Heir of Amber and Fire

by Rachanee Lumayno

  I swallowed hard, fighting the rising sense of panic in my chest. My face flushed, and I was breathing hard like I had just been running. This was it. My journey to find my father was over before it had even really begun. Prince Anders would bring his reluctant bride back to Calia and King Hendon would lock me up until the wedding. My mind raced. Should I throw myself on the prince’s mercy?

  I slowly turned to face Prince Anders. We stared at each other. Just as I was about to speak, the prince said, “I am mistaken. I thought you were my intended, Princess Jennica of Calia, but... you look nothing like her.” He snorted rudely. “Thank goodness.”

  I look nothing like her? But I AM her! Perhaps the prince had too much to drink, or was exhausted from his travels. However, I wasn’t going to question my good fortune. I sketched a quick curtsy toward the prince. Hurrying past their table, I practically ran up the stairs to my room.

  Once I was at the door, I said the spell to undo the lock as I was hastily working the key in the lock simultaneously. With both magical and mundane locks open, I slipped inside. There was no bar inside for the door; I supposed perhaps guests normally pushed the wooden chest to block entrance into the room at night. I tried moving the chest, but couldn’t get it to budge. Instead, I locked the door magically and with the key and then sat down on the bed, trying to calm my frantically beating heart.

  I hadn’t realized how afraid I was until I had seen my hand shaking while trying to do the spell. I thought it was a trick of the dim light in the hallway, but once I lit the lamp on the bedside table, I saw that my hand looked different. In fact, my whole arm looked different. My normally olive-toned skin had deepened a few shades, and my skin seemed to have a deep golden metallic sheen to it. There was a faint pattern on my arms, too, but I couldn’t quite make it out.

  I unpinned my hair, shaking it loose so it fell around my shoulders. Grabbing a fistful of hair to examine, I saw that my dark hair had golden streaks running through it again. But that couldn’t be right. When I combed through my hair this morning, it was as solid black as it had always been.

  Mentally I ran through my options. I could leave tonight, but that would leave me without a place to sleep. Besides, I had already paid for the room. Since I didn’t know the prince’s plans, I didn’t know what time he intended on leaving the next day. But since he was going home to Rothschan, which was about a three days’ ride from Calia, it seemed safe to assume that he and his valet would want to travel at first light. Fortunately I wasn’t going as far; Orchwell was only about a half day’s walk away from where I was currently staying. I decided to wake before sunrise and get back on the road. Hopefully I would be well away from the inn before the prince woke up and started his journey again.

  Now that I had a plan in mind, I felt a lot calmer. I unlocked the trunk and fished out my spell book. After an hour or so of study, I put the book down on the bedside table, trimmed the lamp and went to sleep.

  I was awakened by the sound of someone trying to get into my room.

  Chapter Twelve

  I SAT UP IN BED, TOO scared to make a noise. I wasn’t sure how long I had been sleeping, but the moon spilled through the window across the room and created a pool of light just by the door.

  A key turned partway in the lock, then stopped, unable to move further. The handle of the door rattled. I reached out and felt around the bedside table, wondering if I could use the lamp as a weapon.

  “Why won’t this stupid door unlock? Why won’t my key work?” The voice, although a little muffled by the door, was unmistakably that of Prince Anders.

  I slipped out of bed and grabbed the base of the lamp, holding it close to my chest.

  The door handle rattled again. “Where’s the innkeeper? This door is broken. Why won’t it unlock?” The prince’s voice was louder now, and slightly slurred.

  Footsteps came hastily up the stairs. “Here, Your Grace,” I heard the valet say smoothly. “Let me bring your to your room. I’m afraid that’s not the right one.”

  “But it is!” Prince Anders was definitely drunk. “I counted the doors. One. Two.... One.”

  There was a thump as something heavy fell against my door. I almost felt bad for the valet.

  “Come now, Your Grace,” the valet said. He sounded a bit labored, like he was carrying something — well, someone — heavy. “Just a few steps more.”

