Bane of the Dragon King Page 16

  “Then if you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Of course.” She turned her back to a cold gust of wind swirling through the gardens and made her way toward the castle. Halfway down the walkway, she stopped and half-glanced over her shoulder. “We all loved him, Trog. We love you, too. I know the wound across your chest still bleeds. It will continue to do so until you release yourself of whatever blame you still cling to and forgive yourself for being human. For Eric’s and Gwyndolyn’s sake, let it go. It’s been long enough.”

  She walked the remainder of the walkway, her heart pounding so hard she was sure it was about to burst. An attendant opened the door as she approached. One quick look back found Trog on his knees, his shoulders rounded, sobbing.

  She knew the pain. She hoped she would never feel it again.

  David

  The next three days crept along at a pace even a snail would declare as slow. The weather turned unseasonably cold. The wind howled through the night, making sleep a near impossibility. David yawned and climbed out of bed. He looked at the clock on the mantle. Five thirty-five.

  In the morning.

  He pulled the heavy blanket from the bed and draped it around him to ward off the chill. Shivering, he stoked a fire in the fireplace then stepped out on the balcony.

  From his vantage point, even in the dim light of dawn, he could see for miles. To his left, the Northern Forest, and far beyond it, the kingdoms of Doursmouth, Banning, and Trent … Hirth’s staunchest allies. Ahead to the east, a sort of home spread out before him beginning with the Sankara Mountains and Berg Castle with its turrets poking through the treetops of the Northern Forest to the Cloverleaf River glistening in the moonlight, to the edge of the Domengart Mountains. Behind them lay the towns of Gable and Tulipakar, both positioned well out of sight.

  But it wasn’t the familiar territory, or the inescapable memories of good and evil that held him captive. It was the south, not to Hammershire or the horrors of the Southern Forest, but to the scorched lands beyond, toward the wine country of Tortello and more importantly, the white city of Avaleen. Within two hours, the mage delegates would arrive, and a knot formed in his stomach at the thought of a dozen mages swarming the castle grounds. No one else was too pleased with their arrival, either. For the past two days, Trog stomped around like a bear, grunting and groaning over their impending arrival. His sword lessons with David became brutal, even downright painful, and David had the bruises to prove it. The more David complained about his treatment, the more Trog pushed and hammered, jabbed and poked. Two nights ago, David topped the stairs to the fifth floor and his suite of rooms just as the door to Charlotte’s suite slammed shut and Trog huffed past him, his face all red and puffed up like a bullfrog ready to explode. Charlotte said little to David about the meeting except he got angry when she wouldn’t agree to use a little magic to catapult them to another universe. It was during that conversation with Charlotte that David noticed a significant change. She seemed more confident, more together. She held her head a bit higher, and her hair and clothes were impeccably coiffed and groomed.

  And she always wore a sword and dagger at her hips.

  They weren’t the trainers, either. These were long, thin, delicate blades with swirly, filigreed hilts. There was no doubt they’d been made for her, and they looked good at her sides. It still didn’t stop him from wondering if she’d be able to pull them if she needed to.

  A loud, thunderous noise drew David’s eyes to Berg castle. A shiver wiggled out of him as a finger of black smoke rose from the forest into the sky. It stretched and thinned, and then vanished. What was the beast up to now? How long would it be before he was ready to attack again? Thankfully, the knights and the army burned the bodies of the fallen heroes on the battlefield so Einar couldn’t make shadowmorths out of their souls. It was important to not give the beast anymore fighters for his cause.

  A light knock sounded at the door. He stepped inside and closed the balcony doors behind him. “Come in.”

  Charlotte entered dressed in black riding pants, boots, and a cropped teal riding jacket fitted to her waist. A black cloak lined in teal silk draped over her shoulders. Her trusty weapons hung at her sides, and a soft glow enveloped her. She looked exquisite. Royal. Angelic.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey. You look fantastic for six o’clock in the morning. What’s the occasion?”

