The Might of Magic

by N M Zoltack

  A rolled-up portrait of the previous royals, Yijun and Melitta Li.

  Aldus studied the portrait. Yijun had black hair cut very close to his head. His nose was small at the top and spread out wider at the bottom. His lips were full but a bit pale. His eyebrows were bushy and perhaps a bit too hairy, but his cheeks and chin and upper lip were all bare from hair. Black eyes. His face was shaped more like a rectangle than any other shape.

  Melitta had a full, oval face with dark arched eyebrows and a sloped nose. Dark eyes, a thin upper lip but a fuller lower one. Her nose was perhaps a bit wider than most and she appeared strong and capable and regal even in painted form. Her hair, a light brown color, had been twisted into an elaborate if ridiculous style piled atop her head.

  Now, the Li Princess, who would she feature?

  A most strange feeling washed over Aldus. He couldn’t explain what was happening to him. His hands began to feel as if they had turned to ice, and then his head began to ache. It felt as if someone had taken an ice pick to his brain behind his eyes…

  And then the feeling disappeared, and in its place, Aldus could clearly see a vision of the Li princess. How he knew it was she, he could not say, but he could see that she had straight black hair, like her father’s only so very long. Her lips were her father’s too, but her face shape was a full oval like her mother’s, and she shared her mothers’ eyebrows as well, but her nose was smaller than either parent’s. She sported dark eyes like her parents as well as high cheekbones.

  Aldus blinked his eyes, and the vision of the Li princess faded away, yet the image was seared into his brain.

  If he saw her, he would know who she was.

  But what had that been? Could it have been magic? What else might it have been?

  His hands did not stop trembling as he curled up the portrait. Instead, he recalled the moment during the Castle Conquest when he had left Rosalynne’s side and gone into his room. He had witnessed the dragon fall, had seen the light stretch up to the sky, had observed as the light shattered apart…

  And he had felt one of those shattered bits of light hit straight into him.

  The dragon had died and shattered into magic.

  And because a shard had struck him, he had magic now.

  Aldus smiled like never before. Finally, it seemed as if the Fates had taken notice of him, and he could not be more pleased about this turn of events.

  38

  Princess Vivian Rivera

  The old dragons. Love, hope, faith.

  The new dragons. Hatred, despair, doubt.

  What had turned the old dragons into the new ones? Had it been merely the act of them all being dead for a millennium and a half? Or did it have to do with humanity’s lack of love, hope, and faith?

  There certainly seemed to be a great deal of hatred, despair, and doubt in the world today.

  How? How could Vivian change that balance? Was that even possible?

  For the people to shed their doubt, they needed something or someone to have faith in.

  For the people to shed their despair, they needed the wars to end.

  For the people to shed their hatred, they must feel, sense, or witness love.

  Or maybe something similar enough to love.

  Hmm…

  It was the middle of the night. Vivian should be fast asleep, but she did as she had most nights—spent only a few hours in bed and the rest of the time, she would do various training drills with just her body weight. Once the sun rose, then she would do some more drills, this time with either her sword or dagger or a spear.

  Vivian eased her door open and slipped down the hall. Wilfred did not stand outside Rosalynne’s bedchambers. Instead, the guard was Tiberius Davis, a guard Vivian recalled her brother had not liked.

  She scowled at the guard, who blinked his watery eyes, but she ignored him and opened the door to her sister’s bedchambers.

  At once, Rosalynne sat up. “Vivian? Is that you?”

  “Yes. Are you that light of a sleeper? The door made hardly a sound!”

  “Or I wasn’t asleep,” Rosalynne murmured. “I just climbed into bed a few minutes ago.”

  “Roz, you need sleep.”

  “You know I don’t prefer it when you call me that.”

  Vivian shrugged and offered a small smile as she crossed over to sit on the edge of her sister’s bed. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t yell at me the last time I called you that.”

  “If I hadn’t, then I should’ve.” Her sister covered her mouth as she yawned. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  “Too much on the brain, and… Rosalynne…”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve brokered peace with Marcellus. Prince Marcellus.”

  “Do we know another Marcellus?” Rosalynne asked dryly. “And how in the world did you manage that? How can this be?”

  The disbelief in her tone only made Vivian smile all the more. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes,” Rosalynne said without hesitating, “but it’s you I trust, not him.”

  “You do not need to worry,” Vivian said firmly. “Everything will work out, and there will be peace. There will be hope and faith again, and that’s all we need.”

  Yes, yes, it made sense that the one to have died first was hatred. Vivian felt that spurt of hatred earlier, but now, now she felt only wonder and hope. This must be the proper course of action in order to revert the dragons back to their former selves!

  Of course, even if they did revert, if they could change back and forth between despair and hope and doubt and faith, then it was possible that peace could be had for only a short while.

  But still, first things first. Vivian was going to force an alliance between the two continents.

  And, if everything went according to plan, that peace would be had for many long years to come.

  The alliance would not be a temporary measure.

  “Everything will work out,” Vivian repeated.

