Candlewax Read online

  A 732-year-old fairrier cat the size of a horse has killed his fair share of hunters. Driven to the brink of extinction for the supernatural powers of his coat, is he indeed the last of his kind?

  Sheltered, sixteen-year-old Catherine is about to find out. Unwitting heir to the Ancient Onyxes, she flees an arranged marriage only to stumble upon the cat’s secrets, the force of the ancient relic she wears, and the dangerous mission they must undertake.

  Hidden under a desert that was once a fertile land, millions of predators are waiting to feast again. Catherine must discover the secret of the Ancient Onyxes and stop the creatures known as trodliks before they consume everything in their path. A whispered prophecy becomes her only guide and a rejected suitor just might be the one warrior she desperately needs.

  C. Bailey Sims delivers a medieval masterpiece of adventure, romance and horror in the epic Candlewax.

  Terabyte Press

  Newtown, Conn.

  Map

  This book is for my family

  — C. Bailey Sims

  CONTENTS

  Map

  Prologue

  PART I: THE HEIR OF THE ONYXES

  Chapter 1. Escape

  Chapter 2. Spelopokos

  Chapter 3. The Prophecy

  Chapter 4. Swiggins

  Chapter 5. No Good-Byes

  Chapter 6. By Way of Courtney Creek

  Chapter 7. The Candlewax King

  Chapter 8. The King Meets the Princess

  Chapter 9. An Awkward Courtship

  Chapter 10. Candlewax

  Chapter 11. The Feast

  Chapter 12. The Cinna Gate

  Chapter 13. The Betrayer

  Chapter 14. The Desert Moves

  PART II: LAND OF THE ANCIENTS

  Chapter 15. Thirst for Vengeance

  Chapter 16. Fork in the Trail

  Chapter 17. Fairrier Cats

  Chapter 18. Blizzard

  Chapter 19. Double-Talk

  Chapter 20. Pool of Secrets

  Chapter 21. Sacrifice

  Chapter 22. Crafting the Bow

  Chapter 23. The Crossers

  Chapter 24. The Marksman

  Chapter 25. Duray Principas

  Chapter 26. The Making of a Queen

  Chapter 27. The Chase

  Chapter 28. The Settlement

  Chapter 29. Scion of Elsath

  Chapter 30. Zekkarados

  Chapter 31. Falling

  Chapter 32. An Unlikely Alliance

  Chapter 33. All Souls Ravine

  Chapter 34. Secret of the Onyxes

  PART III: MARCH OF THE TRODLIKS

  Chapter 35. By Sweat and Blood

  Chapter 36. Rogard’s Legacy

  Chapter 37. Conrad’s Task

  Chapter 38. Smoke

  Chapter 39. The Fall of Candlewax

  Chapter 40. Sebastian

  Chapter 41. Return to Lackanay

  Chapter 42. Change of Heart

  Chapter 43. The New Prisoner

  Chapter 44. Retreat

  Chapter 45. Captain Conrad

  Chapter 46. March of the Trodliks

  Chapter 47. Deathtrap

  Chapter 48. The Pride

  Chapter 49. Conrad’s Colors

  Chapter 50. Soldiers of Candlewax

  Chapter 51. Hawk’s Nest

  Chapter 52. Square Face’s Princess

  Chapter 53. Catherine of the Onyxes

  Epilogue

  Guide to Characters

  Pronunciation Guide

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  The fairrier cat’s whiskers tingled. This never failed to annoy him, for it meant his concentration had faltered. He looked again at his large paws, using his inner consciousness to see what humans might see. He sighed in relief. There was nothing but a shimmering, momentary flicker in the crisp fall air.

  But a village boy had seen him. His eyes had gone wide and Spelopokos had smelled his fear as he bolted back down the path to Portsland, the harbor on the southeast coast of Crystallia. The cat chuckled.

  Still, if someone other than a mere lad had seen him, he would be forced to run again. Hunters would comb the woods as they always did, seeking their fortunes in the sale of his skin. And why not? The price of a single fairrier cat pelt could feed a whole village for years.

