Heir of Amber and Fire

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Heir of Amber and Fire Page 19

by Rachanee Lumayno


  Beyan, attired in a navy blue velvet jacket, saw me as I walked back into the camp. “You look absolutely fetching, milady.”

  Was he being sincere or sarcastic? I smiled. Knowing him, it was a little of both. I held out my hand, and he took it and kissed it, bowing low.

  “Look at that, Beyan’s finally learned to be a gentleman!” Rhyss teased.

  Beyan straightened. “You wound my honor, sir. Therefore, I am forced to challenge you to a duel. Give me a moment.” He patted his pockets. “Now, where are those gloves?”

  We all laughed. At that moment, Joichan stepped out of the trees, adjusting the sleeves on his golden brown jacket. It not only fit him well, it was very fitting; I couldn’t imagine him in anything but his dragon colors. My father finished fiddling with his suit coat and saw me. He stopped still, looking thunderstruck.

  “Well? What do you think?” I asked, crossing over to him.

  My father finally found his voice. “Oh, Jennica. For a minute there I thought... you look exactly like your mother did, all those years ago. She was wearing that dress when we first met.”

  My throat suddenly constricted. I didn't know what to say. Even if we were successful and stopped Hendon, it didn’t necessarily mean there would be a happy ending for my parents.

  My father nodded sadly as if he knew what I was thinking. He took a deep breath, visibly composing himself. In another moment he was himself again: Joichan, the proud dragon shapeshifter, incredibly wise and controlled. “Shall we?”

  The five of us joined a group of nobles headed toward the castle. The sun had risen overhead in a cloudless sky, promising a beautiful day for a wedding. Although we had gotten up early, we hadn’t beaten the crowds into the castle grounds. There must have been a hundred or more people milling about: leaders of the neighboring kingdoms, their families, other heads of state, lesser visiting nobility, and their servants. Not to mention the Calian nobility, their servants, and the castle servants, tasked with attending all the visitors and preparing for the wedding.

  I felt a little twinge of sadness. Although I did not want to marry Prince Anders, it was supposed to be my wedding day. Would I ever get to have a real Calian wedding someday? Or would this sham be the closest I would ever come to it?

  A guard at the gate called out to the crowd, repeating the same instructions: “All weapons must be left with the castle guards! No exceptions! You will get your weapons back upon leaving the castle.”

  We turned in our weapons to the guards manning the castle gates, Rhyss hesitating over his prized knife.

  “You promise I’ll get it back?” He reluctantly handed it over to the waiting guard.

  “Of course, sir.” The man eyed the old dagger with distaste. “It’s a very... fine weapon, sir. I can see why you want it back.”

  Mollified by the compliment, Rhyss breezed into the courtyard. Farrah rolled her eyes at his retreating back as she gave her sword to the guard and hurried after Rhyss.

  We walked along the grounds, taking everything in. The day had barely begun, but the festivities were already well underway. Besides a myriad of entertainment for the visitors, food and drink were flowing freely.

  “King Hendon is notoriously tight-fisted.” I dodged two children playing tag, who were being chased by their frazzled nursemaid. “But it looks like he’s spending more in one day than he does in an entire year. Why go to such expense, especially since the wedding is fake?”

  “These people don’t know that.” Beyan’s sweeping arm took in all of the people carousing around us.

  “Appearances count,” Joichan chimed in. “But more importantly, if everyone’s happy and drunk, they won’t be looking for anything untoward during the wedding.”

  By the look of things, I wasn’t sure any of the visiting nobles would even be awake for the wedding, let alone somewhat sober.

  We found a quiet spot away from the majority of the crowd and stopped to talk.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Rhyss asked quietly.

  Beyan turned to me. “Jennica, I hate for you to go back, but you’re the best person to find your friend. I’ll go with you in case anything happens.”

  “As will I,” said Joichan.

  “Too many of us running around the castle may attract attention,” I said. “If it’s okay with you, I’d prefer when we get inside that you make sure my mother is safe.”

