Heir of Amber and Fire

by Rachanee Lumayno

  Except I didn’t know what was normal anymore.

  Chapter Eighteen

  THE BLOOD WAS STILL pounding in my ears, not from adrenaline, but from worry. My friends were still frozen in place where they had been when the bandits ran off. I looked at each of them in turn. Farrah looked thoughtful; Rhyss looked a little frightened, but also excited. Beyan’s expression was hardest to read.

  Rhyss broke the tension by shaking his head in amazement and saying, “Wow, Allayne. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

  I laughed, shakily. “Me neither.”

  “You saved us,” he said more seriously. “We were barely holding our own against those men until you did that. Scared them right off.”

  I nodded and shrugged numbly. I didn’t feel much like a hero.

  Farrah crossed over to me and put her hands on my shoulders. Studying my face, she asked, “Are you okay?”

  “I... I think so.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think you’re in shock.”

  “Maybe? I don’t know? I’ve never done that before.”

  “Never used your magic in that way?”

  “Never... never killed someone.”

  Farrah pulled me into a hug. “It is unsettling,” she agreed. “And it doesn’t get easier if and when it happens again. But you weren’t doing it in cruelty or malice. You were defending yourself. That man would have robbed you, or worse, if you hadn’t used your magic against him.”

  Or worse. I shuddered.

  Farrah turned away and rummaged through her pack. Finding a shawl, she held it out to me. Wordlessly, I took it and wrapped it around myself, willing it to be armor against my jumbled emotions instead of just flimsy fabric.

  “What did you do, exactly?” Beyan asked.

  “I’m honestly not sure,” I admitted. My fingers grasped the pendant. There was no point in keeping it secret anymore, since the entire group had seen the bandit try to take it. “That man — ” I tried not to look at the pile of ash “ — wanted it, I didn’t want him to have it, and the next thing I knew... well, you know.”

  Beyan tried to study the necklace without studying anything else about me, which was kind of hard, given my that my dress was half torn. I appreciated his chivalry, and would have found the situation amusing if I wasn’t so stunned by the night’s events.

  “A soulstone,” Beyan said. “I didn’t think there were any left. I thought they were just legends or fantasies.”

  Soulstone. When Beyan named the jewel around my neck, something settled into place in my heart. It made sense, the way my moonstone and I were tied together, the way I felt so strongly about it.

  “Where did you get it?” Beyan asked me. I hesitated, trying to think of what I could say that would sound plausible but not give away any more secrets.

  A slight breeze danced through the camp, stirring up the ash at my feet and blowing it past my face. I sneezed.

  “You can satisfy your curiosity later,” Farrah chided Beyan. “We have a few things to take care of first.” To me, she asked, “You have a change of clothing, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Go get it and change into it, and give me the dress you’re wearing. I can fix the tear,” she said. “I’ll go with you as lookout.”

  Rhyss snorted. Farrah shot him a dirty look. I relaxed a little. At least things were beginning to get back to normal.

  “And you two boys can clean up the camp,” she said, indicating the items lying around from the bandits’ flight.

  “If I wanted someone to boss me around, I would have brought my mother,” Rhyss said, but he started picking up weapons and putting them in a pile by the fire. Beyan retrieved his knife from the fallen bandit and cleaned it off.

  I went to my pack to get my other dress. My dagger was on top of all my other things, and I slipped it into my boot, determined never to go anywhere without it again. Farrah and I went into the forest just at the edges of our camp, and I quickly changed into my new dress. Farrah took my ripped gown from my arms as we walked back.

  While Farrah stitched by the firelight, I helped Rhyss gather the bandits’ things, returning the items they had stolen from us and going through their bags to see what spoils we had gained. Beyan took care of the more distasteful tasks, sweeping the ash out of the area and dragging the dead bandit away from the camp and into the forest.

