Mira froze, the hairs on the back of her neck standing straight out. She looked closely around the room for the owner of the voice but didn’t see anything right away. She kept her body behind the wall next to the door and only peeked in. I raised my shield and stood to Mira’s side, ready to protect her when the attack came.

  Trying to get a fix on the speaker, Mira said, “Are you sure?”

  “Of course, I’m sure. You’ve already passed through my little funhouse,” the owner of the creepy little voice said. “Come in, please. All five of you,” the speaker added with emphasis on the word “five.”

  “Are you sure you don’t feel evil here?” I asked Bran in a low voice.

  “No, not a bit,” Bran said.

  Aware that my appearance was anything but friendly, I extinguished my mace and put it on its belt loop and kept my shield at my side, both close at hand, but not actually readied. I didn’t want to look hostile, but I wasn’t willing to trust the voice completely. I slowly walked into the room first. The others followed a little more slowly. I could sense magic in the room, but it was everywhere. It was like walking into a swarm of bees. The potential for danger was everywhere, but if you stayed still and calm, maybe the bees wouldn’t sting you.

  “Greetings,” I said. “I’d say we don’t mean to intrude, but that wouldn’t actually be true.”

  The voice chuckled. “You know, I wasn’t sure if I was going to dispose of you or not, but now I’m grateful I didn’t. I’ve been absolutely starved for company. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable.”

  The owner of the voice appeared from behind a shimmering in the air. Looking at us from a cozy leather chair with very low legs was the corpse of a Seeker with unsettling green points of light in its empty eye sockets. It was wearing tattered clothing that didn’t have a discernible color anymore but appeared to have been a white shirt and dark pants with knee high leather boots. There was a noticeable pile of dust around the corpse’s feet and in the chair. The corpse gestured at some chairs and a sofa that were facing it. Small pieces of his sleeve and the flesh beneath withered to dust and fell off as he did so. Despite its reassurances, none of us moved to sit down.

  “I know I must look a fright, but I assure you, I have no intention of killing you now. Please. Make yourselves comfortable,” said the corpse.

  Cautiously, I moved to a big chair in front of the corpse and had a better look. The others followed a bit more slowly, but we were all still on edge. I was wondering what other magical powers the undead Seeker had, and how I might defend myself in case he was a liar. I’d never met a friendly corpse, after all. I made sure I had plenty of magic readied, and prepared to hurl an arrow of fire, just in case.

  “You’re in no danger here. Not from me, anyway. But where are my manners? I’m your humble host, the Bane of Ithion, the Scourge of the Shining Sea, the Flyspeck Nuisance, the Dread Pirate King!” He finished with an outstretched arm pointing up in the air, and the shirt, skin, and desiccated muscle fell off in a cloud of dust that settled in his chair. “Oh, bugger. I stayed still for centuries to keep that from happening, and suddenly I forget myself the first time I have company.” He looked at the bones of his right arm and would have sighed if he had lungs. “You can call me Chuck,” he said nonchalantly.

  “Uh, well met, Chuck,” I said. “I’m Jeron, this is my brother Bran, that’s Elle, that’s Mira, and that’s Bandit on Mira’s shoulder. Pleased to mee you.”

  “Pleased to meet you, too. So pleased. Pleased as punch!” the Pirate King said happily. “I’d get you some refreshments, but I’m all out at the moment. I’m sure you understand.”

  “We’re not offended, sir,” I said. “I, for one, am just glad you’re not attacking us.”

  “I’m in a good mood, son. Sure, you can’t tell I’m smiling if I have no lips, but I’m trying to communicate friendliness in my speech. I know our meeting is a bit unconventional, but let’s try to start off on the right foot.” He gestured at the chairs and sofas. “Please make yourselves comfortable.” The way he said that indicated it wasn’t really a suggestion. It was definitely an order.

  The last thing in the world I wanted to do was to insult an undead wizard on his home turf. I took off my helm and sat down in the armchair directly in across from the Pirate King. The others glanced at each other. Once Bran decided to relax, Elle and Mira followed suit. Bandit was nowhere to be seen. I decided to try a trick Dortham used on his customers. Flattery. The bigger the ego, the more people were willing to pay for it.

