Chapter 9: Emily and the Monks

Dorian lead them along a circuitous route through tunnels and caverns of the Deep Realm, with the intent of putting as much distance between them and the goblin town as possible. The nightmoss on the cavern walls grew sparser as they moved further from the town, finally disappearing entirely.

During the journey, Emily, Aria and Talyndra brought each other up to date on what had happened to each of them since their sudden descent. Talyndra and Aria had been together for the fall, and Talyndra had used her elf magic to ensure it was a soft landing. They’d landed close to the elf town, and Talyndra had disguised herself in some of the clothes from Maribel’s shop, which she and Aria had grabbed onto just before the floor fell in.

“I wish I’d done that,” Emily whispered. “Though with my luck I would have probably just grabbed that right-half dress. Or something worse!”

As long as Talyndra kept most of her face covered and didn’t let anyone get too close, she passed for a tall goblin and was able to go about the town relatively unnoticed. Aria had disguised herself as an ordinary statue, which Talyndra hired some help to move to room she had rented.

While in the town, Talyndra had managed a surprising amount of shopping. She’d bought a lot of different clothes, non-perishable foodstuff, some weapons, and more parchment and ink for Emily. There was still plenty of money left over from the sale of the ship, and Talyndra had taken good care of Zephyr’s book and Emily’s notes, which Emily was very happy to be reunited with. Talyndra had also bought herself a twin swords and a couple of small daggers for Emily and Aria.

When the nightmoss had completely disappeared from the tunnel walls, Emily found a private cavern to swap Dorian’s cloak for a more respectable outfit. Thanks to Talyndra’s shopping, she had a wide array of choices. She picked out a pair of dark trousers, a pink shirt, green waistcoat and a gray traveling cloak. All of these were designed for a male goblin, and the trouser legs were a bit short, but Emily had learned not to complain about these things.

Aria and Talyndra raised eyebrows and exchanged glances as Emily told them what had happened to her since their separation. Dorian, being focused on the route ahead, contributed little, not even defending himself or chipping in as Emily told the story of her capture.

Once Dorian judged that they were far enough from the town, they set up camp in a secluded chamber only accessible from a narrow and easy to miss tunnel. When the tent was set up and the fire lit, Dorian announced that he would leave them briefly to scout the way ahead. “There’s a shortcut up ahead that I want to make sure hasn’t been closed,” he said. “I won’t be gone long.”

Now that it was just the three of them, Aria asked Emily to repeat her story, and not to spare any details about Dorian’s actions. Emily did so, staring into the flames, stretching her hair tie between her thumb and fingers.

Dorian had surprised Emily with the hair tie just before Talyndra returned to the nightmoss cavern. It had miraculously escaped the fiery fate of the clothes she’d had on when she was captured by the goblins. She’d been surprised at how happy she was to see it again, and he’d asked her forgiveness for not restoring it along with the Bronzeband. She had smiled and explained that it did not have any magical powers, though he’d nonetheless marveled at its elasticity.

It was good to have something to remind her of her own world, and her previous life which was feeling less real with every passing day. Flexing the elastic between her fingers was a reminder of everything she’d left behind, and hoped to one day return to.

“Are you certain that we can trust him?” Aria asked, once Emily’s story had concluded.

“No,” Emily replied, slipping the hair tie back onto her wrist. “But I do trust three of us against just one of him, should it come to that.” To punctuate her words, she summoned a small flame to dance above her palm.

Talyndra grinned, her hand resting on the hilt of her new twin swords. “Don’t worry, Aria, I’m keeping a close eye on this one.”

“He does know this place better than any of us,” Emily pointed out. “Without his guidance, we’ll never find our way back to the surface. It’s not as if we could ask the goblins for directions.”

“I did try that,” mused Talyndra. “The goblin just asked why a young lass such as myself would ever be interested in visiting the surface and told me a bunch of stories about how deadly the weather is there. Then he wanted to know why I had a scarf wrapped around my face and I got out of there and didn’t ask again.”

“I will keep a vigilant watch on our new guide,” said Aria. “It is fortunate that I have no need for sleep.”

“Just don’t be too mean to him. We really do need his help to get back to the surface,” Emily replied.

“Methinks Emily may want his help in some other areas,” said Talyndra, chuckling.