  Our chores finished, Beyan and Rhyss joined Farrah and me by the fire. Farrah had put her sewing tools away, and we both sat starting at the bounty left by the bandits. They had apparently robbed other camps before ours, as their bags were full of money, small valuables, and food. Knowing that others may have died in their nighttime ambushes, I felt a little better about what had happened.

  Rhyss let out a slow whistle. “Nice,” he commented. “Raises for everyone?” He raised his eyebrows at Beyan.

  Beyan shook his head. “It’s blood money. I’d feel bad keeping it.”

  “It’s not like we can give it back,” Farrah pointed out.

  “True,” Beyan said. He sighed. “We needed some supplies anyway. We’re running low on food, but I don’t necessarily trust what’s in the bandits’ bags. And we should probably outfit ourselves better before facing Joichan. I suppose we could use the money that way.”

  “It’s a gift from the gods, I say,” Rhyss said. “We shouldn’t deny their bounty. It would only make them mad.”

  Farrah snorted. “Superstitious nonsense.” Her Faerie heritage didn’t easily lend itself to religious beliefs, as some humans actually revered the Fae and practiced rituals to either appease or entice them.

  Farrah had once commented, during one of our conversations on magic and heritage, that it was hard to believe in a deity of any sort when she was, in theory, supposedly part deity herself. “It’s kind of weird to believe in yourself,” she had told me.

  “Say what you will,” Rhyss said loftily. “It’s a sign. We should use it to bribe the dragon.”

  “Maybe,” Beyan said. “But from the stories I’ve heard, I don’t think Joichan is so easily swayed.”

  Now that everything was in order, Rhyss and Farrah settled back into their bedrolls. I made no move to go to sleep. Beyan looked at me curiously.

  “I’m still too jittery to sleep,” I said. “I can keep watch, if you like.”

  Beyan laughed. “Somehow, I don’t think they’ll be coming back, but we should keep a watch anyway.”

  He kindly didn’t say that it was because of my leaving, and him coming after me, that the camp had been left undefended in the first place. Still, I felt the shame of it acutely.

  Farrah yawned. “Fighting always makes me sleepy. Or hungry,” she said. “Wake me up after a few hours, I’d be happy to take over.”

  “Okay,” I said, knowing I probably would let her sleep through the night. Rhyss was already lightly snoring.

  Beyan moved closer to me and threw a twig into the fire, although it was still burning brightly from Farrah’s magic. It sparked and crackled, becoming charred within seconds. The ash from the burned twig wafted into the air, reminding me of the fight with the bandit again.

  To distract myself, I said, “I believe, before all the excitement, we were discussing something. Why you wanted to find Joichan.”

  “Oh, yes,” Beyan said. He threw another twig into the fire pit, staring at the dancing flames as if they held the answers to all of my questions. Or, perhaps, his. “Let’s see. Where do I begin.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  BEYAN’S STORY RIGHTLY began with Kye, around the time Beyan was born. As Kye had told me, their family had a strong legacy of dragon seeking, going back five generations or more. Because of this, by the time Kye started his career, their family was firmly established as the premier seekers in their field, and were very wealthy as a result. It was a big legacy to live up to, but every seeker in their line had proven themselves up to the task.

  When Joichan (supposedly) imprisoned my mother, Kye was in Orchwel
l. His wife had just given birth to a baby boy and Kye was looking forward to taking some time off to spend time with his growing family. In the nearby kingdom of Calia, the king (or, my grandfather) was desperately seeking knights, princes, or other nobles who were willing to face the dragon and save Princess Melandria.

  Over the next two years, while the Calian king threw whoever-was-willing at the dragon, Kye stayed close to Orchwell and his family, taking small, local commissions and proudly watching Beyan grow.

  And then the knight Hendon rescued the princess and drove Joichan from the kingdom and everyone was supposed to live happily ever after.

  Except that it didn’t work out that way.

  Three more years passed. The knight and the princess were married shortly after she was rescued, and had a baby girl (me). The king of Calia died peacefully, happy that his beloved daughter was safe and the kingdom’s future was secure. Sir Hendon and Princess Melandria became the new king and queen of Calia, and the baby princess (well, I) was a chubby toddler, getting into all sorts of mischief.