  It’s her fault, he thought, and his annoyance grew. He was a patient creature, but waiting for the Heir of the Onyxes to take her place at his side was becoming more tedious and dangerous with each passing day. Why hasn’t she come to me? The cat had kept careful count of the years. The princess was sixteen. Doesn’t she care about the danger that faces all of Lackanay?

  The fairrier cat growled. He was furious with the heir and he hadn’t even met her.

  It didn’t help that his stomach had shriveled into a knot of hunger. In the past few months he had killed most of the deer in the nearby woods. A male fairrier cat could eat half his weight in a month— four or five hundred pounds of meat. Soon he would need to change his hunting grounds.

  He sniffed the breeze toward Candlewax, the neighboring kingdom to Crystallia. Sometimes, if the wind blew in the right direction, he could catch the faint clean scent of Candlewax Wood on the air. Beyond lay the vast, empty expanse of Devona. It had once been a beautiful and lush country before the trodliks had destroyed it.

  Loneliness settled in his heart. Spelopokos suspected that he was the last fairrier cat in all of Lackanay. Only his presence kept the trodliks away. The future of Lackanay depended on him and the heir.

  Where are you, Catherine?

  PART I

  THE HEIR OF THE ONYXES

  Catherine grabbed the candelabrum, flinching as hot wax dripped over her hand. I hope this isn’t an omen. She peeled the wax away with distaste, opened her chamber door a crack, and peered out. The corridor was empty. He doesn’t suspect.

  She turned and looked back at her bed. She could snuff the candles, creep back under the covers, and her father would be none the wiser. Her eyes closed for a moment as the weight of her decision nearly overwhelmed her. Then, steadying herself, she opened them and went into the hallway, closing the door behind her. She crept down the servants’ stairway that led to the kitchen, where the smell of rosemary and roast chicken clung to the air, and the great ovens were still warm. She turned into another passage, gliding by the kitchen staff’s sleeping cupboards. Loud snores erupted. Catherine froze. Now is not the time for an encounter with Cook.

  As Catherine slipped into the dining hall a giant white dog raised his head, cocked his ears, and growled. She hadn’t considered him.

  “It’s me, Wolfy!” whispered Catherine. If the huge dog barked, every guard in the castle would come running. Upon catching her scent Wolfy panted a greeting and his plume-like tail thumped on the carpet. Catherine heaved a sigh of relief. Other than the occasional pop from the dying embers in the hearth, all was quiet.

  Wolfy rose to his feet and sauntered over to Catherine, pushing his great head into her and nearly knocking her over. She put the candelabrum down on the dining hall table and hugged him hard, burying her face in his long white fur. She allowed herself to feel Wolfy’s devotion and loved him in return. This won’t do. She loosed her grip and rubbed the unwelcome tears away with her sleeve. Wolfy looked at her with his large soulful eyes and sniffed quizzically.

  “Good boy,” she murmured.

  Catherine slipped to the right of the fireplace, where built into the wall was a hold for firewood. Catherine focused her attention here, moving the heavy logs out of the way, struggling to do it quietly. Wolfy sat attentively as if he were supervising, watching as she lifted each log and set it in a new pile. You’re a lot of help, boy. After a minute he turned in several circles and pl
opped down on the carpet. His eyes continued to follow her movements until they finally drooped shut.

  Out of breath and perspiring, Catherine found the heavy oak door set into the floor and pulled up hard on the iron ring until it yielded with a loud creak. Wolfy opened his eyes. She held the candelabrum high and stepped down into a stone spiral staircase. At least I don’t need to worry about Wolfy following me to the vault. He hates stairs.

  The staircase had been built into the castle as a secret route in the time of her grandmother. Unlike the main stairway, it was not guarded. She picked her way down the tightly turned steps through wispy curtains of cobwebs and thought again about what she would say to the two guards directly outside the vault. Keep calm. They’ll assume you’ve already passed the others.

  The candlelight flickered on the rough granite walls. The air smelled of charcoal and ashes. Catherine stepped on something crunchy. The candlelight illuminated a desiccated bat, its bones now pulverized. She stifled a cry and took the next step down.

  At last the stairway opened up into the corridor. Dim light came from a single torch about twenty yards away, held fast to the wall by an iron bracket. She looked directly to her right at the stout oak-and-iron door.