“Yes! He’s a spellbreaker, so he might also be able to help us break Aria’s curse,” Emily said brightly. “At the very least, he has a contact in Paja Abbey and can get us there.”

“Of course,” Talyndra said, smiling slyly. She winked at Emily, who furrowed her brow in response.

Aria laughed gently.

Emily’s raised an eyebrow.

Aria and Talyndra exchanged glances, and then immediately fell into fits of giggling. When she had recovered enough to speak, Talyndra, wiping a tear from her eye, wheezed out, “I think there are some spells he won’t be able to break!”

“Well, probably,” Emily lamented. “But that’s why we’re traveling to Paja Abbey. Regardless, I am quite looking forward to learning what I can about spellbreaking. You never know when something like that may come in useful.

“I’m sure you are,” Talyndra said with a small smile, hurriedly recomposing herself as the sound of approaching footstep grew louder. “Speaking of which, this is probably him now.”

Dorian scrambled in through the cave entrance, smiling wearily at the ladies around the fire. “The way ahead is clear. I’ve scouted a path where we shouldn’t meet any goblins. Even if we do, we’re far enough away from Stonerest now that they shouldn’t be on the lookout for human mages. As long as there haven’t been any cave-ins in the last three weeks, we should have a smooth path ahead to the surface.”

“That’s wonderful!” Emily exclaimed. “I can’t wait to see the sun and sky again.”

Talyndra suppressed a giggle. “I-I do miss the trees,” she said. “And my outfit needs a refresh.” The leaf dress Talyndra wore underneath her goblin cloak looked decidedly autumnal and was beginning to fall apart.

“How many days’ journey do we have ahead of us?” asked Aria.

“Two weeks to the surface, at my estimate,” Dorian replied. “Paja Abbey is a day’s hike from the cave entrance.”

Talyndra groaned. “When this is all over, I’m never leaving my home forest again!”

After a meal of mostly tasteless non-perishables, the group turned in for the night. Emily and Talyndra were given the tent to share, while Dorian set up his own bed outside of it. Aria said she would stand watch.

Before Emily turned in for the night, she had a brief word with Aria. “Paja Abbey is in sight,” she said. “Between their help and Dorian’s, I believe we will soon lift your curse. I hope you don’t mind it too much when you have to eat and sleep again.”

Aria smiled sweetly. “I am counting down the hours, dear Emily. I have missed the taste of food, and I have missed the refreshment of sleep and joy of dreams. Hunger, fatigue, even nightmares, are a small price to pay. But until then, you must relish your food and your sleep for both of us.”

“I’ll make sure we have something better to eat than dried meat and biscuits when you turn back. Perhaps the monks will hold a feast in your honor!”

“Perhaps. Good night, Emily.”

“Good night, Aria.”

After saying good night to Dorian, Emily slipped inside the tent and changed into a beautiful silk nightgown, another item of clothing Talyndra had bought for her. Talyndra had removed her cloak and leaf dress and was already lying on her side of the bedroll. Emily lay down beside her.

“Don’t worry about what Aria says, she’s just concerned for you,” Talyndra said. “He seems like a good man to me. The look on his face when we thought you had drowned in that moss convinced me.”

“What are you talking about?” Emily asked, sleepily.

“Is everyone from your world this slow-witted, or is just the humans?”

“Hey!”

Talyndra rolled her eyes. “Frankly I’m surprised you haven’t picked up a gentleman companion sooner, running all across Thessolan in nothing but that necklace. Thessolan is full of brave, strapping adventurer lads like him, and you’re a beautiful young woman who’s got a quick hand with fireballs. We both know the effect you had on Captain Richard.”

Emily shuddered. “Don’t remind me. Anyway, I’ve been far too busy trying to learn about this world and the Stoneshell and Aria’s curse and also trying not to get killed! I haven’t had time to think about romance!”

“That’s a lie. All those nights, lying naked under the stars? I know what I’d be thinking about.”

Emily blushed furiously and shoved a pillow over her head. “Good night, Talyndra.”

Talyndra chuckled and turned onto her side. “‘Night Emily. Sweet dreams.”

Emily made an unintelligible sound and tried to fall asleep.