  I heard some slow, uneven steps as Prince Anders and his valet made their way a few paces beyond my room. The door to the room next to mine opened and shut. After a few moments, I heard snoring coming from that direction.

  The door of the prince’s room opened and closed again, and I heard the valet’s footsteps as he passed by my room to his, which must have been the first one at the top of the stairs.

  “Idiot,” I heard him mutter. “Rothschan’s well to be rid of him. Heaven help Calia.” The valet’s door opened and shut, and then all was quiet in the hallway once again.

  I put the lamp back down on the bedside table and climbed back into bed. While my heart was still racing, I was also proud of how well my lock spell had worked.

  I slept fitfully until it was time to get up and leave in earnest. Prince Anders was still snoring loudly in the room next door, which eased my mind about potentially running into him. I hoped the valet was still abed, knowing that the two of them wouldn’t be getting an early start with his master in that state.

  I carefully made my way downstairs, where the innkeeper was just building up the fire in the hearth, preparing for his own busy day. He unlocked the door for me and I started down the road toward Orchwell. The stars were gone from the sky and there was a faint orange glow at the horizon when I left.

  About an hour later, the sun had risen and I was well on my way to Orchwell. There was no chance now of seeing Prince Anders; he would be taking a different road from the inn since Rothschan lay to the west, and I was headed straight south.

  When the sun was almost directly overhead, I noticed there was more traffic on the road. I quickened my step, knowing I was close to my destination. Less than an hour later, and I was there: Orchwell, the Land of Seekers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  EACH OF THE REALMS in the Gifted Lands has its own unique properties. Calia, for example, produces some of the finest magicians in the world, something that its ruler, King Hendon, barely tolerated. I had always assumed it was because he originally hailed from Rothschan, a land known for its military prowess. The people of Rothschan had a distrust of anything mystical — if it wasn’t logical and easily understood, then it was dangerous and to be avoided. An alliance between Calia and Rothschan seemed unlikely, although with my mother and Hendon’s marriage, it now had precedent. A union between the two kingdoms meant others would be unlikely to oppose us — the combination of might and magic would be formidable.

  And now I was in Orchwell, our closest neighboring kingdom. An easy day’s ride away, it had taken me about two and a half days of walking. I was fortunate that the long summer days gave me extra time for traveling.

  Orchwell was also called the Land of Seekers. I wondered how the ability to seek worked. Did you have to study and practice it, like magic? Or were you just able to execute your skill flawlessly from birth?

  And what if what you sought did not want to be found? With his abilities, my shapeshifting dragon father could easily hide if he wanted. I just hoped that once he realized who I was, he wouldn’t want to hide from me. While I was determined to find Joichan, I only had one month to stop the wedding, dragon or no dragon.

  I joined the crowd of people entering Orchwell’s gates confidently, sure that the Calian riders were long gone. The throng of villagers, merchants, and other visitors pushed forward. Soon, I was inside the gates of Orchwell’s capital.

  Once inside, I gaped at the city around me. I had only been here once, when I was very little. And even then, I had been in the royal carriage, curtains buttoned up against the outside world. We had gone straight to the palace, not tak
ing any time on our visit to tour the kingdom of Orchwell at all.

  Everywhere I looked, I saw brightly painted signs. On the doors, in the windows, on wooden slats hanging over entryways. It seemed that seekers were not coy about being found. Each sign advertised what, exactly, the occupants of that particular location were good at finding. This person specialized in jewelry; that one’s focus was on finding a child’s hidden talent. Some seeking talents seemed very broad, while others had only one highly specialized skill. Yet as I looked all around me, lost in the colorful signage, I couldn’t find anything that screamed I find dragons!

  I wandered down the street, taking it all in. I was so caught up in the spectacle around me that I didn’t notice the produce woman until I bumped right into her.

  “Oh my goodness!” I said in dismay. In my absentmindedness, I had run right into her and nearly tipped over her little wheeled stand of fruits and vegetables.

  I reached out to steady her cart before any of her produce could fall into the street. “Please excuse me, madam. I was so busy looking up I didn’t look where I was going.”