  “You’ve been a hero of mine since childhood, you know. I’ve read all about your adventures on the high seas in your ship, the Unseen Blade.”

  “That’s very flattering, Jeron. I didn’t write anything about any of my adventures, as a written record of piracy would be pretty damning in court, so I question just what you’ve read. It sounds exciting, though. Thank you,” the Pirate King said. His frivolity died when he changed the subject. “You five must be very resourceful to have gotten past all my traps unscathed. Are you here for my treasure?”

  I considered telling a lie but couldn’t bring myself to do it. “Um. Well, yes, that’s why we’re here.” I rushed to fill in the details, hoping to keep this civil. “You see, a huge army of ogres and goblins from Grunbar is marching towards our home of Stonekeep, led by a villain named Kromwell, and he intends to do his worst once he gets there. Since we thought you were dead and had no need of money, but we needed money to hire mercenaries, we didn’t think anyone would mind if we found the long-lost treasure hoard and put it to good use.” The Pirate King showed no reaction to what I’d said so far. There was absolutely no change in his demeanor, nor did he even flinch. Well, I was talking to a corpse, after all, so maybe I shouldn’t have been so unnerved. I hurriedly went into the rest of it. “We’ve made a mess of our journey, though, wrecking our ship on the rocks. Now we’re stuck here, but we aren’t quite ready to give up yet. I was hoping you’d decide to help us, considering all the good you did for decent people back then.”

  The Pirate King regarded me for a minute or two without speaking. I had enough time to wonder if his spirit finally left his body, so bored by my tale, that hell was preferable to hearing one more syllable.

  “At the end, I didn’t do much good for goodly people,” Chuck finally said. “I just did bad things to bad people. But I think we can help each other. You see, I‘ve been here since shortly after the Breaking, trapped in this hellish undeath. The power of the curse keeps my soul trapped here in this body that will never fully decay. Though I’m too strong of will to be commanded by the necromantic focus on this island, I can’t act against it, either, so I’m stuck here, too. Perhaps there’s a way we can help each other, though. I can provide a way off this island, plus I can give you everything I own, which is of considerable value. What I ask in return is that you five destroy the necromantic focus responsible for Ithion’s death curse. If you’re successful, my spirit will be freed, and you’ll have what you need. What say you?”

  I was still thinking about it when Bran spoke up. “Uh, Chuck, I’m sure you’ve noticed that I have the holy sword, Vengeance, here.” He gestured at the sheathed sword, careful not to make any threatening moves. “What if I were to just whack you with that and destroy you? It reduced the other undead to glowing sparks.”

  The Pirate King considered that for a brief moment. “The problem is that I don’t know how the necromantic focus works exactly. Would killing me with Vengeance free my soul from the curse, or would my soul just end up trapped inside the focus for all eternity? I’m really not willing to take the chance when my soul’s at stake. The safer bet is to destroy the focus, which I’m now certain you have the ability to do.”

  Bran didn’t need time to consider. “Well, then, of course, I’ll help. This curse is an abomination, and a lot of souls are trapped by it. Speaking for my friends, I’m sure any of us would’ve helped you without your mention of a reward.” We all nodded.

  “I had the feeling I could trust you with this,” the Pirate King said in his chilling voice. His tone was warm, but the sound of his voice still raised goosebumps.

  “Where’s the focus, and what does it look like?” Bran asked.

  “I’ve never seen the focus, though I suspect you’ll know it when you see it. It’ll be made of some sort of black stone, probably obsidian, and it’ll reek of evil magic. It’s on the west side of the island, probably in a cave, since sunlight weakens it. It’s impervious to a lot of things, but the sword you carry will destroy it for certain. You should also know that Ithion sent some nameless necromantic apprentice of his to do his dirty work. He valued his own skin too much to risk being caught by his own curse, so he probably sent his most expendable apprentice. Regardless of how competent that person was in life, they have a staff of Ithion’s making, and that thing is no joke. Please be careful. Also, my former lieutenant, Talros, will, unfortunately, be guarding the focus. He was a very strong warrior in life, and I’d given him a magical shield that he still carries. When it blocks an attack, it can reflect the damage of the attack back at its origin. That includes weapon strikes, spells, and projectiles. You’d do well to consider how you’ll defeat them before you face them.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “We’ll give it some thought. If you don’t mind my asking, Chuck, how did you get here? I understand it was very hard to surprise you.”

