The High Lord (Legends of Trianon: Starla Book 2)

by J. A. Comley

  Horrified, she watched the four creatures approach. They appeared androgynous in shape, skeletal, and their skin, grey and melted. In some places, the grey skin was completely gone, exposing the charred bone beneath. One looked small enough to have been an adolescent. Their white, blind eyes turned in synchronisation to the cage.

  “Amulet,” the tallest drodemion said, a black sash tied around its waist. Its voice seemed to rattle up through its chest. The skin hanging in molten strips over its mouth barely moved. Its arm extended towards Starla.

  “How did it know?” breathed Starla, automatically clutching at her Star through the thin fabric of the dress.

  Gaby turned her gaze on Starla. The hatred and anger in her eyes burned so fiercely that Starla half expected to find herself on fire. Then it all vanished. The violet eyes became dead and hopeless, the stone face crumpling. Starla shuddered at the emptiness.

  “That thing was probably a Makhi, Brosney, or Inagium before Kyron corrupted its mind and body. Or perhaps some other sort of magical creature from another galaxy. He arrived here with a small army already.” Her voice was just as empty as her eyes, as if nothing mattered any more. “Now, it is just a slave, a drodemion shaman. All the magic it possessed is Kyron's to control. It serves its purpose by detecting magical stores in objects and people, able to use its own magic only as Kyron commands.”

  A memory now sliced through her mind of Larkel’s father taking a curse that had left him as nothing more than the creature now pointing at her.

  “Take that one,” the magmus hissed, flicking its tail in Starla's direction. The drodemions were moving forward before it had finished.

  “Now, wait a minute,” a grobbler grumbled uneasily, the keys to the cage in one hand and his small club in the other. “What about our payment?”

  One part of Starla's mind noted that it was the same grobbler who had tricked her into coming here, the other watched in helpless silence as the drodemions didn't stop, moving forward until they were right outside the cage. The shaman raised its hands mechanically and placed them across the bars of the cage. Instantly the metal glowed red then, more slowly, began to melt away.

  “And now, Kyron will have everything he needs. Unbeatable, unstoppable, for all time,” Gaby moaned, her voice breaking in disbelief and horror. She gripped her white curls as if about to rip them from her head.

  “Enough. Stop feeling sorry for yourself!” Starla yelled. She strained away from the drodemion as it reached into the cage. It ignored her, merely touching the floor of the cage where her chains were connected. “Gaby, look at me! You don’t get to give up.” Starla growled.

  Gaby didn't raise her head. Starla's chain snapped up from the floor of the cage and flew behind the drodemion, which rose slowly and turned away. Starla gasped as she saw that the chain had melded itself seamlessly into the drodemion's back.

  In a last-ditch effort, Starla swallowed her fear and rolled on to her knees towards the drodemion, using the brief slack on her bonds to toss the Star to Gaby before she was dragged out behind the drodemion shaman as it began moving back towards the magmus.

  The drodemion froze then turned back to the cage. “Amulet,” it rattled, pointing at Gaby's feet.

  “Pick it up,” hissed the magmus, its hot breath burning as it lowered its great head to Starla's face.

  “No,” Starla spat defiantly even as she cringed away from the blistering breath. She remembered what she had read in that book in Larkel's office. No one else could touch the amulet. She was sure the book had been right. The Sacrileons hadn't when she had first met them, Larkel hadn't, only using magic, and Gaby just stared at it now, lying at her feet touching her chains.

  The magmus snapped its jaws an inch from her face, each of its yellowed fangs as long as her arm. Starla couldn't help the gasp of terror that slid through her clenched teeth.

  Without another word, the magmus shifted its burning gaze back to the fire. Flek burst into red flames as Starla watched, helplessly.

  “No! Stop! Please, no!” Gaby shrieked, snapping out of her stupor, tears running down her face.

  “Pick it up,” the magmus repeated.

  Starla deliberated for one horror-struck moment, Gaby's earlier words in her head, “This is a war. There is no time for friendship, no place for love.”

  Starla felt her teeth snap together. She turned back and scooped up the amulet.