  Catherine hurried away, afraid that the light of her candelabrum might find its way through the large crack under the door and catch the attention of the guards on the other side. She reached the turn in the main corridor and paused, brushing a cobweb from her hair, straightening her shoulders, and then striding in what she hoped was a confident manner around the corner.

  Good! It’s Sir Gavin and Kevin. Sir Gavin was like an uncle to her, and Kevin had always been shy and nervous. Catherine guessed that Sir Gavin must be training the young man—he had far too much authority to take a guard shift at this hour unless it was by choice.

  Sir Gavin’s sword was half out of the scabbard before he recognized her. With a stern look he slid it back. Kevin’s surprised smile quickly vanished, replaced by a more appropriate, solemn expression as he stood up straighter.

  “My lady should be in bed at this hour,” scolded Sir Gavin. He had a deep voice befitting his tall, battle-hardened frame. The torchlight on the wall wavered with the draft of air coming down the spiral staircase. It was the kind of thing Sir Gavin would notice, given the opportunity. She rushed to claim his attention.

  “I was having bad dreams, Sir Gavin.” She paused for effect. I must play upon his sympathy, she thought, as much as she despised the lie. “I need my grandmother’s talisman to go back to sleep. My talisman now. I won’t be able to rest peacefully until I have placed it around my neck. Grandmother used to let me sleep with it whenever I had nightmares. She said it would keep me safe.”

  “Yes. I remember well.”

  Sir Gavin’s large graying mustache gave his face a forbidding look, but the gentle expression in his eyes betrayed his affection for her. “Don’t worry, Princess Catherine. We shall be right outside the vault if you need us.” He took a key from inside his tunic, unlocked the heavy oak-and-iron door, and pushed it open for her.

  Catherine stepped into the vault with her candelabrum. She heaved the door shut with her free hand and looked around. The candlelight was answered by gleaming reflections from floor to ceiling. The small stone enclosure was crowded with royal treasures—the gold feast cups, the silver plates that were so familiar, and her father’s ceremonial sword with the bejeweled brazen hilt. Lining one end of the treasury was shelf after shelf of loose crystals sorted by size and color. Catherine refused to even consider taking them, for they belonged to the kingdom of Crystallia.

  Her eyes rested on the tiara that her father had given her on her sixteenth birthday, just a few months ago. It was made of crystals mined from the Great South Pit, the source of Crystallia’s vast wealth. I was so happy when he gave it to me. Little did I know the cost of turning sixteen. She grabbed it, along with her crystal earrings, necklace, and ring. She took her gold chains, rings, and stomacher, knowing she could live ten lifetimes with the wealth of her jewels.

  Her eyes settled on the gleaming reflections of a smoky, blue-black pearl necklace from the island of Alliana. Her mother, Queen Sarah, had told her that such large, perfectly matched pearls had taken decades to find. Catherine lifted the pearls from the velvet tray and put them with her other jewels, her fingers lingering on the lustrous cool spheres. Cool like the ocean.

  Catherine closed her eyes and tried to picture Alliana, that faraway island that would be her new home. Alliana with its high rock bluffs and scrub pines shaped by the sea winds had inlets big enough to hide brigand ships and treacherous shoals known only to pirates. She had studied maps of the island—as she had every region of the kingdom—and she knew its features well.

  Catherine opened her eyes with a nagging feeling that she was forgetting something.

  My onyx and silver pendant! Where is it? I must show Sir Gavin that I’ve found it. Catherine pawed through the treasures in the vault, moving aside her father’s crown and her mother’s golden bracelets. There! A corner of the amulet at the bottom of a coffer caught her eye. She snaked her arm down and pinched the necklace between two of her fingers then raised it slowly so as not to drop it. It was the first piece of jewelry she had ever been given.

  Catherine lifted the silver chain up over her head. For some odd reason it always pained her mother and father to see her wear it, so the necklace stayed mostly in the vault, even though it wasn’t worth much. She brushed it with her fingertips and remembered her grandmother’s words. “It’s not what it’s made of that makes it valuable, Catherine,” she had said in her soothing voice. “It’s the love it represents and the fact that it has been handed down from grandmother to granddaughter over and over again. That is more love than can be felt in one lifetime.” Her grandmother’s name had been Catherine too.