  “You’re right about that. I am very devious. I was outmaneuvered, you see. Ithion sent the apprentice to the island in secret, protected by magic, and set up the focus. Then he sent a huge number of mercenaries here. They killed most of my people in a sneak attack. I hit their camp in a surprise raid and my T.U.R.D.s killed them by the dozens, but they all kept getting back up to fight again. It was terrible. Friend or foe, anyone that died became an undead thrall under the necromancer’s command. We couldn’t win. I retreated to my villa, then snuck my guardians down here. The necromancer tore my house to pieces. He would have found my secret lair, too, but I ambushed him. In the fight, we killed each other, and both our fates were sealed,” the Pirate King recounted.

  “And you’ve been here ever since? In that chair?” I asked.

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  “Mostly. So what? It hasn’t been that long, has it?” the Pirate King asked.

  “The Breaking happened about one thousand, two hundred and twenty years ago,” I replied.

  “It can’t be…” The Pirate King said softly. He was silent for a long moment, thinking. “I seem to have lost track of time. No wonder I look like this.” He was silent for another long moment. “The Breaking. That was a terrible time.”

  “You were alive when the Breaking happened?” I asked, unable to contain my curiosity. “The stories never mentioned that. What really happened?”

  The Pirate King collected his thoughts. “The time before the Breaking was a golden age. We existed on this planet for millennia in peace. We had the High Magi, a group of sorcerers who served the people under their care along with the Priesthood. Between the High Magi and the Priesthood, everyone had what they needed to live a quiet, peaceful life, free of disease and suffering. Unless some accident took a life quickly, even the most grievous wounds could be healed in an instant, and humans like you lived for two hundred years on average. It was a very blessed time.

  “Then the Crix came. Oh, that wasn’t the real name of their race, but since they never tried to communicate with us, and because they looked a lot like crickets, that’s the name that stuck. One day, out of a clear blue sky, an object that looked like an axe head appeared in the heavens and slammed into our planet with incredible force. It forced its way into the crust of our planet and seemed to be trying to reach the core.”

  “Excuse me, but what’s a planet?” I interjected.

  “A planet is the gigantic, round, ball of rock that we all lived on. It spun its way through the cosmos and revolved around the sun,” the Pirate King said. “Didn’t you ever wonder what the Breaking broke?”

  “You mean Aldon wasn’t always flat? And the sun didn’t revolve around us?” I asked.

  “Of course not. Aldon was a perfect creation of God. It didn’t need a crystal sphere around it to keep it together. The High Magi had to build that to fix a terrible problem. I’ll get to that later. Where was I?” The Pirate King asked. “Oh, yes, the Crix worldship slammed into our planet, ruining our orbit, breaking apart land masses, and killing millions of people, all so that they could get to our planet’s core. You see, that’s where our worldstone was, which they wanted badly. We found out later that the Crix lived among the stars like a swarm of locusts, pillaging and destroying planets, taking the power of their worldstones, then moving on to the next. Our worldstone, which we call the Icosahedron, was a very strong one, stronger than the worldstone that powered the Crix worldship.

  “The High Magi banded together in a conjuration chamber and invoked the Icosahedron to defend itself, pushing against the Crix worldship. At first, no progress was made, but the Crix worldship couldn’t reach our core, either. A terrible war started as the Crix came pouring out of their worldship, bent on destroying every sentient life on Aldon. They were a plague of death that put entire kingdoms to the sword, and still they marched on.

  “The High Magi and the Priesthood were pacifists, you see, and they didn’t know how to fight. Well, all but one. Mordon, whose talents centered around elemental magic, was a natural at it, and in the millennia that he lived, he’d achieved a mastery that was spectacular to behold. Terrible, but spectacular. He taught the rest how to fight and became the natural leader of the Confederacy of the humans, Arboreans, Terrans and Seekers of Aldon. Many of the High Magi were needed in the conjuration chamber to keep the planet together, so it was up to Mordon, Ismaera, and their sons to lead the armies we had to train up. The dragons were a great help, too. I still don’t know where they came from, but whatever. Without them, we’d have been swept away.

