The Might of Magic

by N M Zoltack

  Simba, thankfully, was a man of few words, and he merely fed Edmund without having to be asked, not that Edmund thought he could stomach his pride enough to ask in the first place.

  “How do you feel?” Simba finally asked once Edmund had eaten all but the dregs.

  “I feel…”

  It was a good question, a very good one. Hoenstly, Edmund felt as if all of the strength had fled his body. His limbs felt as if they were shaking, which was not actually the case, and his thoughts were slow, almost as slow as his moments.

  “I will be fine,” Edmund murmured, and he hoped and prayed to the Fates that had not been a lie.

  Simba did not flash his wide smile, and he rubbed his long nose before feeding Edmund another spoonful. The knight whose skin was the shade of ebony had to tilt the bowl to get the last bit onto the spoon.

  “They should have brought you some bread,” Simba said.

  “Carved a boar in my honor,” Edmund jested breathlessly even though he did not feel capable of a celebration at the moment.

  Simba ran a hand over his bald head. “You deserve our gratitude.”

  “I did nothing that anyone else would have done,” he protested.

  “Aye, no doubt, but no one else could have.” Simba appraised him but asked no question.

  Footsteps sounded, and Edmund shifted on the bench to see a guard approaching.

  “You are Edmund Hill, are you not? Edmund Hill, Slayer of Dragons?”

  “Dragon,” Edmund corrected. “I only slew the one.”

  “But it was you?” the guard pressed.

  “Aye, it was me,” Edmund said, almost feeling as if he had just admitted to a grievous sin.

  “Follow me.”

  Edmund wrinkled his nose, but the guard was already marching away.

  Simba moved to help Edmund up. Edmund shook away his assistance, and for his pride, he stumbled as he attempted to lift his leg over the bench. He grimaced and let out a low groan before managing to straighten on both legs.

  The guard glanced over his shoulder and halted, waiting for Edmund to walk over to him. Every step was awkward as Edmund felt stiff, and he halted after a moment.

  “Simba,” he called, “would you be willing to fetch a squire—”

  “You want out of your armor?” Simba asked.

  Edmund nodded.

  Although it was beneath him, Simba came over and helped Edmund. Even the guard assisted. Their armor was actually light enough for them to be able to jog or even full-out run for short distances if need be. It used to be that a knight could not adorn himself in his armor without a squire or a page to aid him, but as the armor became lighter while maintaining its durability against blades, it also became possible for the knights to armor themselves.

  But Edmund was stiff and sore and weak, and he appreciated their assistance greatly.

  That task done, Edmund was able to walk a bit better beside the guard, and it wasn’t until they left the mess hall that Edmund realized he had left the armor for Simba to tend to. He would have to repay the knight for his kindness in some fashion. Perhaps with an ale…

  Thinking of the drink reminded Edmund of the hotel and his brother and his brother’s death… and his brother’s wife.

  The potion had worked. It had enabled him to slay the dragon.

  But would he recover his strength, his natural strength, in time?

  Even if he did not, it would have been worth the sacrifice. Even if the aftereffects of the potion killed him, he would not regret consuming that potion for the strength it gave him.

  The guard lead Edmund through the castle, down halls and up the stairs twice, before stopping in front of a small door. After knocking twice, the guard opened the door.

  “The knight, My Queen.”

  Queen Rosalynne stood from sitting at a small table. Her eyes brightened. “Edmund! I might have known it had been you! Do come in. Thank you, Wilfrid.”

  “I will be just outside if you have need of me.”

  “Thank you.” She nodded to the guard, who shut the door, and she waved for Edmund to sit across from her. He did so gratefully, dropping down into the seat less than gracefully, but the queen didn’t seem to notice. “Do you mind if I ask how you accomplished slaying the dragon?”

  “A potion.”

  “A potion? From…”

  He blinked a few times, confused. Who else but Tatum would give him a potion?

  “Ah, Tatum,” he murmured.

