The Will of Lyra Antoinette

By Michael Weisz

My mother is dying. My heart along with her.

Each day, I see her getting weaker. All I can do is watch.

We only have so much time. And no matter how much, it's never enough.

I love her. And I know she loves me. That's enough.

He'll be coming for me. I feel it. I know it. He waits for moments like these. Moment

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Weisz
• Release date: Jun 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781087901213

Michael Weisz

Michael Weisz grew up in orchard country of the Pacific Northwest. He began his career working in film production writing screenplays and has since furthered that passion into novels.

Book preview

I.

HOME

LINE2

The hot sun rose over Morningly.

Lyra Antoinette hurried to the pasture. It had been a tough night. One more in long line of them. She wore a plain white dress. Strands of her golden-brown hair dangled down her angular cheeks.

Gathering some feed for her horse, she at once took it to her. Famished, Palluma slurped it out of her hands. Her coat was all black save for a small patch of white on her forehead. To Lyra, it was an endearing trait.

The food all gone, Lyra picked up a brush and smoothed her coat. Her dress was already sticking to her. She felt uneasy.

Stepping up onto the worn, creaky porch of her house, she caught an earful of her mother coughing inside. Her pace quickened. She darted through the door.

Mama! she called out.

Hearing more coughing, she rushed to the kitchen, took a glass and filled it with water, and then headed to her mother’s room. She found her there, sitting on the edge of her bed. She held the glass to her lips. Her mother took a sip. Her cough subsided.

Thank you, her mother said. I don’t know what got into me.

It’s okay now, Lyra replied. It’s beautiful out. I was feeding Palluma.

That’s good, baby.

Her mother looked at her with pride. Then the coughing kicked in again.

Lyra tried to comfort her the best she could. She gave her another sip.

Again, she overcame it.

We need to get you back to the doctor, Lyra said.

No, no! her mother shot back. I’m fine. Right as rain.

Lyra gave her a look of disbelief.

It will pass, her mother further tried to console her. It always does. What I need is to get dressed and then go make some breakfast with my daughter. She forced a smile. Crispy potatoes, some eggs…

Biscuits with raspberry swirl, Lyra added, smiling back. I’ll get it started.

I’ll be there soon.

Lyra hopped up and went to the kitchen.

Her mother did her best to hold back yet another bout. She felt it deep within her chest.

Hold on, she thought. I’ve made it through much worse than this.

The potatoes and eggs were frying. Lyra kept a close watch on them out of the corner of her eye as she kneaded the biscuits.

Her mother walked in. Her golden-brown hair was pulled back tight into a ponytail. She wore a blue dress. It was Lyra’s favorite of hers. Having noticed the eggs and potatoes needing some attention, she rushed over and gave them some.

Auren came by yesterday, her mother mentioned, trying to be casual about it. While you were at the store.

Oh yeah, Lyra replied. What did he have to say?

Just checking in. See if we needed any help.

Seems to me we get along just fine.

Oh, Lyra! He’s a nice boy.

"He is. But we can make it just fine. We always have. Since daddy died."

…I guess so.

Her mother pulled the eggs and potatoes from the stove.

Lyra had done all she could with the biscuits. They had been placed in the oven to do the rest.

Her mother looked out the kitchen window. Saw Palluma out in the pasture. The little town beyond had begun to bustle with life.

Lyra watched her mother. She saw in her the woman she wanted to become. One of grace. One of calm. One who stood her ground, unmoved in the face of life’s challenges.

That’s odd, her mother’s voice broke the contemplative mood.

What is it? Lyra asked her.

She went to the window and looked for herself. Across the way, she saw a coach of black and red drawn by two horses. It made its way through the town, and was now stopped at the house across the way from them.

They watched as the driver, a thin, frail-looking middle-aged man with strappy hair, stepped down and opened the carriage door. He stood there and discussed something with the passenger whom sat within. After a few minutes, the driver, visibly frustrated, walked over and stepped up to the porch of the house. He knocked on the door and waited.

The Orions, Lyra’s mother said. There’s only so many times you can put your hand to the fire. It catches up with you sooner or later.

She watched as Mr. Orion opened the door and the two exchanged some words. There appeared to be some sort of disagreement between them. However, it came to a quick end when Mr. Orion pointed to the house across the way. Lyra and her mother’s.

