Book 2: Chapter 72: A Long Ten Minutes
Stepping through the portal, Arthur let it snap shut behind him.
The only sound he made was a single footfall, but in order to survive in the borderland village, one must always be prepared. His father’s long snore cut off immediately. A dark shape laying on a simple bed roll on the other side of the room stirred.
“Who’s there?” his father rasped. “I’m armed.”
A feeling of relief threatened to overwhelm Arthur, tightening his throat. He had tried not to let himself worry too much about why his father had been absent from the cottage, but concern had been a constant companion in the back of his mind anyway.
Plus, it had been a long, trying day.
“Dad, it’s me, Arthur.”
“Arthur?”
Sitting up, his father reached for the wood stove. The cottage was small enough that nearly everything was within arm’s length. He opened the door, which let out more light.
“Arthur!” he said again, then stumbled out of bed to pull him into a rough hug. “I got your letter, but I didn’t expect you so soon. What’s—” he caught a glimpse of Brixaby — or more likely, the red glint of his eyes — and stepped back.
“Greetings!” Brixaby boomed, extending all four wings. “I applaud you on the procreation of my rider. He has proved quite useful!”
“This is Brixaby,” Arthur said. “He is my dragon.”
Calvan simply stared, then glanced back at his rumpled cot. Arthur suspected he was wondering if he was dreaming or not.
“He just recently hatched,” Arthur explained. “Dad, I don’t have much time, but we need to talk. I just came back from a meeting with the king.”
“The king?” Instantly, Calvan’s attention turned back to Arthur. He looked him up and down as if checking to make sure he was still in one piece.
Arthur knew the feeling.
“It was close,” he said, and Brixaby snorted. “Dad, I’m sorry to hit you with this, but I have—” he checked the timer on the Sun Ring Portal spell, “less than nine minutes before I have to return to the hive. I need to know why our family was sent to the border. What exactly was your crime?”
His father looked like someone had just knocked him over the head. “That is… a long story, son.”
“Then you must speak quickly!” Brixaby said. “Arthur, perhaps there is a quick story skill… ah, you would need an appropriate card for that. Never mind.”
Arthur stepped forward. “I know it’s painful, but living in ignorance is going to come back and bite me.”
It already had.
“I… yes.” Calvan nodded. “You’re a man now, and it’s… it’s well past time.”
He sank down to the cot, gathering himself.
Arthur wanted to scream at him to hurry up because this was only the first of his questions, but the man still looked shocked.
Calvan spoke. “When I inherited the dukedom from my father, your grandfather, I discovered a rot within the kingdom. It’s something all high-leveled nobles come to learn. If you’ve met the king, you know how he is: An old man trapped in a young man’s body. But his mind has not been so well preserved.”
“I noticed,” Arthur said grimly.
“He is not the only ruler like this. Some are worse, some are better, to less and greater degrees.”
“You mean other kingdoms,” Arthur said.
Calvan nodded. “We are so cut off from one another that rumors of other kingdoms have become no better than myths. But from what little information there is, the rulers are in agreement: None want to give up their power and few wish to see anyone climb the ranks.”
“Ascend the ranks, you mean.” Arthur’s fists clenched. “Are you saying that Legendary cards can move up to Mythic?”
Again, Calvan nodded. Though the motion was heavy as if he carried a great weight. “It’s said only a full set of Legendary cards can make that leap. An entire set becomes one Mythic card.”
His heart raced. “Only Legendaries, though? If I had a full set of Commons, could they become Uncommon?”
“That is the million-gold coin question, son,” Calvan said. “And a dangerous one. It would make sense, but think of the difficulty. How many Common cards are there in the world? In this kingdom? And how many are still active? If there is an accident and a Common forester dies out in the woods with his cards unclaimed, that card will eventually rot away. It will never be replaced, and the set can never be completed.”
It was difficult, but not impossible. Arthur had seen a complete set of Commons with his own eyes when he had been a boy, back when he stayed with Red’s trader caravan. Though the set had been smuggled under a thick pile of tobacco leaves which disrupted magical seeker cards.
If a set of Legendaries became a Mythic… That went a long way to explaining why the king was so adamant against somebody obtaining pairs or better.
People must have tested it out on lower ranks at some point. He bet the scholar’s guild had the answer.
He wanted to ask more, but they were pressed for time.
“There are seven scourge-gods,” Arthur said, “and five Mythic dragons.”
“Five?” His father looked up and then snorted, shaking his head. “Last I heard there were six Mythics. But that was years ago.” His lip curled in self-disgust. “I was so worried then that if the scourge-gods ever made a move — if two were to attack at once, the king’s beast would find itself overwhelmed and there would not be enough Mythics to help. Now it’s even worse.”
“Dad?” Arthur asked carefully. “Did you want to make a Mythic card?”