  The middle-aged woman laughed good-naturedly. “You must be a visitor, then. Newcomers always gawk when they get their first look at Orchwell’s capital city.”

  “It is overwhelming,” I admitted. “How does one seek a seeker when there are so many of them?”

  “You could spend days looking at all the signs, trying to find the one you’re looking for,” she agreed.

  “Are you a seeker?” I asked, eyeing her cart. What would she seek? The perfect vegetable?

  The woman laughed. “Contrary to the rumors, not every citizen of Orchwell is a seeker,” she said. “I’m just a mere farmer. Many of my friends are seekers of some sort, however. After seeing what they go through, I’m happy to be ‘only’ a farmer.”

  “Oh?” I wondered what she meant.

  She motioned me closer and pitched her voice lower. “Seeking is a double-edged sword. It’s a rare and wonderful talent, but it can also drive a person mad if they don’t use their gift regularly. Sometimes it can lead them into physically or emotionally dangerous places. Like it or not, the things a seeker seeks must be found. And sometimes it’s better to leave things lost, if you take my meaning.”

  She leaned back and spoke in her regular tone. “But I’m sure you didn’t come to Orchwell just to sightsee. No one ever does. Are you looking for someone or something in particular?”

  “Yes, actually,” I said. “A man — or woman — named Kye. Have you heard of this person?”

  “Oh, Kye,” she said, smiling. “He’s easy enough to find. Just continue down this way, turn right at the first street you can, and you’ll find his home on the right. He’s got the dragon sign on his door.”

  “Thank you,” I said. To show extra appreciation, I decided to purchase an apple from her stand. As I was paying her, she said, “Funny, though. You don’t look like the adventuring sort.”

  What did that mean? Before I could ask her, she turned away to talk to another customer. I shrugged and started walking down the street, eating my apple as I went.

  I had finished my apple just as I found Kye’s house, following the woman’s directions. Sure enough, there was a picture of a golden dragon on the weathered gray door. I studied the picture, admiring the artist’s work. The dragon was fierce, but majestic and beautiful as well. Was that what my father Joichan was like?

  I knocked on the door. A panel slid back in the door and a pair of rich brown eyes suddenly stared at me from the golden dragon’s face. I stepped back, startled.

  “Yes?” A muffled male voice spoke from behind the dragon sign.

  “Ah... hello,” I said hesitantly.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yes,” I said, trying to gain confidence. “I’m looking for Kye. I was told I could find him here?”

  “Kye doesn’t seek anymore,” the voice said.

  “Please. It’s important.”

  The brown eyes regarded me, expression hard and unreadable. Then: “Fine. Six hundred pieces of gold, half of the money up front.”

  “Three hundred pieces of gold?” I said in dismay. While my mother had been generous, that amount was considerably more than all the money I carried. “I... I don’t have that much money.”

  “Too bad, then,” the voice said. The panel started to slide shut.

  “Wait!” I called out. The panel stopped mid-slide and slowly opened again. “Please. I need Kye’s help.”

  “Three hundred gold,” the voice said. “Or don’t waste my time.”

  “Queen Melandria of Calia sent me to find Kye,” I said desperately. “My business with him is most urgent.”

  There was a pause as the brown eyes sized me up. The silence stretched out longer as I stood on the doorstep awkwardly. Finally, with a decisive bang, the panel slid shut and the brown eyes disappeared.

  I turned to go, my eyes stinging with sudden tears.

  The door swung open behind me. I turned around and was face to face with those brown eyes again. They were set in the face of a man who looked near my age, or maybe a few years older. His dark brown hair fell over his forehead and he pushed it back impatiently as we stared at each other.