  There was a sharp rapping on the vault door.

  “Miss Catherine, shall I assist you?” asked Sir Gavin through the door.

  “No, no. I’m fine,” she called out in a cheery voice. How easily I deceive him, she thought. How pathetic that it has come to this. That it must come to this.

  Catherine undid her robe, took off the velvet sash she had worn underneath, and wrapped her jewels inside it. She tied the bulging fabric around her waist, threw her robe back over her nightdress, and fastened it loosely.

  Sir Gavin’s eyes were drawn to the pendant, just as she had hoped. He looked worried.

  “I’ve been thinking. Your father wouldn’t want you to be wearing that, miss. Put it back soon, won’t you?”

  She nodded and smiled. On a whim she stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. He was a faithful and true friend.

  Sir Gavin’s eyes twinkled and Catherine guessed that somewhere under the mustache he was smiling. Kevin blushed and managed to stutter, “Good-goodnight, Miss Catherine.”

  “Goodnight, Kevin. Goodnight, Sir Gavin.” She turned so they would not see the tears filling her eyes. Good-bye.

  In the dining hall Wolfy nudged her again, his tail wagging. She steeled her heart and pushed right past him. She didn’t turn to see him looking after her—there was no room in her plan for second thoughts.

  Back in her bedchamber, she tore off her robe and tugged open the knot of the sash. She pulled off her nightdress and threw on the boy’s clothes that she had hidden in the base of her carved canopy bed. The talisman dangled loosely around her neck. She tucked it inside her shirt then wrapped the jewels back around her waist and put on a loose-fitting jacket that hung just below her hips. She stuffed her hair into the hat and turned up her collar.

  Catherine looked hard in the small, silvered glass mirror. In spite of a few waves and bubbles in the glass, it was a good reflector and had cost her father a small fortune. She had her father’s profile—her nose had that distinct Tabrekian arch that she shared with both her father and her grandmother, who had been a full-blooded Tabrekian princess. Tabrek bordered Crystallia on the north.


  She belted on her dagger, gathered the sack of food and water skin, and crept downstairs through the blackness until she reached the kitchen. She lifted the heavy latch of the kitchen window and looked down. She jumped, the weight of the jewels jarring noisily against her hips as she landed in a crouch. She listened to the sounds of the night. Her breath came out in puffs of fog.

  Catherine darted across the moonlit courtyard into the stables. In the darkness of the passage outside the stalls, a white horse threw his head back in alarm.

  “Charger, do you not know your mistress?” she whispered. He snuffled her shoulder. Catherine pulled an apple out of her food bag and gave it to him, her throat so tight it hurt. “You belong here and not in some strange stable. Besides, you’re too noticeable.” She wrenched herself away as he chomped contentedly.

  The ordinary sorrel mare two stalls down would do. She saddled the horse and hoisted herself up. Catherine kept the mare at a walk so that its hooves settled quietly onto the cold ground, but still she felt the eyes of the guards following her figure in the night. The reins were moist with the sweat of her hands as she guided the horse to the gate that led to the Portsland Trail.

  “What’s your business, lad?” demanded one of the guards.

  “Cook hasn’t got enough spices. Plenty of temper, though. Wants me back within the week and I’ve got to go all the way to Alliana. Inhuman,” Catherine said, her hands clenching the reins.

  The guards laughed and passed her through. She headed down the forest trail that led toward the sea. In minutes she was out of sight from the castle.

  Catherine shivered as much from nerves as cold. It didn’t feel real to be leaving Crystallia. But I have to leave. Against her will, her eyes were drawn to the distant glow in the west. It was the flames of Candlewax Wood that made the sky glow like that.

  She felt dizzy. She was supposed to meet the Candlewax king for the first time at a feast in his honor in two weeks. Careful preparations had already begun, but these did not include consulting her. Bah! It didn’t matter now. She would be far away in Alliana by then. She resolved that if she ever married, she would choose a man she loved and not some stranger. She remembered overhearing her chambermaid Clara saying that the Candlewax king’s eyes were like red burning coals and that his heart was as black as charred wood. What had she said? Only a black-hearted monster could rule amidst that burning inferno?