  The queen smiled then, and maybe it was because Edmund was not quite himself, but he thought she looked a little relieved.

  “Wonderful. Wonderful. You… Edmund… Sir Edmund, forgive me.”

  “You may address me by my given name,” he protested.

  “Oh, no. You earned your title, but…” She tapped a long, thin finger to her cheek. “When we are alone as we are now, you may call me Rosalynne.”

  “No. You earned your title as well.”

  She appeared to wish to argue with him, but she merely shrugged. “You look as if you need to rest. Please, do so. I will have Wilfred find you a room.”

  “Is there space?”

  “If there is not, he will see to it that space is made.”

  “I would… appreciate that,” Edmund said.

  “Wonderful,” she repeated as she stood. “All of Tenoch, nay, all of Dragoona is in your debt, Sir Edmund. If there is anything I can do for you, you need only ask.”

  She curtsied to him and walked over to the door and explained everything to the guard.

  Edmund clumsily got to his feet. As much as he should rest, he felt as if he should be outside, helping with the injured and the dead. Even more so, he wished to locate Tatum, to speak to her.

  The queen turned back to Edmund. “Do you know where Tatum is?”

  “She is not here in the castle? I thought she might have…”

  “No. The healers are doing what they can with the few potions they have left from our dwindling supplies, and they have their own pastes and such they can use, but she is not here. Do not fret. We will locate her. Mayhap she can make more potions such as the one you used? I take it was a new potion?”

  Edmund nodded dully. If he thought himself torn between his heart and his duty before, that was nothing compared to how he felt now. He longed to forgo sleep so he could go find Tatum, but his kingdom had need of him, and he must recover his strength as quickly as possible.

  If that feat was indeed possible.

  24

  The One True Queen Rosalynne Rivera

  It seemed that the moment Edmund shuffled away from the room, Vivian approached Rosalynne. The queen had been shocked to see how utterly worn and even defeated the knight had looked, but Vivian was quite a sight too, her dark hair all wild and crazy, her dark blue eyes appearing much the same.

  Rosalynne ushered her inside and shut the door so only the two of them were inside. Then, she squeezed her sister for a tight hug even though she wished to shake her.

  “You… I thought you might not return for another day or two! How is it that you were able to leave and venture all the way to… Did you even reach Olac?” Rosalynne asked.

  Vivian waved her hands so harshly that Rosalynne’s arms were brushed aside, and that was when Rosalynne realized Vivian hadn’t returned the embrace.

  “Did you order the attack on the dragons?” Vivian asked, her words coming out fast and clipped.

  “I… Yes. I…” Why was Vivian acting as if that had been in err? “We had to defend ourselves. Were we to merely stand aside and allow the dragons to destroy the castle all around us?”

  “Did you tell the knights to kill it?” Vivian asked.

  “I… I… I do not recall what exactly it was that I had said—”

  “This is important!” Vivian shouted. Her sister was positively agitated and frantic.

  Rosalynne could only watch as Vivian began to pace in the small room. Her hand was on the hilt of her sword, and Rosalynne could not help but feel a
little alarmed and even frightened by her sister. Seeing Vivian in such state left Rosalynne quite worried herself.

  “I honestly do not recall my exact words,” Rosalynne said. “What does it matter if I asked the knights to kill the dragons or not? I’ve had fashioned a harpoon with that purpose in mind, but the dragons destroyed the platform it was built upon. I’ve spoken with the—”

  Vivian halted and threw up her hands. “Your exact order. I must know it.”

  “I simply do not recall,” Rosalynne stated.

  Again, Vivian’s right hand fell to her hilt.

  The door opened. Wilfred popped his head in, his expression contrite and sheepish. “I must apologize for the interruption, but the advisor wishes to speak with you immediately.”

  “Which one?” Rosalynne asked.

  “Aldus Perez.”

  “He can wait,” Rosalynne said with a wave of her hand, noting the flicker of extreme dislike crossing Vivian’s face at the mention of the man. She grinned at her sister, whose expression softened, but only for a moment.