Lyra looked at her mother, confused.

The coachman returned to the coach, informed his passenger, and then climbed back up and directed the horses in the way of the Antoinettes.

Must be an official from the capital, her mother derived. We haven’t done anything amiss. Have we? she shot a sideways look at Lyra.

Nothing, Lyra replied. What could they want?

Well, it appears we’re about to find out, her mother stated.

The coach pulled up in front of their home. The driver stepped down and opened the door once again. Bleedus Knight, a tall and burly figure—consul to the King—stepped out. He wore a black uniform, perfectly pressed, with gold epaulettes and a crimson cord roped diagonally across his abdomen. A sheathed sword hung from a leather belt around his waist.

He strode over and stepped up onto the porch. His heavy boots made a loud thudding sound. His knock was strong and precise.

Let me handle this, Lyra’s mother said. Taking a deep breath, she went to open the door.

Is this the Antionette house? Bleedus asked.

Yes, Lyra’s mother answered.

You have a daughter?

What is this about?

Your daughter will to come with me, Bleedus commanded.

What! By who’s authority? she countered, taken aback. You tell me what this is about!

Bleedus hesitated a moment. He could not lose control over the situation. Not again.

She is to be trained as a Morgan, he stated.

A Morgan? How did this come about?

Enough! No more questions. Please get her for me.

You think you can just step up on my porch, ask to take my daughter from me, and expect that I will just hand her over?

Yes.

She gave him a hard slap across his face.

How dare you! she berated him. "That’s my baby. Show me some papers or something... Something official!"

Bleedus reached inside one pocket after another. But came up empty.

Abe′! he called to his coachman. Be of some use and bring me that decree!

Yes, sir, Abe′ responded and climbed up into the coach to search for it.

Frustrated, Bleedus grunted and looked around. He looked every which way he could except back into the eyes of the woman whose only child he was about to take away.

Why are you doing this? she asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. No response came.

Abe′ at last found the document. He brought it to Bleedus, whom wasted no time presenting it to her.

She quickly read it over. At the bottom, she saw the King’s signature. It could no longer be denied. This was real. Deep down, she knew this day would come. She just did not count on it happening so fast.

Not much for originality, are you? she said and the disappeared inside.

Bleedus just stood there.

You okay, boss? Abe′ asked from the coach.

Bleedus did not turn around. Did not respond. He stood his ground. He was still in control. In his head, he knew he was in control.

Her mother found Lyra in her room. She had packed some things in an old blue canvas bag.

What are you doing? she asked her.

Lyra looked at her, found her eyes.

We both know what will happen if I don’t go, she said.

Her mother knew what she meant. Everyone knew. For a long time now, she had harbored such a fear. But it paled in comparison to the pain she felt at this moment as she watched her only daughter being torn from her. She knew of nothing else to do but to race over and scoop her up in her arms, hoping somehow it would put an end to it.

Don’t do this, her mother pleaded. We could run away. You and me. Never look back.

Where would we go? Lyra asked. You know they won’t stop.

Her mother’s embrace grew tighter.

The biscuits are burning, Lyra said.

Let them burn, her mother replied.

Tears fell from her mother’s eyes.

Neither let go.

II.

JOURNEY

LINE2

They had travelled for hours. Lyra sat across from Bleedus. Her canvas bag in her lap. The interior of the carriage was garishly adorned with carved wood and lots of gold trimming. There was a small window beside Bleedus with a blood red curtain covering it. Every now and then, however, when the coach hit a dip in the road, the curtain would move just enough for Lyra to catch a glimpse outside. The last she saw it was dusk. Fear ebbed and flowed within her. It was the furthest she had been from her hometown. She glanced over at Bleedus. He was a brooding, disgusting figure. His skin was weathered and stretched tight over his angular face. A large bow-shaped scar was visible on his right cheek. His eyes were the color of fire. She had heard stories about him. About those eyes. How they could stare anyone into submission. And, if for some reason, they did not submit, he had other means. But she had elected not to inquire about those.