  “We’ll stay out here, then, and see what we can learn,” Rhyss said.

  “If we find out anything important, we’ll try to find you. Otherwise, we’ll see you at the ceremony,” Farrah said.

  With that settled, we split up. Joichan, Beyan, and I easily strolled inside the palace. We didn’t have to worry about getting caught in the hallways; with all the hubbub of servants scurrying to and fro, and random nobles wandering around the Calian palace, we just looked like wedding guests enjoying the festivities.

  However, as we headed farther in, there were fewer wedding guests around. We also had to avoid any of the palace guards, as they would recognize me as the princess.

  We reached the castle wing that housed the private rooms of the royal family. I was betting that, due to the ongoing celebration, King Hendon would either be celebrating with the other guests or overseeing the final touches for the wedding. But my mother, still under house arrest, would most likely be confined to her room until right before the wedding, when it would be necessary for her to make an appearance.

  I also hoped that my mother might have an idea of where the king had taken Taryn.

  I knocked, low and urgent, on the door.

  “Enter.” My mother sounded weary and resigned.

  We slipped into my mother’s chambers. She stood up immediately, surprised to see us.

  “Jennica! Joichan! And...” She broke off, unsure of how to react to Beyan’s presence.

  Beyan sketched a quick bow. “Beyan, son of Kye of Orchwell, at your service, Your Majesty.”

  My mother smiled at him, then at me. “I should have guessed who you were, since Jennica was successful in finding her father.”

  “Mother! The king has Taryn. It happened last night,” I said. “We were being held in the same cell; he tried to cast a spell on me, but it didn’t work. So he took Taryn instead. She’s under the king’s control. What do you suppose he wants with her? He said something about ‘an alternate path’ to getting his way.”

  My mother looked both troubled and intrigued at my words. “I heard them in the hallway last night. I believe he’s locked her in your rooms.”

  Immediately, I spun around to leave. Mother’s voice stopped me. “Wait, Jennica. You were able to resist his spell?”

  Turning back, I fished my amber soulstone out from beneath my bodice. “I don’t know if resist is the right word... I only knew, with every part of my being, that I didn’t want him to succeed. The more Hendon tried to hurt me with his spell, the more this... shielded me somehow.”

  Mother looked at Joichan, a question lighting her eyes. “I’m glad he wasn’t able to hurt you with his vile magic. But how?”

  Joichan shrugged, but smiled at me proudly. “We don’t have time for a more thorough study right now, but... you are a stronger magician than you know, Jennica.”

  I smiled back, but it faded quickly as I remembered something. “Mother, Father... Hendon has a soulstone of his own. It’s a red jewel he wears around his neck.”

  My mother gasped. “I’ve seen that necklace. He had it on the day he forced me to talk. Come to think of it... he’s been wearing that necklace for some time now.”

  “So he’s been able to tap into that magical ability for a while, and is obviously growing more proficient in it every day,” Joichan said.

  “But it doesn’t explain how he plans to conquer all of the Gifted Lands,” I argued. “He can’t exactly cast individual spells on each person here. It would take too long and be too noticeable.”

  Beyan coughed slightly, catching my eye as he nodded toward the door. He was rig
ht; we needed to continue our search for Taryn.

  I gave my mother and father quick hugs goodbye. Beyan opened the door and we slipped back into the hallway. Looking at him, I could see my question mirrored in his face: Now what? He shrugged. We walking toward my suite, which we had passed on the way to my mother’s set of rooms, with me leading the way.

  Ahead of us, a door opened further down the hallway.

  It was the door to my rooms. Those of the princess.

  And leaving my room was Taryn, dressed in one of my gowns. It was a few inches too short for her, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. Which was odd, because Taryn was always conscientious about fashion, whether it was hers or mine.

  And why was she wearing my clothes at all?

  “Taryn!” I cried out. She looked over at us.

  In an undertone, Beyan said incredulously, “Are you two related? She looks just like you!”

  “Of course not.” Brushing his comment aside, I strode toward Taryn. “I’ve met her family, and trust me, it’s definitely not my own.”