  It was around this time that Kye received an interesting visitor, a man who claimed to represent King Hendon of Calia. Kye, the famed dragon seeker of Orchwell, was being summoned to an audience with the king. Kye saddled his horse and rode back with the Calian ambassador, where he met with King Hendon — in private.

  Things were, for the most part, going well in Calia. The king and queen were beloved of their people, the kingdom was relatively peaceful, and everyone loved the little princess.

  But as the princess grew, King Hendon had noticed something strange about her. Random, unexplained things happened in her presence. She’d be crying fiercely but suddenly quiet down. When her parents looked in on her she was playing with a new doll, but they could have sworn her hands were empty. Or, another odd event: The princess would refuse to eat her dinner, no matter how much her nursemaid would try to cajole her. The nursemaid would turn away for a second, and when she turned back, the princess was happily eating her meal — which had changed from watery porridge to a sweet custard.

  And, finally, the most disturbing thing of all: King Hendon swore that the young princess’s eyes gleamed with a golden metallic sheen. But when he looked again, all he would see staring back at him were the innocent, big dark brown eyes of the princess.

  The king hadn’t spoken of his concerns to his queen. But he wondered if, during her imprisonment, the dragon Joichan had somehow enchanted Melandria so all her children would be cursed. He refused to have any more children by her if they were all going to suffer from this same oddness.

  King Hendon spun a story about wanting to send envoys to seek an audience with the dragon Joichan, who was widely known in the Gifted Lands as a being of wisdom with a deep understanding of humanity. The king hoped that the dragon could give insight on an important matter related to the future of Calia, one that had stumped all of the king’s advisers. It was close enough to the truth, but King Hendon omitted one important detail: Because he thought Joichan had tainted his queen with a curse, he wanted revenge. And he was determined to use Kye to get it, even if it meant Kye’s ruin.

  A seeker’s job is to lead someone to something, or to find something or someone. But such an amazing gift has a dark side to it as well. The seeker’s ability was never meant to be used for violence; to do so would be a perversion of their innate ability. If their ability was used for harm against the person or creature being sought, the darkness of the deed could possibly rebound and hurt the seeker as well. The seeker could go insane. Or worse. Only a conscienceless monster would request a seeker’s services for violent purposes. The majority of Kye’s commissions were from scholars who wanted to study dragons, or people who sought the creatures’ wisdom and secrets. Any dragon hunters were promptly turned away.

  Kye felt something was off about this commission — King Hendon seemed a little too eager, his eyes shining with a touch of mania as he talked. Kye also did not like the look of the four men that the king insisted would accompany Kye on the journey. The king said they were just ordinary Calian citizens who were good in a fight, but Kye could tell from the way they carried themselves that they were trained Calian soldiers, downplaying their skills for some reason.

  The king offered Kye enough money that Kye could have easily retired immediately after the search and supported his family comfortably for the rest of his days.

  And one does not say no to a king, especially a king like Hendon.

  So Kye accepted the commission. He rode back to Orchwell, prepared for the trip, gathered his team, and said goodbye to his family. No one was worried — this was Kye of Orchwell, was it not? The greatest dragon seeker of five generations. He had never failed a commission.

  Besides the four disguised Calian soldiers, Kye’s group consisted of three trusted, loyal men and women that often accompanied him on his seeking journeys. It wasn’t unusual for the patron or the patron’s ambassador to travel with the seeker, but the Calian soldiers made Kye and his team uneasy.

  After nine days of traveling, the dragon’s lair appeared in the distance. Kye breathed a silent sigh of relief. Soon his part in this odd, off-putting quest would be over.

  They reached the cave, expecting to find a dragon. Instead, there was a young man right outside the cave, checking some snares nearby. He stood up as the group approached, calm but wary.

  “Hello, gentlemen, ladies,” the man said. “What business brings you here today?”