“No!” he said sharply. “Arthur, you must understand that this was a long-term plan. I never expected to advance the set myself, or even for you to do so. Finding a set of LegeLegendariesndries is the work of generations. It was started with my father’s father, and in all that time we’d only been able to scrape together two—”
“What about my mom’s card?” Arthur asked.
Calvan looked at him blankly, clearly not understanding.
“Hive Leader Valentina knew Lottie,” Arthur went on leadingly.
“Yes, she was a Legendary recruit for one of the hives before I knew her. Your mother—” Calvan sucked in a breath as if saying those words hurt. “It was an arranged marriage, but a happy one. Her father was a traditional man and wanted her card returned to the family. She understood it and was given two powerful Rares as recompense, though… it’s not quite the same.” He reached up to touch his own chest. “Then the ploy to build a set of Legendaries was discovered. And the king… well, I lost everything. I wanted to give Lottie, you, and your sister the best life that I could. I failed so many times—”
“Dad,” Arthur said sharply. He had sympathy for the man, but he simply didn’t have time for self-recrimination. “What was my mother’s card?”
Calvan looked at him. “She never spoke of it. I didn’t want to push, as it was too painful. But my father had done research into cards with similar powers for the set, and…”
Arthur knew where this was going. “My mother’s card might have belonged to the same set as yours.”
The strained look on his father’s face was all the answer he needed. “It was a possibility. I had hoped to give her time to heal, and then through the work of years possibly acquire it within the next generation as an in-law.”
Arthur checked the time. A minute and a half left. He spent more time than he wanted on questions. Now he had little time to convince his father to save himself.
“Lional Rowantree knows I’m your son now. He’s probably going to send men down here for you. He might even contact Baron Kane to do it, if he hasn’t already. You need to leave.”
“I can’t.”
“Do you still have any of those cards I left with you?” Arthur continued. “Or I can give you one? I have some in my anchor I can give—”
“I cannot, son. I swore an oath to stay.”
Arthur considered letting the timer for the Sun Ring Portal run out and then going back to the hive via his Return to Start card. Brixaby could come along in his storage space.
But that was a last resort escape card. He would rather it stay secret for as long as possible.
Time to brute force the issue.
“Brix, do you sense an oath card in his heart deck?”
“Ohh.” Brixaby’s eyes were little pinpoint specks of red in the gloom.
Sensing his attention, his father stepped back.
“There is something,” Brixaby said. “Not in the heart deck, exactly. Just outside of it but latched on like a parasite.”
“Take it,” Arthur said.
“Now wait a minute,” his father said. “You can’t just—!” He broke off in a sharp shout.
Brixaby, always eager for any new card, zipped over to Calvan and ripped it out of his chest before the man could begin to swat him away.
Calvan gave a choked gasp, looking like the wind had been knocked out of him.
Brixaby returned to his perch on Arthur’s shoulder.
Taking the card, Arthur looked it over.
The oath his father had been required to take was like a wrapping of heavy chains compared to the light leash of Arthur’s.
In Calvan’s handwriting, the card read he swore he would give up all claims to his lands and individual rights, that he would never again take any cards, that he would stay within Baron Kane’s lands until his death.
The king’s handwriting was much simpler: Witnessed.
Even as Arthur read the card, it disintegrated to dust between his fingers. Arthur looked up to see his father staring.
“Dad, are you okay?”
“I feel… good.” he took in a deep, bracing breath. “The oath is gone. It’s really gone. You… taught your dragon to do that?”
Brixaby bristled. “Stealing cards happens to be my specialty.”
“Amazing.” Calvan stood up straighter. He blinked, and his eyes looked suddenly clear.
“Dad,” Arthur said urgently. The seconds were counting down. “Come with me to the hive. I can hide you.”
“No, Arthur.” He shook his head. “There is… well, a very special lady here. Now, I can see you were right. I need to hide. But I won’t leave her.”
That helped explain why his father had been absent from the cottage. Arthur was glad. He deserved someone in his life.
“Is she bound by an oath? Brix could—”
“Twenty-three seconds left,” Brixaby said. He looked regretful, like he would very much enjoy taking another card.
“Go,” his father said, “I’ll manage. Don’t get trapped here, Arthur.”
With a frustrated sound, Arthur turned and reached for the Sun Ring Portal. It took a few precious seconds to open it back up to his new suite in the hive.
Before stepping through, Arthur looked over his shoulder. “Tell the parents of the children I took that they’re doing well, and… and I’m not done with this village. Brixaby has to grow up, and I have to train to get stronger. Once we’re ready, I’ll be back for anyone else who wants to leave.”
His father smiled. It was a clearer expression than he remembered seeing. “I’ll tell them. I’m proud of you, son.”
Arthur stepped through just as the last seconds counted to zero.
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