  Something was very wrong. Had Vivian learned something about the dragons that meant they should not be killed again? What had that light pillar meant?

  Wilfred coughed into his hand. “I, ah, do not think you should delay this meeting.”

  Rosalynne hesitated. “I am speaking with my sister…”

  “Go,” Vivian snapped. “You do not recall your order, so you’re…”

  “What?” Rosalynne asked icily. “I’m useless? Is that what you were going to say?”

  Vivian said nothing at all.

  Rosalynne stepped up to Vivian and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I ask for respect.”

  “Because of that crown on your head?”

  “Because I am your sister.”

  Vivian opened and then shut her mouth. “Who would have heard your order that I can ask them for it?”

  “Why do you need… Ah, I initially gave orders for the people… once the knights came… I address… Emerson Fenne. Do you know him? He’s a muscular man, the constable who lords over the knights. He used to be on Sabine’s council.”

  “And is on yours now?” Vivian asked.

  “Ah… I suppose he might be. I should have had him on my council all alone.”

  “But you two did not share council members. Save for one. The one who wishes to speak with you.”

  “We do not share Aldus Perez in any fashion,” Rosalynne said sharply. “Did you not hear—”

  “I heard. Sabine’s council is no more, hmm?”

  “She is dead to me,” Rosalynne hissed, “but we will speak more on this later. Wilfred, won’t you locate Emerson Fenne for my sister? She wishes to speak with him.”

  “Certainly, but first, My Queen…”

  Rosalynne turned to go, but Vivian’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.

  Rosalynne glanced over her shoulder and smiled as she patted her sister’s hand. Vivian still appeared on edge and alarmed, but some of her urgency and agency had diminished at least.

  “Lead me to Aldus,” Rosalynne informed her guard.

  I suppose.

  25

  Rase Ainsley

  The last guy, Mac Beatha, Rase wasn’t sure where exactly to find him, but he hoped that when he did, the goon wouldn’t have magic like Nuno had. That… Well, now that Rase wasn’t in mortal danger, he no longer felt terrified, and he even thought that magic had been rather impressive.

  Why couldn’t he have magic? Rase wouldn’t use it to try to kill someone. No, he would use it so that he and Leanne could get out of here and make a new life for themselves. Maybe then he would feel safe enough to allow her to wait to get married until she found someone to love and who loved her back. Someone who truly loved her, not like that worthless son of an earl who only pretended to love Maxene.

  But was love worth it? Honestly, Rase didn’t think so. Ma and Pa loved each other, but Pa had a lot of problems. He had gambled too much, and he lost everything. They had a farm, supposedly, not that Rase had ever seen it. He thought they had lost the farm before he had been born anyway. Lost it. Gambled away. At least that was how Rase remembered from what his pa had told him. It hadn’t been a very fun time for Rase, learning about all of his pa’s weaknesses and failings.

  But even hearing that story hadn’t been enough for Rase to not be weak himself. Rase had made plenty of mistakes, too many of them in fact. He’d made a lot of enemies, stolen from people just like his pa had, had forced people to do this or that so that he wouldn’t expose their secrets…

  And it was coming back to haunt him.

  Where was Mac Beatha? Most of the shops were closed up. Hardly anyone was walking about. Atlan was dying.

  “How am I going to find him?”

  “Find who, son?” an older man asked, stepping out from some business Rase never paid much attention to.

  Rase scowled at him. “I’m not your son.”

  “No, but maybe your mother should’ve taught you some manners.”

  “My ma did, but I don’t bother to use them on people who shove their big noses into my business. Stay out of it.”

  The older man nodded. “Fine. Suit yourself, but I must say, I’ve been seeing a guard wandering about. You might want to put that bloodied blade away if I were you.”

  “I can make it disappear real quick,” Rase said, thinking the man’s stomach might be a good hiding spot, but then he shrugged. “It’s just blood from a hare, that’s all.”

  “Sure it is… boy.”