  “We could ask you the same thing,” one of the soldiers-in-disguise snarled. “What fool tries to hunt near a dragon’s cave? There’d be no game for miles. And you’d end up being the dragon’s meal, instead.”

  “And a good day to you too,” the man answered politely, as if the guard hadn’t insulted him. He pushed his honey-brown hair from his face. “So then, you are here to find Joichan? Do you seek his wisdom, or his head?”

  “His wisdom, of course,” Kye said immediately. One of the Calian men snorted rudely. Kye turned to him, wary. “That is why King Hendon sent you, isn’t it?”

  The young man, hearing the king’s name, stiffened. “You are here on behalf of King Hendon of Calia?”

  “What does it matter to you, stranger?” the soldier asked.

  Impatiently, a second soldier pointed his blade at the strange young man. “We don’t have time for this. Either leave and let us be about our business, or we’ll kill you where you stand.”

  The young man’s demeanor changed. It was a subtle shift: from polite fellow traveler to... something else. Something menacing. A force to fear. He remained motionless, eyes locked with the soldier who had him at sword point. Yet even though it was the soldier who had the advantage, something about the changed young man made the soldier’s sword waver.

  The whole group tensed, silent and watchful.

  “If you’re here to kill the dragon, I’d reconsider. He’s not one to be trifled with.” The young man’s eyes flashed. His deep brown eyes suddenly glinted gold, bright and hot as fire. Years later, Kye would remember this moment and question if what he saw was true, or if it was just the adrenaline playing tricks on his eyes.

  “Thanks for the advice.” The first soldier’s tone changed from sarcastic to threatening. “Now leave of your own accord, or we’ll help you leave this world permanently.”

  “I’ll go,” said the young man quietly. “But remember my warning, and know that anything that befalls you is on your heads alone.”

  He turned and walked away, disappearing beyond the cave.

  The second soldier sheathed his sword, muttering, “He’s lucky I didn’t run him through.”

  The first soldier turned to Kye, motioning toward the cave. “The dragon must be in there. You’re the seeker. Go in first and secure him. Then we’ll come in and finish the job.”

  “Secure him?” Kye looked from his team to the Calian soldiers. “Finish the job? What do you mean?”

  The soldier laughed, an unpleasant sound. “Stupid man.
We’re to bring back the beast’s head for the king. He can stuff it and mount it on the wall behind the throne, or make a cape out of the dragon’s hide and wear it around the castle, for all I care.”

  “No! You can’t kill the dragon!”

  “Those are our orders. And there will be no payment for you unless you bring back proof of the dragon’s death to the king.”

  “This is not what we agreed to!”

  Before anyone could blink, the first soldier grabbed one of the women in Kye’s group and held a knife to her throat. “If you won’t help us take down the dragon, then your usefulness to us is at its end.”

  Kye and his group moved to save their friend, but suddenly found themselves staring at the points of several swords. They were quickly disarmed. Kye’s friends were secured to a tree outside the cave where they wouldn’t get in the way. One soldier was left behind to guard them.

  Kye, held at sword point, would accompany the rest of the soldiers into the cave to help them locate and kill the dragon. If Kye betrayed them in any way, his friends’ lives would be forfeit.

  The soldiers, with Kye in tow, moved toward the entrance of Joichan’s lair. But before they could step into the coolness of the cave, a great shadow blotted out the sun overhead. The wind stirred up leaves and dust around them; the ground quaked and nearly jolted the men off their feet. As quickly as the commotion had started, it ended abruptly, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. As one, the soldiers fearfully turned to see the cause of the disturbance.

  Joichan had come.

  Chapter Twenty

  THE SOLDIERS STOOD shaking in the long shadow cast by the massive dragon. At least five times bigger than the tallest man among them, the massive dragon tilted his golden head back and roared, deafening the trembling humans before him as he breathed a long slash of fire into the sky. Sunlight skipped off the edges of his scales, making him glow with a blinding brightness.