The coach dipped again. The curtain shifted. Lyra saw nothing. Only darkness. Night. She wondered how long they would be travelling and thought about asking but did not want to break the silence; the illusion of calm it created. Instead, she shifted her thoughts to becoming a Morgan. To be honest, she was not altogether familiar with what that entailed. What little she did know had seemed to her impressive. They were guardians of a sort for the King. A friend of hers had been taken to be trained just last year. At the very least she knew they were given a good education. Something she wanted. Something just out of reach for someone like her. But beyond that, Lyra did not know much about them. That both terrified and excited her.

Just then another dip. This one worse. Everything that could move did. Including Bleedus and Lyra. Just an inch or two for Bleedus. But Lyra, it gave her quite the jolt. And then nothing. Silence. The coach stopped moving.

Bleedus let out a grunt. The door opened. It was Abe′. He wore a heavy, black frock coat. His nose was as red as a raspberry from the cold.

…Boss! he heaved, out of breath. …We’ve broken a leg!

What? You imbecile! Bleedus shot back.

A wheel. Smashed to bits, sir.

Bleedus let out an even graver grunt.

Fine! he barked and turned to Lyra. Come on! We got some walking to do.

Sir, the nearest village is over a hundred horse paces away. And it’s as cold as ice out here, Abe′ posited.

I know, you fool! What of it?

Abe′ took the hint and refrained from saying anything further. Bleedus climbed out of the coach. He then turned and shot a look Lyra’s way. His emboldened eyes did all they to make darn sure Lyra followed. With her bag slung over her shoulder, she was a step ahead of him, already outside.

Um, now don’t you get any fancy ideas. Like running off, he directed at her, caught off guard. It would be most unwise.

She said nothing in return. Just accepted the advice for what it was worth. Nothing.

The cold wind chilled Lyra to the bone. Abe′ looked back and saw her shivering.

Here, he said, as he approached her. Take this. He took off his coat and wrapped it around her. Can’t have a kid like you freezing to death, can we? Especially now that the King has his sights on you.

Bleedus let out another garbled sound.

They kept walking. The coat had a strange pasture-like smell. But at least it was warm. Bleedus kept an eye on her. She could run. Go back home. Her and her mother always kept a fire going on nights like these.

How nice that would be! she thought. But it wouldn’t last. Not if this dolt had anything to say about it. After all, he had the ear of the King. No, I must keep going.

III.

FYRSTA

LINE2

Before they had reached the nearest village, adding insult to injury, a torrential rain had begun to pour. The dirt road was at once turned to mud. Each step taken was beyond laborious. At last, though, they came upon some oil lampposts somehow still burning. Following them, they led into a village.

Ah, Fyrsta! Abe′ let out in a burst of excitement. "I know this place quite well. Quite well."

Bleedus, to say the least, did not share Abe′s passion. He just stood and looked at the various inns and stables and bars, which lined up like rows of corn on each side of them.

This way, he at last blurted.

Bleedus’s uniform, which had seemed so regal earlier, had now been soiled by the wind and rain so badly it robbed him of any glory he had hoped to impart.

He led them to an inconspicuous little inn. Stepping into the entryway, they disappeared into a veil of darkness.

Stay here! Bleedus growled at them. And then went on inside.

Lyra stood there. She was too tired to be nervous or fearful or feel anything for that matter.

An innkeeper rose to his feet at the sight of Bleedus and offered a bow in deference.

What can I do for you, sir? he asked.

I need a room, Bleedus commanded. One with no disturbances.

Yes, sir. Right away. I’ll prepare the best!

That won’t be necessary, Bleedus retorted.

Please, the innkeeper leaned in and whispered: I know who you are.

Bleedus looked away in annoyance.

The innkeeper at once bustled off down a hallway. Bleedus grunted.

Some inordinate amount of time later, the innkeeper returned, a lit lantern in hand, and escorted them to a room at the end of the long hallway. He opened the door and motioned for Bleedus to enter. Bleedus took a step before he thought better of it and halted. He then motioned for the innkeeper to go first. Acquiescing, the innkeeper entered the dark room and lit some candles. Bleedus followed and looked it over in his gruff manner. There were two small plain beds against a wall and a bare table with a single chair against another.

This will do, he said with a complete lack of satisfaction.

The innkeeper bowed once more.

If there is anything else you will need, he said. Please, do not hesitate.

Bleedus shot him a hard look. He at once left.

This is very nice! Abe′ started. Reminds me of–

Listen, Bleedus cut him off, Stay here with the girl. And don’t you dare leave.

Where are you going?