For the next fourteen days, Emily and her companions wandered the labyrinthine tunnels of the Deep Realm, guided by Dorian’s map, on which he’d frequently make marks and annotations. They squeezed through passages so narrow that even the air seemed to gasp for breath, and traversed galleries of stone so vast that Aria’s marble form seemed but a pebble in comparison.

The Deep Realm was home to more than magic-phobia goblins. Silent schools of blind fish swam through underground lakes, bioluminescent worms wove glowing tapestries across cavern ceilings, and enormous colonies of bats in strange colors flapped and screeched overhead. Once, they heard the distant, echoing call of a creature too immense and ancient to reveal itself to surface dwellers, no matter how much Talyndra wanted to fight it.

“There are some things best left buried,” Dorian said, beckoning them away from the sound.

They ate sparingly from their dwindling supplies, supplementing their meals with mushrooms and roots that Dorian assured them were safe, though often bitter. Their progress was slow, each step a cautious advance through a world that seemed to hold its breath, waiting for them to make a misstep. Days bled into nights in the unchanging darkness, and Emily found herself running down endless twisting tunnels in both her dreams and waking life.

The silence and stillness of their surroundings were punctuated by moments of tension and fear, when the faintest sound of footsteps or the glimmer of torchlight would send them scrambling for cover, hearts pounding in their chests. The occasional meeting with a goblin patrol was to be avoided, or at least swiftly concluded. Dorian and Talyndra did the talking, and Emily avoided making fire appear anywhere. Aria covered herself at all times with a heavy cloak, as a living statue could be nothing other than magical.

Only when they found safe, secluded spaces could Emily dare to practice her magic with Aria. They focused on small actions, on precise control, while Talyndra and Dorian watched for passing goblins. After having been forced to use the Bronzeband in her escape from the goblin town, a switch seemed to have flicked in Emily’s mind, and she found herself able to move and break apart small rocks almost as naturally as she now summoned fire. But it was draining work—after a long practice session, she would feel a deep itch in the skin of her ankle.

When they were too close to a goblin settlement, they would spend their rest time going over Emily’s studies of the Stoneshell, with Dorian postulating methods by which the statue curse might be lifted. All required rare ingredients and highly technical rituals, making the aid of the Paja Abbey monks seem all the more vital.

They passed seven goblin settlements, some of which consisted of a couple of stone huts, while others dwarfed Stonerest in their enormity. Talyndra ventured into the larger settlements in her goblin disguise to replenish their supplies.

On rare occasions when they still had energy after a day’s travel, Dorian sparred with Talyndra. Dorian’s powerful and deliberate strikes with his giant claymore met Talyndra’s nimble evasions and swift counterattacks, her twin swords whipping and flowing as a single weapon.

Finally, when it seemed that they had been born in darkness and would die there too, Dorian announced that they had started the ascent to the surface. They followed a steep, spiraling path, and as they climbed higher, the darkness seemed to lift, and the air grew fresher, tinged with the faint scent of earth and grass.

Before they could quite realize it, they turned the final corner and emerged, blinking and newborn, into a world so bright and vast that for a moment they feared they might float away into the endless blue above.

At once, Talyndra fell upon the green grass and rolled around in it, squealing with delight. The goblin cloak slipped off her shoulders, revealing a leaf dress that had become little more than a leaf bikini. “Oh sun! Oh grass! Oh trees! Oh forest!”

Emily smiled and took a deep breath of fresh air, relishing the sun’s warmth and the gentle breeze. She had forgotten how it felt to be in a bright, open space, able to see beyond the glow of Dorian’s oil lamp. Aria and Dorian maintained their usual composure, but the ends of Aria’s lips curled into a slight smile, and the lines of tension across Dorian’s face appeared to soften.

“Paja Abbey is a day’s journey to the north,” Dorian said, after Talyndra had hugged every tree in the vicinity. He looked up at the sun, shielding his eyes with one hand. “If we keep a good pace until sunset, we should arrive early tomorrow morning.”

“Let’s go,” Emily said. She and the others felt renewed vigor in every step, now that they walked on the ground rather than beneath it.

They journeyed until the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange, purple, and gold. “Perhaps I have missed the sunset more than the sun itself,” Dorian remarked, as they stopped at a particularly scenic spot to watch it.