  “I do hope you are right,” Rosalynne murmured.

  “Hold onto that hope,” Vivian advised. “Now, you need to sleep.”

  “And you?” Rosalynne called as Vivian stood and headed for the door.

  “I have a bit more work to do,” Vivian said, “but don’t you worry. I will sleep soon.”

  Vivian shut the door and shrugged to herself. She’d lied about brokering peace and about sleeping soon.

  Well, they weren’t complete mistruths. Vivian would broker peace. She merely hadn’t yet, and as for sleep? Well, Vivian could sleep once she was dead. Fates willing, that would be a long time hence.

  39

  Bjorn Ivano

  Sabotage. When Bjorn had asked Olympia what he could do to earn her trust, he never would have thought sabotage would be what she would settle on, but she had.

  During the entire trek back to the village the Vincanans had overtaken, Bjorn had thought long and hard. The Vincanans would be smart. They would not have all of their weapons housed together for him to steal or to attempt to misplace them or even destroy them.

  One method of sabotage would be to go after their food supplies, to burn it all to the ground, leaving their warriors weak and hungry. This idea, though, Bjorn also ended up discarding because their food supplies truly belonged to the citizens who lived there, so Bjorn could hardly do that.

  Still, a fire might remain a solid bet. All he would have to do would be to find a way to kill the king and the prince. Yes, it would mean two deaths, but two deaths were far more preferable versus all those who would be lost until this bloody and pointless war ended. If he were able to get them separated from the others…

  Just how many did the Vincanan army account for here on Tenoch soil? That Bjorn did not know, and worse, he was not even familiar with this town, which meant that was going to prove an almost impossible task.

  Almost impossible. Which meant slightly possible. Bjorn would handle this. He had to. If it were the only way for Olympia to forgive him, to accept him as… well, not as an equa
l but as an ally… He would do anything for that. Her forgiveness meant Bjorn could forgive himself.

  He had overstepped by killing that peasant man. Bjorn hadn’t realized that at the time, but he had been wrong. The merchant, the others in the crowd, they all said the man had stolen from them, but it had been food, not coins. He had stolen for his family to survive.

  Bjorn did not know what it must have been like for that family, for them to have so little that the man of the house… did they even have a house?

  That family, how were they faring with the war, with the dragons? Bjorn did not think he could bring himself to locate them, so he would do what he could from afar. Olympia would set everything back to the way it should be. The crown would care about each and every person, not merely the nobles. Rosalynne was doing what she could, Bjorn assumed, but she was not doing enough. Perhaps even despite what he had done had not served to open her eyes enough to the plight of the poor who lived within the shadow of the castle. What about those far from Atlan? What about those in the islands?

  The man shook his head and continued toward the village. He would study the houses and locate the Vincanans and go from there. Bjorn would succeed. He had no other choice.

  40

  Olympia Li

  Desperation seized Olympia. She must locate her twin. Did he even know his destiny, his parents? Did he even know about her?

  Even if he had been raised ignorant of his upbringing, whichever servant had stayed with him to spirit him away to safety would know. Considering the rumors that the Li princess had returned to Atlan were spreading about like wildfire, she hoped the servant would reach out to her.

  But it was possible, perhaps even likely, that the servant might be dead.

  As had her.

  Dong Han. She closed her eyes briefly, and she could recall every detail of his face. Pale skin. Dark hair. A mole under his left eye.

  “I was in the room with your mother when she gave birth to you and to your brother,” she could hear him say in her mind.

  “Who was born first?” Olympia asked each time he would repeat the story to her.

  “You had been. Only two minutes older, though. No one knew that your mother carried two babies within her, not one.”

  “You said her pregnancy had been difficult.”

  “So much pain. So much sickness. She had been a strong woman, a proud one. She took her duties as queen very seriously, but throughout her pregnancy, she could not do much at all. Whatever she ate or drank, her stomach would simply reject, and she grew so very tired and weak.”

  “We robbed her strength away,” Olympia whispered now. She had climbed up to the roof of the tavern as she had no coins in which to pay for a room. No bed for her, but the view was rather breathtaking. The nighttime sky seemed so very peaceful, unlike the turmoil, fear, and worry lingering in the hearts of men and women. At times, she could swear she felt the emotions of others, as if their despair was an agent similar to the wind.

  Despite the dragons, despite the queens walled up in Atlan castle, despite everything to the contrary, Olympia clung to hope.

  The sky appeared like a black velvet blanket speckled with the stars as shining, shimmering jewels. Olympia could almost imagine a gown just like that, black with white jewels all over it, and perhaps a purple trim or a purple sash, given that the Li family crest was a plum tree on a black background with white six pointed stars in the corners.

  Perhaps she could be crowned in such a gown.

  If she were to be crowned.

  Just like that, her thoughts and happiness and hope all darkened and dimmed, as if the stars alight within herself had been extinguished, and she grimaced.

  “One day, you will rule,” Dong Han told her. “I long to see that day.”

  “But the people do not know me. They do not even know I exist!”