  If she let Kyron destroy her friendships and eliminate love, then he would have already won.

  Gaby was rocking gently on her heels, shaking her head in denial. Whether it was denial over Flek's fate, or over her choice, Starla didn't know. She turned back to face the magmus, with hate-filled eyes.

  “Put it on,” it commanded, its gaze releasing Flek.

  Starla slid the chain over her neck and tucked the Star under her dress, looking back at Flek as she did so. The spindler was a whimpering heap on the ground, his blue feather charred down to the stub, his fur smouldering.

  But alive. He's alive.

  Starla's hand lingered over the Star, wishing that Larkel could get here in time to help her friends, at least. She would try to protect the Star when there was no one around for the magmus to torture.

  Please help them, she thought.

  “Let's go,” the magmus hissed at the drodemions, who began moving forward at a slow but relentless pace, dragging Starla behind them.

  “Wait! We want our reward! Our payment!” grunted the club-wielding grobbler, indignantly.

  A low growl slid out through the magmus's teeth, making Starla recoil instinctively, even though its gaze was trained on the grobbler. “The fact that you get to keep your worthless lives is reward enough,” it hissed.

  “Well, I don't—” The grobbler's protest was cut short as the magmus swung its tail around, sending the grobbler flying across the clearing. He landed, skewered to a tree branch, several meters off the ground.

  “W… w… what about the others?” a nervous grobbler stammered as the magmus opened its black wings.

  “Kill them,” it hissed, taking flight.

  “No!” Starla screamed. “Gaby! Gaby, snap out of it!” But Gaby remained crouched over her chains, rocking back and forth.

  Starla thought desperately for a solution, for a way to stall the grobblers, to give Larkel time to arrive, but no solution came to her. She kept shouting at Gaby, begging her to fight, to delay, to live, until the drodemions dragged her into the forest and the trees blocked the camp from view.

  Starla continued to fight against her bonds, tripping often as she continued to look behind her.

  Every time she did, the drodemion shaman would simply drag her along the rough ground until she managed to find her feet, not even pausing for a moment.

  A high-pitched scream filled with agony tore through the night air and pierced Starla's heart.

  “Gaby!” Starla shrieked, her throat a little raw. “No, no, no—” Her sobs choked her off.

  Suddenly, she felt the air whirl past her and knew they had moved by magic.

  Starla stumbled again, hearing her dress rip further as the drodemions dragged her relentlessly onward. Through tear-filled eyes, Starla looked beyond her captors and saw an abrupt end to the softly-glowing wood. Ahead lay a mass of impenetrable, solid black.

  ***

  The fear over Soreiaphin lore in the High Lord's heart had turned into a fierce, choking vine when he had arrived back from dealing with Corruptions to find Starla gone.

  “That bastard!” he accused, instantly, ignoring Eben's warning look. “He took her! The Baron, he took her!”

  Eltara had been Healed but had not been able to name her attacker, her memory of the attack offering no other clues.

  The King and High Commander had both shown their hesitancy to act on Larkel's belief alone but agreed that the Baron's house would be among the first searched if, and only if, Larkel agreed to go back to the throne room and wait.

  He had begged to do an aura Trace, but the Kin
g refused, claiming that Larkel was too personally involved.

  After many protests, the Baron had agreed to have his house searched by Captain Trent. As Larkel had suspected, the Captain came back empty-handed.

  Now, in the throne room of the palace, tensions were reaching a fever pitch. The inner circle of Galatia’s power were gathered around the thrones. All save High Commander D'Ordeley, who was out with her soldiers as they did a sweep of the city, looking for Starla.

  Larkel smiled ruefully as he remembered the Crown Prince cautioning him to be silent, not to throw wild accusations around. He sat beside his sister as they awaited Medara's return.

  “I don't understand, Naleiya,” Larkel said, for the tenth time. “I could feel her emotions, see her thoughts. She was going to wait for the guards. She would not have left without a good reason and not without telling me, first. Why?” he turned his agonised eyes to his sister. “Why would she leave without saying anything, even goodbye?”