  “That’s where I came into the picture. You see, I was a wizard that specialized in illusion magic, but I also knew how to build the farming golems we all used. B.U.M.M.s, they were called. And yes, the acronym is a joke. They were still in use the last time I knew, too. When the Crix came, Mordon commissioned me and my peers to start making T.U.R.D.s, but in a much more resilient form. So that’s what we did. We made thousands of them, and they were so tough that the Crix couldn’t destroy them as fast as we could build and repair them. The tides of the war started to shift, and we pushed the Crix back. The Crix responded by taking some of our native creatures and making them a thousand times worse. They then turned the monsters loose to wreak havoc. Some of those creations were the Xerith, shapeshifting assassins, whom they sent to kill off the Priesthood and the High Magi one at a time. They were really good at it, too, so Mordon and his sons built a castle around the conjuration chamber to protect the High Magi and link our lands together with portals to move armies quickly. That place became known as Stonekeep, and probably still exists.”

  “That’s where we’re from,” I mentioned. “Wait a minute. Did you say Ismaera was Mordon’s wife?”

  “Yes, she was. Why do you ask?” the Pirate King asked.

  “Because my mother, well, Bran’s mother, who adopted me gave me a crystal scroll case with a letter in it from my birth mother, whose name was Ismaera. Was that a common name?” I asked.

  “Not so common, no,” the Pirate King said. “You know, you look a lot like Mordon, now that I think about it. Very interesting. Are you a sorcerer, by chance?”

  He seemed like a trustworthy guy, and it was pretty unlikely that he’d tell anyone in authority in Mithram, so I told the truth. Not that I’d lie, but I always found deception by omission perfectly acceptable. “Yeah, but not a very good one, I think.”

  “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” the Pirate King asked.

  “Well, I don’t have anyone to teach me anything and being a sorcerer’s illegal everywhere in the known world, so I’ve been hiding for as long as I’ve had powers. Makes it a little hard to practice, you know.”

  “Yeah, I can imagine.”

  “Say, you wouldn’t be able to teach me anything useful for our current situation, would you?”

  “Not so much, my boy. Sorry. You see, wizards do things much differently than sorcerers do. We don’t have the direct connection to the magic that you have, nor can we see the flows of the magic like you can. We have to use physical objects and the performance of gestures and words to evoke a magical effect. I really don’t know why. Personally, I think there’s a guardian of magic who likes to make us act like fools for his own amusement before doling out some miserly bit of magic. Anyway, it sure beats the kind of pain you go through.”

  “Pain?” Bran and Elle asked at the same moment.

  “Yeah. Pain. He’s never mentioned it?”

  “No, he hasn’t,” Elle said with a very concerned look on her face. She hated to see any creature in pain. That empathy was a large part of what made her such a good friend.

  “I didn’t want mom to worry,” I said.

  “And dad would have booted your backside if she found out,” Bran said.

  “Yeah, that may’ve been the real reason,” I said, grinning ruefully.

  “Huh. Well, with the way your eyes are so bloodshot, you must have used a lot of magic today,” the Pirate King said.

  I nodded. It was a lot. More than I’ve ever used in one day. I had a splitting headache, and every part of me felt like splinters of wood were sticking into me. Kind of like that feeling you get when you sleep on your arm the wrong way and then you wake up and you can’t move it, but worse. A lot worse.

  “The rest of you should pick a good book. When he finally does go to bed, he’s not waking up for a while.”

  “I should just give him dad’s old-fashioned headache cure,” Bran said.

  “What’s that?” Chuck prompted.

  “He’d kick you in the butt so hard you forgot all about your headache.”

  That made the Pirate King laugh. He had a very infectious laugh, and we all had a chuckle at Bran’s joke, but I think some of us laughed harder at the way Chuck laughed. It really broke the tension, and I think we all needed that.

  “Yeah, I think I’d get along pretty well with your dad. Sounds like quite the character. Anyway,” the Pirate King continued, “as the Adamantine Legion, the armies of the Confederacy, and the dragons fought the Crix invasion, the High Magi started to make progress in pushing their worldship out of our planet. Mordon and his sons added their power to the push against the worldship, and together, they thrust it away from us and into the only thing the High Magi thought would destroy it once and for all. Our sun. It was unforeseen that the destruction of their worldstone would also kill our sun, but that’s what happened. We were all shocked and horrified, and in the fading light, the remaining High Magi discussed what to do next.