  “Wait, Jennica — ”

  As I approached Taryn, I could make out the expression on her face. She did not look happy to see me.

  “Taryn?” My happiness at seeing my lady-in-waiting changed to uncertainty.

  Something seemed odd about Taryn. Her face seemed fuzzy, like I was viewing her through a veil or a dirty window. Focusing on the layer of magic floating around her, I realized Beyan was right — Taryn looked like an exact copy of me. Instead of her usual blonde curls and bright green eyes, she stared back at me with dark brown eyes, her now-black hair piled high on her head. Even her heart-shaped, fair-skinned face had transformed into my own rounded olive-skinned features. Her true self was an extremely faint shadow underneath the skillfully crafted illusion.

  Subtly, I tugged at the magic around her, trying to twitch it off or look for a weakness. It wouldn’t budge. My heart sank, knowing that during an event as momentous as a royal wedding, no one with magical ability would be close enough to Taryn to ascertain the illusion, let alone have the time to do anything about it.

  No one, except King Hendon.

  “Are you lost? Who is this Taryn person you’re talking about?” Taryn had never taken such a disdainful, haughty tone with me before.

  “Taryn, stop playing. We need to get you out of here.”

  “I’m not Taryn, whoever she is. I am Her Highness, the Crown Princess of Calia, and you should address me as such.”

  I stared at Taryn in disbelief. “Taryn, what has Hendon done to you? Don’t you remember me at all?” I reached for her, but she recoiled in horror. “Taryn, it’s me. I’m Princess Jennica.”

  Taryn blinked. For a brief moment, the arrogance in her eyes disappeared, replaced by confusion and a bit of recognition. “Jennica...”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. She remembered me. It was going to be all right.

  Taryn opened her mouth and started screaming. “Guards!”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  BEYAN AND I TURNED and ran down the corridor, leaving Taryn behind us screaming for the guards. It wasn’t long before we heard several boots running after us, and a gruff male voice yelling, “Stop!”

  We had a good head start, but hampered by our heavy wedding finery, we would soon lose our lead. “Where should we go?” Beyan said.

  “I have no idea!”

  “It’s your castle!”

  He had a point.

  Passing my mother’s rooms, we skidded around the corner and kept running.

  “Jennica!” Beyan huffed behind me. “We can’t just run back to the courtyard. They’ll catch us for sure.”

  To my right were the doors to King Hendon’s rooms. There was the large ornate door that opened into the king’s bedroom; nearby was the smaller, plain door to the bedroom’s antechamber.

  The guards’ footsteps echoed off the stone floor — they would be upon us soon. Frantically, I flung open the antechamber door, my relief palpable when it opened easily at my touch. Beyan crowded into the room after me, and I shut the door as quietly as I could in my haste, quickly reciting a spell to magically seal the lock.

  The spell took hold just in time.

  We could hear the guards outside, their voices muffled through the heavy wooden doors.

  “Should we check the king’s rooms?” one guard asked.

  Beyan instinctively reached for his sword, realizing belatedly that, per wedding protocol, he wasn’t carrying it. He reached down and pulled out a hidden dagger in his boot.

  “You know you were supposed to turn in all your weapons!” I hissed into his ear.

  “And aren’t you glad I don’t always follow orders?” he smirked in a barely audible voice.

  The handle of the antechamber door rattled, but held firm.

  There was muffled cursing from the guard who was nearest the door. “It’s locked. As is the other door.”

  A second guard, a little further away, snorted. “If you want to break into the king’s rooms to search, be my guest. It’s your head.”

  The guard by our room stepped away. “No, you’re right. They must have kept running, there’s no way they could have gotten through a locked door.”

  Their footsteps echoed down the hallway as they continued their search. Finally, all was quiet.

  Beyan said softly, “Good job on the locking spell.”

  “Thanks.” I exhaled, trying to still my frantically beating heart. “Do you think it’s safe to leave now?”

  “I think so, but let’s wait a little bit. Just to give them time to look around and give up for good. Do you think they got a good look at us?”