As the twilight depened, they set up camp in a secluded clearing nestled amongst a cluster of ancient oaks. Dorian gathered firewood while Emily and Aria put up the tent.

Talyndra, meanwhile, hummed softly to herself as she gathered fallen leaves. Green sparks danced about her deft fingers as she wove them together, their stems forming intricate patterns. Soon, a new dress, vibrant and green as spring, cascaded down her form, replacing the tattered remnants of the one she’d made in Port Turon.

“That looks beautiful, Talyndra,” Emily remarked, admiring her friend’s newest design. “I wish I could make clothes with magic like that. But all my magic seems to do is destroy them...”

Talyndra’s lips curving into a mischievous smile. “If only humans weren’t so deaf to the magic all around them, I’d teach you,” she said.

As darkness fell and the stars emerged, they ate a fresh meal of starvine berries and wild bellgrapes that they had plucked along their journey. Even Dorian had become heartily sick of cured meat and dried fruit, so this was a welcome change from their cave rations.

The next morning, they broke camp swiftly, eager to reach their destination. The dew-damp grass crunched softly beneath their feet as they followed a narrow path that wound its way through towering trees and sun-dappled glades.

They reached Paja Abbey shortly after sunrise the next morning. The abbey was nestled in a lush valley, surrounded by snow-capped mountains. Towering spires of weathered stone pierced the misty morning sky. The iron gate was half-lifted, and Emily, Dorian, Talyndra and Aria entered, each one lost in their own thoughts about what lay ahead.

As Dorian stepped into the courtyard, he yelled a greeting at the top of his lungs. “Dorian Blackwood returns with the ingredients requested by Brother Thaddeus! I am accompanied by three ladies who have traveled far and suffered much to seek the aid of the monks!”

A few minutes passed before a wooden door at the base of one of the dormitories set into the abbey walls creaked open. A short, bald man dressed in brown robes with a bushy blond beard and a jolly expression ambled out of the door, eyes and smile wide. “At last, Blackwood returns!” he cried. “I do hope you were able to get everything I asked for.”

“It is good to see you, Brother Thaddeus,” Dorian said, taking the monk’s proffered hand. He produced a few small bags from the inside of his cloak, dangling one on each finger. “I hope that you will find these satisfactory.”

The monk took the bags from Dorian one-by-one, unfastening each and peering inside. Finally, he nodded, and the bags disappeared into the folds of his robes. “These are excellent, Blackwood. Very fine work.” Then he turned his attention to Dorian’s companions.

“My word,” he said. A thousand expressions seemed to pass across his face in a matter of seconds as he looked from Emily to Talyndra to Aria. “A living statue. That must mean ... the Stoneshell!”

Emily nodded, pulling the Stoneshell out from beneath her dress. “Brother Thaddeus,” she began, her voice wavering slightly as she mentally arranged her greeting. “My name is Emily. I’m the Stoneshell Bearer, and I’ve come to ask for assistance from the monks of Paja Abbey in breaking Arctulus’ curse and returning the statues of Castle Elid to their natural forms. With me is Aria, one of the statues. The others should be arriving soon.”

Thaddeus was silent for a moment, taking in everything Emily had said. “Follow me. You must speak with the abbess.”

With this, he lead them across the courtyard and to the main building in the center of the abbey, which housed the grand hall. He strained as he pushed open the great wooden double-doors and then ushered them inside.

The grand hall was an enormous room with a vaulted ceiling, decorated with colorful frescoes depicting mages, kings and queens, dragons and other magical creatures. Giant stained-glass windows continued these themes on either side of the hall, with the sun shining through them in multicolored lights on rows of long tables made of polished wood. The floor was made of a similar polished wood, with an ornate red rugs draped across the center of the room, leading to a raised dias upon which rested a heavy book.

The effect was something like a church, Emily felt, though its lack of crosses or any other symbols she associated with one made it feel deeply unfamiliar, reminding her just how different Thessolan really was from her world.

Thaddeus led them to a small, inconspicuous door set into the wall on the right side of the dias, which he rapped his knuckles against sharply. “Abbess Althea! I have with me a group of visitors who seek the aid of Paja Abbey. They are lead by Emily, who calls herself Stoneshell Bearer.”