  “Well? Come in,” he said, and held the door open for me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  AS I ENTERED THE HOUSE, my eyes were drawn to all the fantastic things on display. Whoever lived here was obviously well-traveled, as souvenirs from all over the Gifted Lands and beyond were featured all over the room. I spied a small square of stained glass layered on the window, its rich blue and green rays of colored light illuminating the wooden carvings on a table nearby. A lush red silk robe hung on one wall, and an impressive tapestry of the night sky hung on another wall. I longed to examine it up close. And everywhere I looked — on bookshelves, on the mantle, even on the windowsills — there were little painted figurines of various kinds of dragons.

  But even though all these interesting knick-knacks initially drew the eye, they couldn’t disguise the peeling paint on the walls, the warped wooden furniture, or the fraying fabric curtains drawn back from the windows. This sad backdrop to the bright and beautiful objects surrounding us made me feel that, instead of a proud display of a well-lived life, they were testaments to a faded glory.

  The young man observed me as I gaped at everything. “That’s the usual expression people have when they first come here,” he said.

  “These are amazing,” I said, giving into the temptation to study the celestial sky tapestry. I stopped myself from running my fingers down the intricate weaving. “Everything here is so beautiful. You must have traveled everywhere, Kye.”

  “I’m not — ” he began to say, when he was interrupted by an older gentleman who hobbled into the room, leaning heavily on a cane.

  “Who’s here, Beyan?” the man asked my host. He had the same features as Beyan, but there were gray streaks through his brown hair and at his temples, and his face had a more weathered look. His right leg was deformed, twisted in a way that was unnatural. He subtly winced with each step; even though the injury looked old, I could see it still hurt him. Despite his infirmity, he gave off the sense that he was still very capable.

  “A potential patron,” said Beyan. “Says Queen Melandria of Calia sent her to find you, Father.”

  The older man smiled. “Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time. But when I met her, she was still Princess Melandria, you know. She wouldn’t become queen until years later, when her father passed away.”

  “You’re... Kye?” I asked the older man.

  “That’s right,” he confirmed.

  “Can you help me? The queen specifically told me to seek you out. I’m looking for a dragon,” I said.

  Kye laughed. “Of course you are, or you wouldn’t be here. But I’m retired, and have been for some time now.” He gestured to his leg with the cane. “I never really recovered from my last seeking engagement. Not much use in t
he field now.”

  “I don’t suppose I could convince you to come out of retirement?” I asked doubtfully.

  “No chance whatsoever,” Kye said cheerfully. “I’m quite happy at home, painting dragons instead of chasing them.”

  So the dragon figurines were his creation.

  “I saw all of those miniatures when I came in. They’re beautifully done,” I said.

  “They’re not just little show pieces,” he said. “Each figurine is a dragon I was commissioned to seek.”

  “Really?” I took a second look around the room, now paying closer attention to the colorful statuettes.

  “Sure,” Kye said. He pointed at a blue dragon. “That was an ice dragon I was tasked to find in the frigid north. What an expedition! I thought my limbs would all freeze off before we found her.” He indicated a purple dragon figure. “This was my first ever seeking engagement. Just a little earth dragon, but he was a feisty one.”

  My eye caught a golden dragon, similar to the painting on the door. This figurine was larger than most of the other dragons. “What about this one?” I asked.

  Kye’s expression clouded over. “He’s a fire dragon, with a fair amount of magic as well. His name is Joichan.”

  My eyes widened. So this was my father!

  I studied the figurine closely. Larger than most of the other figurines, it seemed more alive than the other carvings on the shelves. Perhaps it was the proud stance, or the wise expression. Or maybe it was the majestic tilt of the head, the way the flight-ready, curved wings spoke of power simmering under the surface.

  “It’s a remarkable likeness,” I murmured.

  “Thank you,” said Kye. “It’s something to amuse me in retirement, and I make a bit of money selling them off.”

  I turned back to Kye. “Your injury... so you fought the dragons you were tasked to seek?”

  “Goodness, no,” Kye said with genuine revulsion. “Everyone in my direct family line has been a dragon seeker for at least five generations back. Seekers are peaceful. Our job is to find them, not hurt or kill them. That would be a perversion of our gift.” He became more animated as he spoke, waving his cane around. When he put his cane back down, it slipped and Kye wobbled with it.