  “I hope not. But if we could disguise ourselves, that might help.”

  Turning to the curtained windows, I flung them open, sneezing from the dust that flicked off the curtains as I moved them. “Maybe we can find something in here while we wait.”

  Sunlight streamed in. Outside, we could see the revelry continuing below. Inside, the light from the window angled across the floor, through an open doorway that led into the king’s bedroom.

  Following the ray of light, I found myself staring through the doorway, drawn to explore the room beyond. Now that the danger had passed, another feeling had surfaced. Something in King Hendon’s room was calling to me. Something magical. Something... kindred.

  Beyan was rifling through a chest, examining musty clothes and shaking out a pair of pants. Doubtfully, he held up a linen tunic that had probably been in fashion in my grandfather’s day. “If we can’t find anything else, I guess this will do.” He caught my mesmerized expression. “Uh. Princess?”

  I didn’t respond as I followed my instincts into Hendon’s bedroom. The room was lush and ostentatious — much like its owner. I crossed the room to an ornate chest of jewelry, wondering if perhaps what I was sensing was Hendon’s ruby soulstone. But I found nothing unusual. Disappointed, I closed the chest, although I knew that Hendon wasn’t stupid enough to leave behind the soulstone he prized so highly.

  Beyan appeared in the doorway between the antechamber and the king’s bedroom. His search had been successful. There were two short, hooded cloaks in his hands. “Jennica? What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, turning around and around, trying to find the source of my discomfort. “There’s something here. I don’t know what, but it wants me to find it.”

  Blindly reaching out, I ran my hands along one of the walls of the bedroom. Then another. Then —

  “Here. It’s here.”

  Noting the urgency in my voice, Beyan dropped the cloaks by the door and stepped quickly to my side. I continued to run my hands over the wall, frustrated that I couldn’t just break through to find out what was hidden inside. Beyan joined me, searching the wall on the opposite end.

  My fingers found a very small catch, so minute it seemed like a chink in the stone wall. Flipping the latch, I gasped when a small panel noiselessly slid open to reveal a hidden recessed are
a.

  I hastily called up some light, bringing the magical sphere closer to the wall.

  Before us was a myriad of glass vials with cork stoppers, holding various amounts of colored liquid. I drew the light closer to the vials. The liquid in the vials sparked in the glow of my magical light as they changed from blue to green to red to gold. Most vials were labeled, although some were unmarked. Darya. Petan. Sava.

  Sava.

  Horrified, I stepped back, trying not to retch.

  “What is all of that?” Beyan asked, uncomprehending.

  I forced myself to speak, although my breath was coming in fast pants as I fought my rising panic. “It’s... it’s magical essence. The people in the dungeons... he’s been experimenting on them, somehow stealing their magical power and taking it for his own.”

  Beyan breathed a curse as he looked over all the vials. “There’s so many.”

  “All those people... some didn’t survive the experiments... the others he locked away. Maybe to take more from them in the future.”

  Beyan reached a hand out, intending to grab a vial for closer examination, but was stopped short by an invisible magical barrier. At the same time, a spark flew from the invisible wall and Beyan snatched his hand back, shaking it. “Ouch!”

  I felt I had seen enough — too much, really — but Beyan pulled my attention back to the hidden cache. “Jennica, there’s something else in there.”

  “There is?” I stepped up to the wall again, joining Beyan where he peered intently inside. He was right: there was something beyond the vials, tucked away in a dark corner. I could just see it if I angled my light correctly. A brightly glowing, blood red jewel, it was a twin to Hendon’s soulstone.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  NOW FESTOONED WITH garlands and flowers for the wedding, the courtyard was packed with the lords and ladies of the Gifted Lands, their voices buzzing in excitement. Part of the excitement was from the all-day party that they had attended; part of it was from being involved in one of the biggest events that was happening in the Gifted Lands in recent history. Not just a royal wedding, but an alliance between two of the Kingdoms! Such a thing had never occurred before.

 

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