  “I’m going back to the pit with Mangus. I think I’ve found a way to release all those ghosts and help them to redeem their souls at the same time. Slavandria said it will require a bit of astral travel, which doesn’t sound fun, but I need to try. If it works, those who stand with us will be able to move on to their next life with heaven’s blessings.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” She hesitated for a moment, then said, “I need a favor, David.”

  A log crackled and sputtered in the fire. “Sure. Anything.”

  “You’re attending a meeting with the High Council today, right?”

  David nodded. “Unfortunately. As paladin, I was asked to attend. I was just about to get dressed when you knocked on the door.”

  Charlotte moved closer to the fire, her palms facing the warmth. “I need to be in on that meeting. Is there any way you can arrange it?” She turned to face him. “I need it to be discreet.”

  “You want me to sneak you into a council meeting?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t you ask Mangus to bring you as a guest?”

  “No one is supposed to know what and who I am. I would have no reason to be there.”

  David nodded. “Point taken, and I’d love to help you, but I don’t have a clue as to how to get you in. The King’s Arbitration room is well guarded.”

  “You could transport me, right? Use that imbedium spell Slavandria taught you?”

  David chuckled. “It’s Ibidem Evanescere, and that makes you invisible, sort of.”

  “Well, I’ll need that one, too.”

  “Now you’re asking for two spells.” He smiled and tossed the blanket on a chair. “Tell me. Why would a Numí princess ask a mortal for help? Odd, don’t you think?”

  “Oh, shut up. Are you going to help me or not?”

  “What’s the big deal? Why do you need to get in there?”

  “I’m nosey.”

  David dipped his chin to his chest and gave her the steely eye.

  “Okay, fine. I want to get a feeling for which mages I can trust as well as the ones who will join me on a diplomatic mission to Itas. They cannot all be bad, not with a full-blown war marching toward their front door.”

  David strolled into his bed chamber and pulled a white tunic from a folded stack of clothes and slipped it over his head, tucking the tail in his pants. A padded, long-sleeved brown and gold doublet followed. “Why don’t you ask Prince Venniver to open diplomatic talks with all the kings? I hear he’s got all kinds of connections to the inner circles.” He returned to the common room, his fingers working the buttons of his jacket.

  “The prince returned to Itas three nights ago, after the tribulation dinner. I don’t think he’ll be back.” Charlotte gave him a coy smile. “He has a difficult time taking no for an answer.”

  He touched the tip of her nose. “As will most men who have been hypnotized by your beauty.” David tugged at the sleeves of his shirt and stared at himself in the mirror. Was it possible Vinny was gone? Doubtful, especially after what Gildore said. Even if he did leave, he’d be back. There was no way the prince would give up such a fine opportunity to schmooze the powers that be, to ingratiate himself among the all-powerful mages of Avaleen. The bait was too tempting for that slimy fish not to take it.

  Which made David trust the man even less.

  He turned to Charlotte and extended his arms out to his sides. “How do I look?”

  “You make a fine Liaison of Foreign Affairs.” She kissed him
on the cheek. “Oh, and keep the longer hair. It suits you.”

  His lips parted in surprise. “You think so? I was debating cutting it.”

  “Don’t. It gives you a devil may care look. It’s appealing.” She hooked an arm around his. “So, are you going to sneak me into your council meeting?”

  He kissed her forehead. “We’ll see. Go astral travel and do what you need to do with the specters of the pit. If I can figure out a way to get you inside without getting caught and losing my head, we’ve got a date. Otherwise you’ll have to wait for the honorary delegation dinner tonight to woo them with your charm and grace.”

  “Fine.” She feigned a pout, and not a very good one at that. “You may want to grab your cloak. The air has a bit of a nip to it.”

  He plucked the fur-lined garment from the coat stand and opened the door. “After you, my dear. Let’s get this party started.”