Instantly, there was a click, and the door opened to reveal a bald woman dressed in flowing orange robes—Althea, the Abbess of Paja Abbey. She stood perfectly still, surveying the travelers. Then she stepped forward and grabbed the Stoneshell.

Emily felt a twinge of fear, and the Stoneshell glowed red with heat. But rather than pulling her hand back, the woman merely smiled and looked Emily in the eye. Though her demeanor was not aggressive or forceful, Emily got the distinct sense that the best she could do just then was take a deep breath, relax and let the Stoneshell cool off. She did so, and the pendant returned to its usual gray color.

Althea then leaned her head closer to Emily, cocking it to one side so that she could place her ear against the pendant’s surface. “The ocean,” she said in a sharp, matter-of-fact tone, holding it up to Emily’s ear.

Emily’s eyes widened as she too heard the ocean through the stone. And not just the illusion of waves, as one might with a regular seashell, but the sounds of seagulls calling, dolphins chittering, and then, as she listened closer still, the deep, sonorous boom of a whale call. She wondered why it had never occured to her to listen to the Stoneshell before.

“This is the genuine artifact,” said Althea. “The last time I saw it was in this very room. Please enter.”

Althea stepped backwards into the small room at the back of the grand hall, and Emily followed, with Aria, Talyndra, Dorian and Thaddeus entering behind them, making the small room quite crowded. Dorian and Aria had to duck to make it through the doorway, and crouched awkwardly beneath the room’s low ceiling.

The walls of the room were lined with bookshelves and held a few low chairs and tables, at which everyone was encouraged to find a seat. Even Aria obliged, preferring to sit than to stoop.

“The Stoneshell used to sit right over there, during its season at Paja Abbey,” said Althea, pointing at an empty red cushion on a lectern between two overflowing bookshelves. “It was shared between the four great magical abbies of Thessolan, in those days, spending a quarter of every year in each one’s custody. Until Arctulus stole it, of course. I never trusted him.”

Aria’s stone brow furrowed. “You ... knew Arctulus?”

Althea nodded.

“But that would make you...”

“Five hundred and twenty seven years old,” Althea said proudly. “I celebrated my birthday just last week.”

Emily gasped. “But you don’t look a day over—” She paused, staring at the strangely ageless woman, unable to think of how to finish that sentence. “Uh, you don’t look, um, as old as all that.”

“Abbess Althea is a master of time magic,” Brother Thaddeus explained.

“It has allowed me serve Paja Abbey for far longer than any previous abbot or abbess,” Althea said, a note of weariness in her voice. “It has allowed me to wait for the return of the Stoneshell, an event that many a long-dead mage assured me would never come to pass. But here it is, home at last.”

Emily furrowed her brow. For an instant, she wanted to argue with Althea, but then thought better of it. “My friends and I have come a long way to ask for your assistance in breaking the curse that Arctulus cast on the Stoneshell,” she said. “The one that keeps Aria and the other statues of Castle Elid encased in bodies of unfeeling stone.”

Althea nodded. “That was not a sanctioned enchantment. Arctulus was among those tasked with moving the Stoneshell to Hargan Abbey for the winter, but he turned on his companions and stole it for himself, to use for his own purpose.”

“He was a horrible, hateful man,” said Aria, her voice dripping with bitterness. “The mages of Castle Elid were quite bad enough on their own, casting temporary petrification spells on servants and visitors for amusement or vengeance, but he came in and made it permanent.”

“Flesh to stone, bronze and clay, castle sealed, key hidden away,” Thaddeus recited. “Shell bearer, wear it well, shell bearer, break the spell.”

Althea regarded Emily with a steady gaze. “Arctulus was afraid of the Stoneshell Bearer. He sealed Castle Elid to prevent the Bearer from acquiring it. But it would appear that he failed. Tell me, how was it that you were able to enter the castle? Over the centuries, many of the most powerful and learned mages have attempted to breach the castle’s seal, but all have failed.”

One side of Emily’s mouth curved into a small half-smile. She glanced at Aria, who gave a small nod, and then said, “That’s actually something else I would like your help with. I don’t know how I came to be there. You see, I’m not actually from Thessolan, or any part of this world at all. I’m from somewhere totally different, where we don’t have mages, or elves or goblins or any of that. One moment, I was reading a book in the bath, and then the light went out. When I stepped out of the tub to investigate, I found that I was no longer in my bathroom, but a cold, empty room in a place I later found out was Castle Elid. I had no idea where I was or what had happened. And I don’t know how to get back to my world.”

