heed to the scenery as I passed. All was gray and lifeless, whether it was a forest, mountains, water, or plains.

  I didn't have the heart to pay any more attention than was necessary to keep me from running into things. My world was too horrid, too accusing.

  I was ashamed to look, ashamed of the fact that every dead tree, every gray jewel, every dirty stream was my fault. I had abandoned my imagination, and my imagination had suffered.

  Because I wasn't watching where I was going, it took a while before I realized that there was springy grass under my feet and the trees I was avoiding were covered in healthy, glittering leaves.

  “The plants are alive,” I said in awe, bending down to pluck a blade of grass. “It's still gray, but at least…” I held it to my nose and breathed deeply of its fresh, almost sweet smell. “Living plants!” I shouted. “There are living plants here!”

  Running over to the nearest tree, I tore off a handful of leaves. “Living trees! With glitter leaves!” I laughed as I noticed that my hands and arms were now coated with glittery dust.

  On I went with renewed vigor, eagerly taking in the sight of everything I saw. Glassy pools of the clearest water I had ever tasted, delicate flowers, sparkling stones …

  Only the fact that everything was gray and there were angry clouds above remained to remind me of the place's ruin.

  But as I traveled, I noticed something else.

  “There are no animals and people …” I muttered in observation. “The plants are alive, but there are no animals.”

  I was the only moving thing there was to be seen.

  This realization settled in the pit of my stomach in an uncomfortable knot, causing me to subdue my pace. Here I was, in a place of near-perfection, and there were no animals or people here to enjoy it.

  “Why?” I shouted, trying to fill the silence with my own voice. “Do people think that they must limit themselves to the dying as punishment?” But why would this place, of all places, not have any people in it? To my knowledge, I had passed nowhere that I had declared “off-limits.” There had been places devoid of life, true, but that was because those places were so eaten, they couldn't support life.

  Yet, onward I continued. This was the direction that the Ankulen was pulling me, and thus it was the direction I needed to go. The mystery of why the Polystoikhedron hadn't touched it, and why nothing else had either, could be solved later. Such as, after I had my memories.

  With every step I took, the trees were growing larger, taller, and closer together, making me feel quite small and puny. The strangest thing was that the Ankulen's pull was slowly traveling upwards, and the conviction that my journey was nearing its end was welling up within me.

  I didn't know whether I was joyous at that fact … or scared. Sure, I wanted to have my memories back, so I could start fixing things, but … I was scared of what those memories might be. I had forgotten my world for a reason, and I wasn't sure that I wanted to know what that reason was. Besides, what if the process of remembering were to be painful? I didn't handle pain very well.

  Because of the cloud cover, it wasn't until my arm was sticking straight up and I was no longer making any forward progress that I realized that I was walking under something very large.

  Once I realized this, and looked up, I just stood there for a few seconds, just staring up at the large something that was over my head. “Apparently,” I muttered, looking up at huge slab of stone. “My memories are up there.”

  I felt a thrill of excitement – though positive or negative, I couldn't tell. I was close to finding my memories. So close!

  And yet so far away. How was I going to get up there?

  I frowned at the Ankulen. “My memories won't do me any good dangling ten feet over my head. How am I supposed to remember how to fix this place if my memories are up there, and I'm down here? Answer me that!”

  However, since the Ankulen wasn't a talking bracelet, it didn't answer. In fact, it didn't even flash at me!

  After several seconds of frustrated indecision, I realized that this thing over my head probably had an edge, and that it would probably be a lot easier to climb up there, rather than in the dead center. (And I now know that I was standing under the exact center.) So I backtracked.

  Even at a run, it took a few minutes before I was out from under the castle.

  Castle?

  Yes, there it was, plain to see, a castle suspended by chains attached to the four largest trees I had ever seen.

  “Wow.” That was the only word I found myself capable of saying.

  It looked pretty much like any castle you might find in a book of fairy tales, if you ignored the fact that it was fifteen feet off of the ground. High wall, higher towers, tiny windows. It was quite the impressive sight.

  “How am I supposed to get up there? I muttered. It was clear that the Ankulen thought that this was the location where I would find my missing memories, but that didn't do me any good if I couldn't reach them.

  Deciding that there surely was a gate somewhere, and that there might be a ladder attached, I started walking around the parameter of the castle. This was a long, tedious business, since I wasn't running, but, then again, I had all the time in the world.

  I did find a gate … but there wasn't any ladder.

  Down to the ground I sank in frustration and despair. I had come all this way and here I was, my goal in sight, but I could have been still at the Old Woman's caves, for all the good it did me.

  I could remember reading a fairy tale, a very long time ago, about a princess whose prince had been hidden in a castle like this one, “The Fairest Fairy” or something like that. I tried to remember how the princess had gained entry into the castle, but all I could recall was the fact that a green lady had given her a walnut, and that didn't help me much …

  Or did it?

  My hand flew to my hair where Walnut's stick was still thrust into my ponytail. Chris and Tisha had claimed that I could make it grow into a full-sized tree in seconds. I pulled the stick out, not caring that I was messing up the ponytail … then I frowned.

  “How do I use this?” I muttered, rubbing my fingers over the roughness of the bark. “I had my memories back then. I could … I could do anything I wanted.”

  Well, it couldn't hurt to experiment, I figured. I walked over to the gate and thrust one end of the stick into the ground below. Taking a step back, I bit my lip. “Come on … grow … I need you to
grow.”

  To my disappointment, the stick just sat there, the same size as ever. I glanced up at the gate, down at the stick, then fixed my glare on the Ankulen. “How am I going to get my memories back if they're up there and I'm down here? I honestly would like to know.”

  The Ankulen still didn't answer. I was beginning to wish that talking was one of its features. It would have been disturbing, true, but at least I would have had more to go on than just guessing.

  I tapped the gems. “Make it grow, please?”

  The Ankulen apparently decided to at last take pity on me, as there was a flash of purplish-pink light and the stick started growing. Once the branches were thick enough, I grabbed on so I could ride up.

  The gates, thankfully, opened of their own accord as soon as I touched them, so I soon found myself inside. Once the gate swung shut behind me, the tug on my wrist disappeared. I blinked and looked down at my wrist. “This is it? Now what?”

  Shaking myself, I decided to press forward to discover why this place, of all places, was the one I had chosen to stash my memories.

  Walking in this castle was easier said than done. Since it was suspended by chains, it rocked with the slightest breeze, making it very hard for me to keep my balance. To make matters worse, the place had a lulling effect, which made it hard for me to keep my eyes open.

  I found that fact a bit surprising. For the first time since I had entered my imagination, I was tired. What sort of place was this?

  I almost questioned my sanity in forcing my way into the castle.

  Yet on I pressed. The Ankulen indicated that I would find my memories here, so here I searched. Fortunately, doors continued to open at my touch, so I was able to keep moving, and thus have that defense against sleep.

  At last I came to a large room which was, I now know, in the very heart of the castle, and directly over the spot where I had stopped under the castle. In this room, in contrast to the silence I had long become accustomed to, soft music played, and the scent of lavender was heavy in the air.