  He let out a strange laugh as he realised that those were almost the exact same questions Starla imagined Raoul would have asked himself when she had disappeared from Earth.

  Had her Star swept her off somewhere again? He ran a hand through his dark hair, hating the fear and frustration building in his chest. Soreiaphin were so rare, so little known about them, it was almost impossible for him to say what her amulet could and could not achieve before the price for her true powers was paid. He had sent a desperate message to Highest Valana, begging her to search the Lightless Tree and all the arcane records it held. He knew Astria had done so as well, but he couldn’t just do nothing.

  Naleiya opened her mouth to comfort him again but stopped herself as her wife raced into the room. A clamour of panicked screams grew louder in the brief period that the big doors opened but continued to beat against the room's windows after the doors shut again. The roar of fear further drove up the tensions of the room.

  “What is going on out there?” demanded the King as soon as the Commander reached him.

  The High Commander shot a glance at Naleiya and Eltara, who had both been asked to stay despite not being members of the inner circle.

  The King gave a cursory nod, and Medara spoke, her voice showing strain. “I don't know how it happened, my King, but the citizens have been made aware of the disappearance of our Inagium Queen.”

  Naleiya sucked in a sharp breath and looked between her wife and brother in disbelief.

  Larkel briefly sent her the relevant memories, barely waiting for the King’s nod. To her credit, she resumed a calm expression and managed to still the fear in her mind. He turned his thoughts back to Starla as she bent to fill Eltara in.

  “Have you followed protocol?” the King demanded, grief tightening his voice.

  “Yes, my King. The Guard is out restoring order as we speak.” She cast a quick glance at her brother-in-law, who didn't appear to be listening. “I have also passed a message on to the Makhi's Council of Elders. They should be out in the city keeping things from escalating into violence.”

  “They are,” Naleiya said, eyes out of focus as she covered for Larkel, too. “Many of them wish to speak to you, sire.”

  “Of course. I will address the people as soon as our meeting here is adjourned. Spread the word to gather at the square.”

  Eben entered the room a moment later and was immediately waved forwards by Larkel, ignoring the King’s murmured disagreement.

  “Everyone already knows. It makes no difference any more,” Larkel whispered, standing as Eben drew near.

  The king frowned but nodded, conceding the point. “Is it working? Are the people calming down?”

  “Yes, my King,” Naleiya said as Larkel fidgeted with something in his cape pocket, oblivious to anything but his worry over Starla as he bent his head to hear Eben's report. “The people are responding. They are moving calmly to the square. The panic is abating, slowly. It seems they still trust their king.”

  The King nodded, his face grim.

  Prince Niden drew in a steadying breath. “Did you find out anything about Starla?” he asked, shooting a glance at Larkel's tortured expression as he returned to them, Eben in tow.

  Medara nodded grimly then continued in a more normal voice. “Starla appears to have left through a magical anomaly. The Makhi you had sent with me, High Lord, read the magic and determined that it leads to the ancient city in the northern reaches of Rainbow Wood. A piece of her dress was found.” She held up a scrap of cloth, cleanly severed by magic.

  “Who is in pursuit?” Larkel asked, jumping to his feet and snatching the scrap of cloth from her. “I must go after them, after her. I can track her aura and—”

  His suggestion was fiercely drowned out by all present. A tumult of voices assailed him, reminding him of his duties. Protect the city, lead the Makhi, maintain the shield, act as a deterrent against further panic.

  But Larkel only heard the Commander's voice. “No one was sent in pursuit. The anomaly fell apart moments after the Makhi had come to her conclusion.”

  The King called the room to order. As Naleiya watched her brother's face crumple in pain, she asked the question the High Lord should have asked.

  “What caused the magical anomaly, Commander? Did the Makhi with you recognise it?” Using her wife's title helped to keep things distant.

  “Magmus fire,” she whispered. “It was too dangerous to continue on after her,” she added for Larkel's benefit.

  Larkel collapsed back onto the steps, his staff clattering down beside him.