  Charlotte

  A cold, misty fog rolled through the pit, blanketing everything in a veil of gray. Up above, the sun shone bright, its rays warming the land and air. Birds twittered. Rabbits bounded through the underbrush. Down below, however, the world remained dark and damp. Not a sound could be heard. Charlotte shivered at the quietude, the silence colder than the chill freezing her bones. Though she couldn’t see them, she knew the dead were there, watching. Waiting.

  Mangus stood behind her, his sword drawn. She could feel the magic coming off him in waves of endless energy, spreading outward like a shield, protecting her. Over the past few days, she’d grown accustomed to the intense power that oozed from him. Several times, that power knocked her to the ground. Other times it sent her soaring through the air. After a few times of getting her butt kicked, she began to feel the difference in the unique tingles each spell put off. Each unspoken incantation had its own group of short and long bursts. If she paid attention to the code, she could deflect the spell before it was cast. Within no time, she was counteracting everything he threw at her. She could sense his footwork, the next twist of his body, or which weapon he would choose. Each lesson grew harder and harder, and each time she caught on and proved to be a worthy opponent. At the end of each day, he praised her for her hard work and determination, and every night she collapsed in bed, tired, beaten but more confident in herself than she’d ever been.

  The day of Eric’s funeral, he gave her the sword and dagger she wore at her hips. She cried. They were beautiful, and they were hers. New friends she’d grown to love and respect.

  But they weren’t going to help her now. Where she was going, she would have no need for mortal weapons. She took a seat on the forest floor, tipped her head forward, her chin to her chest, and closed her eyes.

  “Are you ready?” Mangus asked.

  Charlotte’s heart scampered and skipped. It may have even stopped a time or two, she couldn’t tell. Her nerves were a wreck, stretched tight, to the point of breaking. She shook out her arms, wiped her sweaty palms on her knees, and nodded. “Yes. I’m ready.”

  Energy in shades of pewter blue and summer gold swarmed around her, enveloping her in threads of warmth. Her eyelids grew heavy. Her muscles turned to noodles, and sleep found its way in. It flooded her being, lifted her, rocked her on a feather floating up and up until the earth became small and tiny below her, a marble in a universe of time. A part of her almost cried out, but she turned her sight to the scene above her.

  Long heavenly arms draped in the thinnest of gossamer mist reached for her, their touch gentle and guiding. Her eyes opened wide, her heart even wider as they carried her over a celestial city to a voluminous cloud sparking in silver and white energy. She slipped through a veiled brume, and suddenly she stood alone before a pristine palace of white, the hands vanishing into nothing. It was simple in architecture. No gilding, no streets paved of gold, no giant gates. There was a sense of peace and tranquility. A place where no evil resided. The grand doors opened, and a male voice beckoned her to step forth. Drawn like a moth to a flame, she entered the domain.

  All fear, doubt, hesitation, anguish, and sorrow ran from her soul. They served no purpose in this new place. Serenity fell upon her, swaddling her in absolute love and unity with the universe. She abandoned the thin threads holding her to her physical form and floated above the veiled floor.

  From unseen doorways came others like her, ethereal beings, bearing harmony and understanding. They clustered around her, some humming, others singing. Their energy and good will spilled into her soul, illuminating it with knowledge. The history of the universe swirled around her on highways of enlightenment. She closed her eyes and drank it in. She saw worlds devout in their belief in the heavens basking in calm and placidity. Other worlds burned in hatred, their beliefs in all things other than the divine void. Then there was her world. It was conflicted. So much of it shone and glimmered with hope, but there was an evil spreading like a cancer, destroying all that was good, silencing the voices screaming for divine intervention. She felt a tug at her heart. Her home was dying, and she could do nothing to save it.

  “You can change everything,” the male voice said.

  She looked around. Finding no one, she asked, “Who are you? Where are you?”

  The angelic beings retreated into the unseen doorways.

  “I am all things divine. I am light. I am peace. I am love, and I am calm, and I am all around you.”

  “May I see you?”