Althea steepled her fingers in front of her nose. “That ... explains a few things.”

“It does?”

“Of course,” exclaimed Thaddeus. “The window!”

“Window?”

“Please do the honors, Brother Thaddeus,” said Althea, motioning to a dull gray cloth that hung on the wall behind the cushioned lectern which once housed the Stoneshell.

Thaddeus jumped to his feet and sprung across the room, carefully taking cloth in both hands and lifting it from the wall-hanging it concealed. “The windows in our great hall display prophecies. This used to be one of them, but it was destroyed by Arctulus. Only recently have we been able to restore it to nearly its original condition.”

There was a collective gasp as the visitors to the abbey took in the scene depicted in stained glass. It showed a stone bathtub full of soap bubbles, in which a woman stood, looking serenely out at the viewer, arms held out to her sides, palms facing forward. Long, chestnut-colored hair fell about her shoulders, and the air around her was suffused with soap bubbles. Around her neck hung a simple necklace with a gray pendant shaped like a seashell.

She was entirely naked and hairless below the neck.

“The resemblance is uncanny,” said Aria, after a long moment of silence.

Emily felt a blush creep up her neck, heating her skin almost like the Stoneshell. “It’s ... accurate,” she admitted, her gaze darting between the stained-glass depiction of her nude self and the staring faces of her companions.

Aria, her stone features unable to quite conceal a smirk, patted Emily’s arm sympathetically. “As soon as you wandered into our hall in Castle Elid, I knew you had to be the subject of prophecy.”

Dorian, after a quick glance at the window, had the good grace to look abashed, his cheeks turning a dull shade of red beneath his beard. He mumbled something about the craftsmanship of the glasswork and busied himself examining a particularly detailed fresco of a griffin battling a hydra on the far wall.

Talyndra, however, dissolved into a fit of giggles, her laughter echoing through the small chamber. “Oh, Emily!” she wheezed, clutching her sides. “It must be like looking in a mirror!”

Even Abbess Althea cracked a small smile, though her expression quickly turned serious again. “This window,” she said, her voice taking on a reverent tone, “depicts the arrival of the heiress to Evangeline, the second Stoneshell Bearer. Arctulus destroyed it many years ago, for he believed that by sealing the Stoneshell in the depths of Castle Elid, a place impenetrable to the outside world, he had prevented the prophecy from being fulfilled.”

She turned to Emily, her eyes sharp and appraising. “But it seems that he failed,” she said. “For clearly, the prophecy refers to you.”

Emily frowned, her brows knitting with perplexity. “Why was Arctulus so concerned with preventing this ... prophecy? And why did he have to curse Aria and the others to do it?”

“That I do not know,” said Althea. “But perhaps another could explain.”

All eyes in the room turned to Aria. A funny feeling rose in Emily’s stomach as she thought back over the many long conversations she’d had with Aria since they emerged from Castle Elid, an event which felt very long ago. Aria had told her much about magic and the world of Thessolan, but little about herself or her past. Emily knew she’d had a sister, that she’d been a friend of Elara’s ancestor Isolde, and that she’d studied magic, but little else. Somehow, even as Emily had told her all about her own life in Greenville, Aria had avoided sharing anything substantial about herself.

After a long pause, Aria spoke. “It was mere opportunism on his part. Arctulus exploited deep grudges and bad blood to turn the castle mages of Elid against the castle’s servants and defenders. The king’s father had been favorable to mages, but the new king was more comfortable in the company of warriors, and this led to immense friction between the two groups. Arctulus came to the castle mages with a plan of vengeance. I know because I was one of them.”

“How was the spell cast?” asked Althea.

“Creating a long-term seal at the scale of an entire castle requires not only an artifact of immense power, and a large assembly of mages, but also lifeforce,” said Aria. “Arctulus hypothesized that turning people into immortal living stone would provide an almost permanent source of lifeforce. He needed near fifty victims to turn to stone and the castle’s whole complement of mages to cast the spell.”