Ivan

Ivan

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Prologue

As Nesesvance mounted the ravine that opened up into Néorn Valley, her heart leapt into her throat. The valley spoke its name in a mournful cry that rang out over the land. Dirt hills sloped down into the heart where geysers bubbled and spat out blistering steam shrouded with the stench of carcasses.

Gnarled trees, charred and dead from the heat, frowned over the terrain, home to gore crows who echoed the valley's constant call of despair. A veil of fog draped everything in silver cotton, hiding what Nesesvance knew were the skeletons of those susceptible to the geysers' wrath.

The mist brushed her face, sending chills down her spine, and the air tasted bitter and dry.

Death was written over every rock; it seemed as though life and soul had been sucked out of the valley. The ground trembled, and another geyser shot out a train of sweltering water. Nesesvance shivered, her stomach a cold pit. Here the lamentations of the dead and the spirits of the living converged. Joy was irrelevant, life eradicated, and death sovereign of the world.

"How can this place possibly save my father?" Nesesvance demanded to her top doctors, who tended to the gasping body of the king who lay across a rolling stretcher.

One of the three sorcerers spoke from behind. "It is not the terrain, my dear princess, but Starlit Pond."

"How far is it from here?" Nesesvance asked, her breath fogging as she spoke.

The other two sorcerers shifted uneasily. "Two miles." one said.

Nesesvance gasped. "Two miles? You can't be serious! We'll never make it in time! The king will…." She broke off, the word catching in her throat, and there was a long silence before the third sorcerer said, "We can try."

Nesesvance's eyes glistened with the tears she had tried to fight for so long. "I fear this will not work." But she motioned for the party to continue through the rough terrain, and by the time they had cleared the first two hills and dodged two furious geysers, the king had only gotten worse, and the doctors could barely sustain his life. According to the sorcerers, they still had most of a mile to traverse, and the next valley was a minefield of geysers. A wrong step, and they would all be fried.

"We can't go on any further." The doctors were irately objecting, "The king won't last another eight minutes, and we need an hour."

Nesesvance glared around furiously at her subjects. "Can't any of you do anything?" she demanded. "I have my best doctors and sorcerers here, and none of you can revive my father?" she pointed at the sorcerers. "Can't you work magic on this man?"

The men looked around at each other desperately. "To do so would take all three of our lives in order to muster enough energy. This is a deadly poison, your majesty. Would it be worth killing three to save one?"

Nesesvance swore. "This is the king!" she spat. "It would be honorable to give your lives for one so great."

"Your highness," one of the doctors pointed out, "if we were to lose our magicians, we would have no protection against outsiders on our way back."

Nesesvance considered this with remorse, and finally sighed. "My physicians, you will do your best to save my father. My magicians, you will help them by any means other than death."

"Yes, your majesty." They chorused.

Nesesvance watched the stars in silence under the shade of a great ebony oak while her subjects worked their skills. After several minutes, one of the doctors touched Nesesvance lightly on the shoulder. "My queen, we shall have to put King D'neio to rest to cease his suffering."

"You cannot revive him?"

"No, my queen."

"Then do it."

"Do you not want to see his face one last time?"

Nesesvance paused for a long moment, and then repeated coldly, "Do it."

After a minute, the doctor returned, his face streaked with tears. "Princess Nesesvance… you are now Queen and Sovereign over Deirusia.

Chapter 1

"IVAN!"

Ivan jumped, his heart racing in his chest. Hurriedly he picked up the parchment and quills he had just scattered across the floor.

"IVAN!"

Ivan shoved everything under his straw bed and descended the ladder from the loft. He traced Sir's bark to the kitchen where the man stood over the table holding an array of scrolls packed with Ivan's scribbled handwriting. He had just awoken, by the look of it, for his black hair was uncombed and he wore his nightgown under a thick gray sweater.

"What is the meaning of this?" Sir demanded, pointing a shaky finger at Ivan, who stared at the papers, cursing himself within his mind for forgetting to hide his stories before Sir awoke. "Well speak, boy! I didn't take you in after your parents abandoned you just so I could be tricked into having things hidden from me my whole bloody life!"