  “There is nothing to see. I am not of body, but of spirit. Energy. I am all around you, and within you. I am eternal. I have no beginning. I have no end. I am a circle, ten million universes wide and growing. I am time. I am forever.”

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  “I did not. You came to me. Why?”

  “Do you not know?”

  “I want to hear it from you.”

  Charlotte shuffled her feet, took a deep breath, and clenched her hands into fists, not out of anger, but fear and uncertainty. The pressure of finding the right words built in her throat, the courage to say them eluding her.

  Stand tall. Hold your head high and be confident, Mangus had said. You are strong. You are a Numí princess. You have nothing to fear. It is they who should be afraid of you and love you at the same time.

  She threw her shoulders back and lifted her chin. “I have a problem.” She cleared the rattle from her voice. “The realm of Fallhollow is on the brink of war. The dragon king, Einar, is gathering his armies to attack the kingdom of Hirth. The kingdom is short on defenders, and we desperately need them. I have discovered a grave of sorts, a pit where prisoners were sent to die. These dead souls are desperate to move on, to take the path of the next part of their journey, but I don’t know how to free them. I seek the wisdom of the heavens.”

  “You wish to free these souls only if they agree to come to the aid of Hirth?”

  “No. I want to free them because they deserve it. No one deserves eternal damnation without a chance to redeem themselves. I want to offer them a way to find eternal peace. Many seem willing to do so in exchange for freedom. I do not wish to use them for personal gain, but rather as a way for them to fix the wrongs of their pasts, to find solace and forgiveness through honor and reverence. One last chance to right all their wrongs and know the heavens forgive them. Can this be done?”

  “Yes. Is there anything else you need?”

  She took a deep breath, her skin taut with tension. “Yes. An army of Numí soldiers, when the time is right.”

  There. She said it. Whew. Her heart beat in crazy time.

  “The Numí have already been promised. Jared will lead them. Is there anything else?”

  “How do I release the souls?”

  “Through portals. The Queen Mother will teach you. Inform those in advance who seek enlightenment. Your expectations must be clear. Those who choose to fight will go through when you light the portal. Those who do not will remain where they are with no other chance of redemption. You are the only one who can crea
te the portal. You will need this to do so.”

  An object descended from above and came to a hovering stop level at her waist. It was an obelisk-shaped amber crystal the length of her palm. She grasped it and basked in the power surging through it. It was beautiful. Mighty. Pure.

  Charlotte glanced all around her, her gaze settling on the cloud-filled ceiling. “Thank you,” she said, pressing the gem to her chest. “For everything.”

  “Your heart is pure, young Numí. Protect it well. He will try to steal it, turn it dark. He will prey on your goodness. His magic is powerful.”

  “Who?” Charlotte’s skin crawled with a thousand invisible ants.

  “Stay far from the Silver Isles. They will kill you. You must go now.”

  “Wait! Who will kill me?”

  The massive arms draped in gossamer mist reappeared and scooped her into their palms.

  “No! Wait! Who will try to hurt me? You must tell me!”

  She descended over the ethereal city, down through space and time. Darkness. Cold. Terror. Sleep. Scents of earth and rain infiltrated her dreams. Mangus called out to her. His hands gripped her shoulders. He shook her.

  “Charlotte! Come back. Wake up. Now!”

  She opened her eyes, looked around, and sat straight up. “How long have they been here?” The ghosts surrounded her, hundreds of them, their faces begging for news.

  “About three hours.”

  She looked at him in astonishment. “We’ve been here three hours?”

  “No, we’ve been here almost seven. It will be dark soon. We must get back to the castle for the dignitaries’ dinner.

  Charlotte leapt to her feet. “They’ve already met in the arbitration room?”

  Mangus nodded. “Yes.”

  A curse word slipped from her tongue.

  “Excuse me?” Mangus asked.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. We’ve got to go.” She jumped to her feet and pushed through the spirits. “We have to get back. I have to get ready.”