Ordinary Joe and the Mark of Four
Chapter Twenty Six

Kinga and Petraya carried Joe for most of the journey to the mine dwellers city, though this time there was no pain in his body; he was simply too tired to walk. He remembered flashes of the winding path through the tunnels and the towering white buildings which seemed to be carved from bone, but by the time they lay him on a small, soft bed, his eyelids were so heavy he could barely lift them at all. Someone covered him over with thick, woollen blankets, and soon he fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

No voice entered his dreams and a soothing warmth replaced the tight pain in his chest. He imagined he was in a small, warm room with walls of white bone lit by the soft glow of pale blue Majia. Across from his bed a small fire burned with flickering golden flames, and cast the room in dancing orange shadows. For once he felt safe; like he was home.

His father sat beside him, though he did not speak, and Joe drew the blankets tight, watching the man he had never really met.

“You’re dead,” Joe said, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” his father answered in a soft, sad voice. Sometimes he would stand and walk around the room; but mostly he remained in his seat, watching Joe with concerned eyes.

“Who was she?” he asked, “The woman who killed you?”

“Her name was Jiila Forez. She was an assassin sent by your brother.” The King’s face betrayed no emotion but Joe doubted he felt nothing about his son’s betrayal. Avarat would stop at nothing to take the Majiak; even kill his own father.

“I knew what she was,” the King said and smiled at Joe’s shocked expression, “She fought an elder witch named Matrekku; a formidable creature, driven mad by loneliness, but a dangerous opponent for anyone. Jiila did not suffer even a scratch, though when we first met she saved my life, and took an ugly wound to do it, against a man not a tenth as dangerous as the witch.” Joe understood; she took the wound on purpose, to make his father trust her.

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“It had to be this way,” the King sighed, “Matrekku told me I must die and not die. The Prophecy pointed to the dead mines, a place where the Majia is free.” He looked away from Joe and shook his head softly, “The words have many meanings. They spoke of a child’s exile, and I believed without question.” His voice lowered, barely a whisper, “I’m not sure now. Perhaps it is best we choose our own paths. If the future is set, we cannot change it. Prophecy can blind as much as it aids us.”

Joe had the dream many times. In some the King brought him food and they sat and ate together. His father told him stories of Antigol, and of his own father, Treyd Caldor, who held the Majiak before him. They talked of Kozane and Maven, and the secret gate kept open to Earth by the House of Caldor in the centuries since the Parting.

One night he told Joe how Maven watched Earth grow, fascinated by the world, and how he kept Joe safe, returning to Hatriila with stories for Caldor and the Queen.

“I am sorry we sent you away,” his Father said, “I should have found another way.”

“Avarat told me my mother was with him,” Joe said, but the King snorted angrily,

“Not by choice,” he muttered.

“Maybe he’ll let her go, now that I’ve beaten him.” The King’s face darkened,

“Your brother will hold her prisoner until he has her blessing, but she will never give it. He will never harm her, his quarrels are with me, but do not think your brother will give up the chase easily. He is beaten but already licks his wounds, dreaming of ways to take the Majiak from you. He will regroup. The council will not venture into the Wastelands, but he has other powerful allies. When they hear what has happened here I doubt they will enter the mines, but it is not certain. Since you refuse to give him the Majiak, his only option is to kill you and hope it returns to the others. It is not safe for you in Antigol anymore.”

The dream faded again and Joe smiled to himself. When had Antigol ever been safe?

When he finally woke, Joe found himself in the room from his dreams. Reece was lying across the floor in front of the fire, snoring loudly, and Kinga was by his bed, biting her nails and muttering to herself. When he turned and smiled she leapt from her seat and punched him sharply in the arm. Tiny sparks of Majia traced her skin and though she scowled he could see she was happy he was wake,

“Could have died! Idiota!” she spat, but hugged him anyway before stalking out of the room. Reece sat up, yawning, and grinned at their departing friend,

“She’s a bit of a nutter isn’t she,” he said. He seemed like his old self and told Joe about the ‘Dead Miners’ vast city, words spilling out of his mouth so fast Joe could barely keep up with him. He showed Joe a gold ring he stole from the Scavenger King, and though he laughed when Reece told him what it did, he almost fell out of the bed in shock when his friend suddenly vanished in thin air and reappeared beside his bed.

“How cool is that!” Reece said, “The next time my dad tries to whack me, I’ll just use the ring and I’m gone! Get behind him and kick him up the backside.”

Kinga returned with Maven, who bustled into the room rubbing his hands together excitedly and ruffled Joe’s hair,

“He’s awake! Good, good. Right the rest of you, out.” Kinga frowned, probably wishing she had waited to fetch the Warlock, but grabbed Reece’s hand and led him from the room. Maven dropped into the chair beside Joe’s bed and grinned at him,

“What a week!” he said, “Feeling any better since your death?” He fished in his pockets and pulled out a crumpled white bag of liquorish wheels, unspooling one into his mouth. He offered the bag to Joe and soon they were spooling together.

“I had a dream,” Joe said.

“Oh yes?”

“I was talking to the King.” He wanted to say ‘Dad’ but the word still felt strange to say out loud. Maven sucked the liquorish into his mouth,

“Well, about that,” he said, “I think there’s something you should know. Your father chose this place for a reason. The dead mines are a little peculiar. Majia does not behave as it should.” He started another spool before continuing, “A long time ago, Tollik’s people were once human like me and you, but they perished in the mines.” Joe frowned. If they died, how were they still walking around? His father’s words echoed back to him - Matrekku told me I must die and not die, in the place where the Majia is free.

“They’re dead?” he said. Maven nodded, then shook his head,

“Well, yes and no, no-one can die in the mines; the Majia keeps them alive. But they cannot leave. One foot outside the caves and they’re dust.” Joe almost choked on his liquorish,

“But I died!” He couldn’t bear the thought of it; trapped in the same place forever. He’d never see Cardenfield again, or the Forests of Junn, or visit Petraya’s house in the Wastelands…

“Oh, you didn’t really die,” Maven said with a chuckle, “The Majiak wouldn’t let you. I wasn’t actually talking about you. I was talking about someone who has been by this bedside for almost a week; and only left because I forced him. Even the living dead should sleep.”

Then the door burst open and the King hurried in. He looked tired, but his eyes smiled and he stepped forward, scooping Joe from the bed and hugging him tight. It seemed he might never let go.

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