  “Don’t you worry, old man,” a smooth voice said. An arm draped around Rase’s shoulder. “I’ll just take my son, and—”

  Rase reacted without thought. He shoved his blade deep into Mac Beatha’s stomach and twisted the handle. Then, for good measure, since this goon had been the only one of the three to not have a visible scar, Rase yanked out the blade and slashed the man’s cheek and then his other cheek.

  Mac Beatha gurgled a bit, reaching for Rase.

  The street rat stepped to the side, and the goon collapsed.

  The older man slowly shifted his gaze from the dead body to Rase.

  Rase shrugged. “People should stop calling me ‘son’ when I’m not their son. My pa is dead.” He paused when he saw the shock of alarm cross the man’s features. “I didn’t kill my pa! I loved him! He just… He’s not here anymore. I… I need him… My sister too…”

  “What’s all the commotion over here?” a loud voice called.

  Panicked, Rase shoved his dagger away and glanced over to see a guard approaching.

  “Go,” the older man said. “Take care of your sister by maybe actually hunting for hares, eh?”

  Rase nodded grateful and rushed away, able to hear part of the conversation in which the man proclaimed that a man taller than himself had argued with the dead guy, and they fought and the one killed the other. When he spied the guard… And that was all Rase heard.

  But he also heard the older man’s advice. It was time for him to return to the house and collect Leanne. If Rase continued to go on down this path, if he went after the baron, he might be the one to fall. No, he wouldn’t continue to make poor choices as his pa had and had ultimately caused his pa his life.

  So Rase raced away from all of that old life, and although it took him a great deal of time, he eventually burst through the door to the house he’d secured for the two of them.

  Only he was the only one inside.

  Once again, his sister was gone.

  26

  Advisor Aldus Perez

  The advisor to a king and then to not one but two kings waited patiently for the young queen to enter the room the guard had placed Aldus in while he went off to fetch the queen. Aldus was not surprised at all that the queen took her time coming to see him. Honestly, that did not bother him in the slightest. She would learn to not ignore him. Yes, this was the first time he had ever summoned her like this, but she would forgive him, and she would start to even trust him
as she should have long ago.

  The door opened, and Aldus turned slight. The queen had arrived, and the guard lingered in the open doorway.

  “Send him away,” Aldus suggested.

  “I will not,” she declared boldly, lifting her chin, daring him to defy her.

  “My Queen, what I must tell you… show you… is for your eyes only.”

  Rosalynne did not scowl. Other than her eyebrows slightly coming together, she did not reveal any emotion.

  Aldus turned to fully face her, his arms spread out defenselessly before bringing his hands together.

  The queen nodded to the guard, and he shut the door, but most likely, he remained there, his ear pressed against the door.

  Aldus stepped forward and took Rosalynne’s hands in his. Forward, yes, but he needed her to realize he was being most serious about this.

  “You must be careful,” he said, squeezing her hands and then releasing them.

  Before she could react, he turned around and lifted an object from the box behind him.

  Even he had to inhale deeply before he faced her once more, and he revealed that he held Tabes in his arms.

  The dog was dead.

  Rosalynne’s hands trembled, and she brushed his back with one hand, the other on his forehead. She said not a word, but her teary eyes begged the question she dare not speak.

  “I do not know for certain,” he said, picking his words carefully, “but I think we both know who might be behind this.”

  Her eyes darkened, a most impressive feat considering how dark her eyes were normally.

  “Speak plainly for once,” Rosalynne snapped as she snatched Tabes and cradled the dog in her arms.

  “Sabine,” Aldus uttered. “She is no longer queen, I know, and I believe she remains in the castle, yes? She had the means… the motive. To be removed from power…”

  Rosalynne’s eyes flashed, and she lifted her chin once more. “How do I know you did not do this?” she hissed.

  “My Queen.” Aldus pressed his hands to his chest and bowed his head. He did not move from that position until he heard the door open and shut, and as he lifted his head, he smiled.