  All his worry over whether her Soreiaphin Amulet would take her life, and now it seemed Kyron was going to get there first.

  No. I can’t believe Braxton would just hand her over.

  As if summoned by his words, the Baron stepped out of the shadows, his face assuming a thoughtful frown.

  “I am going back to the pond to perform an Aura Trace.”

  “High Lord, I have not yet released you from this meeting.” The King’s face was hard, his usually kind eyes dark with grief and worry.

  “I am the only one who can do it. We need to find Starla. I have already told you what she was hiding.”

  “I said, no.”

  Larkel felt his hands close into fists. “Then I must break your command, King Eldos. If you cannot see why we need her, then I must leave without your permission. You do not have the power to stop me. I am not Bound.”

  A loaded silence fell, the King looking as if Larkel had struck him.

  Crown Prince Niden watched his friend in mute horror, and Larkel stifled a sigh. Part of the agreement in the Silver Alliance had been that the rulers of the nations, along with the heads of the Makhi Order and the Floating Temple, all be Bound by the Demilain magic of Blood Binder to obey the rulings of the United Assembly. That way, the most powerfully gifted could never turn traitor. But with Highest Valana stuck on Aurelia since the war began, Larkel had never been Bound by her blade.

  He opened his mouth to explain further, but the Baron spoke first, turning his dead eyes from Larkel to the King.

  “I tried to warn you. All of you.” The Baron's face fell into shadows as the chandeliers flickered overhead. “I told you not to set her free, that she had Larkel bewitched. Now look at the panic.”

  “Starla is missing!” Larkel growled, his temper barely contained. “How can you accuse her of this when she isn't even here?”

  The Baron raised an eyebrow and then smiled condescendingly. “Of course she wouldn't stay in the city!” he spat, his voice full of disdain. “Or … no, did you really believe that she would stay for you?”

  Larkel watched him, his indigo eyes terrifying as they darkened with anger.

  The Baron nodded once. A look of fake disappointment crossed his face. “I thought as much. But why would she? After all, she already got everything she wanted from you. Or will you lie about the fact that you told her everything? All about our Queen's misfortune, the Sacred Stones, and your Shield? About the Soreiaphin research,
which you took over from Queen Astria when she went missing?”

  The King and the others turned to Larkel, disbelief in their eyes.

  “I do not deny it.” Larkel's voice fell flat, cold and hard as stone. “But she would never—”

  Larkel's explanation was cut short as he fell to his knees, clutching his head, a muffled scream escaping his lips.

  “Larkel!” Naleiya cried, getting up, reaching for her brother at the same time that an emergency message reverberated against her mind. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head, one hand still outstretched towards Larkel.

  “Darling, what happened?” Medara asked, forgetting formalities for a moment as she held her wife steady.

  She just kept shaking her head while the High Lord clutched at his, moaning, tears escaping his eyes, his nose bleeding.

  “I order one of you to give me an explanation,” said the King as the panic outside seemed to redouble and the tensions inside seemed about to snap, his four personal Makhi shaking their heads in mute horror.

  Naleiya raised her eyes to the King, but before she could speak, a wild-eyed Makhi Ditte burst through the throne room doors, trailed by a smattering of higher nobles.

  “He's dead! They're gone, and he's dead!” he yelled, panic in every syllable as he skidded to a halt before the throne. His fevered eyes flicked between the King and the High Lord, who was now slowly rising to his feet again, eyes haunted, wiping the blood from his face.

  “Calm down, Makhi!” ordered the Baron sternly. “Now, tell us what has happened.”

  Ditte bobbed his head in a panicked nod. “Makhi Redkin is dead … murdered.”

  Larkel felt his limbs go numb and was only very vaguely aware of the Commander and Eben reaching out to support him. Redkin, dead. His mentor was dead. His mind recoiled from the possibility, even as he knew it was true.

  “And the Stones,” Ditte continued, more coherent, but no less panicky, “the Sacred Stones are gone. Stolen. The Shield,” he glanced warily at the High Lord, “has fallen.”

  “High Lord?” the King asked, barely managing to keep his voice level.