  “The plan they came up with involved Breaking the planet the rest of the way into pieces, and making smaller, artificial worlds out of each piece. This they did twenty-one times. With the power of the Icosahedron, the High Magi made crystal spheres to encompass each world, used pieces of the sun and moon to reproduce those celestial bodies and to have them revolve around each world, and then set each world into a place in the old planet’s orbit around our now darkened sun.

  “At the end of this process, Stonekeep became the nexus of portals to each world. The portal to the Icosahedron itself is deep within Stonekeep as well. It occurs to me that the reason this Kromwell fiend is marching on Stonekeep isn’t just so that he can kill or enslave everyone, but so that he can control the Icosahedron itself, the source of all magic, and the thing that keeps the twenty-one worlds functioning. He may be a stooge, as I gather from your expression, but even if he doesn’t know about the Icosahedron, then the power behind him certainly does,” the Pirate King concluded.

  That was a very sobering thought. “Kromwell was just a bully the last time we met. He couldn’t have arranged all this himself. You’re probably right. There must be a very powerful person behind him somewhere, like maybe Garog of Grunbar or King Karnas of Fellton,” I said.

  “Our quest is more important than we thought,” Bran said.

  “Uh, Chuck? Whatever happened to Mordon and Ismaera, anyway?” I asked.

  “The effort required of the High Magi to stabilize our worlds was incredible. Mordon retired to his chambers in Stonekeep and slept as Ismaera finished off the Crix in this world with the Adamantine Legion. The other High Magi, including Mordon and Ismaera’s children, grew divisive without Mordon’s leadership and retired to their own strongholds in the other spheres of the Icosahedron. Mordon was still sleeping there when Ithion did his dirty work here. Surely, he’s not still asleep after all this time, though. Where he is and what he’s doing I have no idea,” the Pirate King said. “Have you ever been in Stonekeep Castle?”

  “Yes, sir, we have,” I replied. “The portals will open for me.”

  “But you didn’t see Mordon there?” the Pirate King asked.

  “No, sir. The place was deserted,” I said.

  “Very interesting, indeed,” the Pirate King said. “You see, I used to live in Stonekeep. We made the Adamantine Legion there, and I remember all the passkeys for the most sensitive places. I also used to be favored among the wizards there because of my mastery of illusion. The children of certain High Magi, specifically Mordon and Ismaera, loved when I would tell stories and embellish them with illusions of the action, and I was trusted with the passkeys for even Mordon’s personal suite. I know the command words for the golems, and I know how to coordinate them in battle because I was instrumental in making them. Mordon created a helm that allowed the wearer to command the defenses of Stonekeep and the Legion. He kept it in his private quarters under guard. By using the helm with the Throne, you can certainly destroy any attacking force.”

  “We really need to know those command words, Chuck,” I said.

  “Yes, I know. And I really need to be set free of this curse,” the Pirate King said. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll write down what you need to know in notebooks and put them in a secret place close to me while you destroy the necromantic focus. If you fail, no one will be able to take that information from your undead minds. If you succeed, I’ll be freed, and you’ll get what you need.”

  We all thought about it, and we shrugged or nodded to each other. “Fair enough,” I said.

  “You guys look like dog toys,” the Pirate King said. He pointed to the door that would have been on the right when we walked into the room. “You’ll find four guest rooms there. The door opposite the guest rooms has a great hall and kitchens should you need to cook anything. The remaining door leads to other areas of my abode. You should avoid going through that door and especially avoid going down the stairs unless you wish to experience a most painful death. Any questions?”

  “We’ll figure it out,” I said.

  “Good night,” he said cheerfully.

  The Pirate King crossed his legs and levitated out of his chair, then flew through the door opposite where we came in, presumably to go to his quarters. A trail of dust fell to the floor behind him as he flew. The five of us looked at each other blankly for a moment, absorbing what just transpired.

  “That went well,” Mira said.

  “Yay! We may not be stuck here after all,” Bandit said cheerfully.

  “Let’s get our supplies into the great hall and get some grub,” Bran said wearily. “I’m starving.”