  “But they will come to know you, and they will love you. You will serve them well.”

  “But if I am to be queen, won’t they serve me?”

  “Ah, but your father knew this, as did your mother. To serve another is how one can truly lead.”

  “King Jankin…”

  “He took the throne through force. He leads through a measure of fear, but you can command the people’s respect.”

  Olympia shook her head as tears welled in her eyes. Dong Han had sought for Olympia to lead as her parents had, but if the people had respected the king and queen, then none would have allowed Jankin Rivera to come to Atlan castle so as to murder the royals.

  Perhaps her parents had not commanded enough respect, but Olympia commanded exact zero. No one respected her. Perhaps Bjorn, but he was right. She had no plan, and she could not do this alone. Even with Bjorn’s help, she needed at least one other ally.

  She needed her brother.

  Dong Han shook his head. “I barely had time to hear your brother cry and to see that he was indeed your brother and not your sister before I fled the room with you in my arms. You barely cried at all, and you tried to look around. So very strong from even those first few moments! Your mother would be proud of you.”

  Proud of Olympia for what exactly? No army, no force…

  But Olympia did not wish for war. She wanted the wars to end.

  As long as the dragons flew, could there ever be peace? These dragons, there was something about them that called to Olympia. They felt pain, she somehow knew, and she understood that pain. The people had betrayed her. Every day that she did not wear a crown, the people betrayed her anew.

  It pained Olympia to admit this, but she did not even think of herself as a princess. The Lis had ruled for generations, and yet, she felt as if she were an outcast.

  “Will I ever see my brother again?” Olympia asked Dong Han.

  “You will, yes.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “When the time is right, you will know.”

  “But how will I find him? How will I know that he is my brother?”

  “As the elder, as the heir, I took you all the way here to Xalac so you could be safe from any prying eyes, from any who wish to finish what Jankin started.”

  “And my brother?”

  “He is safe.”

  “Where?”

  “I do not know where.”

  “If you do not know, how will I be able to find him?” she cried.

  Dong Han merely smiled and tapped her heart.

  When exactly had Olympia become convinced her brother was in Atlan castle? It made sense, did it not, for him to have been kept hidden in plain sight, yes?

  But what if that had not been the case? What if he had been brought to Vincana? What if he had been raised within a family that was not his own? What if he thought he had a family to be loyal to, a family that was not his own, not of his blood?

  But what did make a family? Could a family be forged through something other than blood? A man and a woman could fall in love, marry, and start their own family, have children with their combined blood, but what if the husband and wife have no children? Are the two of them still a family?

  In a way, had she and Bjorn formed a family?

  No, that was ridiculous. There was kinship, there, no doubt, but she was not even certain if they were friends. At times, yes, she enjoyed his company, and the way he had been when he had been sick, and she had to tend to him…

  Could a person truly change for the better? Could a man learn from his mistakes and grow and change?

  Bjorn seemed to wish to be there for her, and he had travel leagues to bring her here. If only he had never told her what he had done!

  Why had he? What had been his motivation?

  Simple. He thought she would believe in him as he had come to believe in her.

  And what did she do? Sent him off to sabotage the Vincanans. One man against how many? And there were innocents in the town. She had no notion as to how Bjorn could accomplish the task she had laid out for him.

  Deep down, had she wished for him to fail? To be c
aught?

  What if the Vincanans captured him and sought to hold him ransom against the queens? Rosalynne did not wish to see Bjorn again. The Vincanans would see fit to kill him, then.

  Could Bjorn somehow survive? Even if he failed at the sabotage, could he endure to return to her side?

  Olympia found herself hoping for just that, but until then, she would do what she must, and at the moment, that meant locating her twin brother.

  He might be within the castle. She would check there. If he were not there, then she could look elsewhere. Dong Han had truly believed she would find her brother.

  He had also been steadfast in his belief that he would see her on the throne.

  He had died before that could happen, but it still might.

  Perhaps if she willed it to be, the Fates—and the dragons—would allow it to come to pass.

  41

  Bjorn Ivano

  For roughly thirty-six hours now, Bjorn had slipped around the town unnoticed. He knew the general layout of it, and he had also seen both the king and the prince.

  For now, the two remained far enough out of reach that Bjorn knew better than to make an attempt at assassinating even just one of them.

  His mind was a bit of a wasteland at the moment from lack of sleep and mulling over and discarding plan after plan. He wandered over to the tavern, and he climbed the vines growing along one side until he reached a window. Bjorn shifted the flattened animal hide enough to see that this room was occupied, and he shifted over to another vine and another window until he finally found a room that had no person inside.

  The bed was lumpy, and he highly suspected it infested with bugs, but Bjorn was so tired that he slept and slept and slept. When he woke, the moon was high, and he grinned. It was time for him to go to work.

  The village was a small one such that it had only a single guard from Tenoch. There was no barracks, no armory, no blacksmith. Not one building that housed a great deal of weapons, and the Vincanans kept their blades on their persons. Bjorn could not do anything to disarm them.