Suddenly, it was quiet. The unnatural stillness terrified me even more than the creature’s growling, and I stopped. In such abrupt darkness and silence, I felt as though the sound of my footsteps could somehow shatter the universe. Don’t be ridiculous. I exhaled my fear and started moving again.
The passageway grew hotter, drops of sweat sliding down my spine as I unclasped my cloak and draped it over one shoulder. I skulked past several alcoves leading into other areas of the north wing. Could there be people within the rooms, enduring an endless sleep?
The heat became unbearable as I stepped into a capacious room. I could sense its size more than see it. “Amir?” I whispered, though my voice was amplified by the acoustics of the space and became louder than I’d anticipated.
“Look out!” Callum called from somewhere ahead of me. A stream of orange and blue fire shot toward the sound of his voice. Menacing shadows danced across the walls and ceiling for a moment before the bolt of heat and light disappeared as quickly as it had come. I hadn’t even realised I’d thrown my body to the floor until I was dragging myself back to my feet.
An arm brushed past me. “Caster,” Callum whispered. “Can you see anything?” I shook my head and cursed myself inwardly. He couldn’t see me.
“Talia?” he said, more insistent this time.
The moonbeam stone. How could I forget I had it? Red’s precious gift had saved me many times before. “I have a light,” I replied as quietly as I could. “But will it not endanger us?”
“We are already in danger. I can’t see my brothers. Do it!”
I retrieved the stone from my belt and forced a surge of energy into the centre, sending beams of moonlight into the cavernous space, brighter than I’d ever seen it generate before.
My breath caught in my throat. Callum and I both stepped back as we gazed upon the creature sitting motionless in the centre of the elegant but aging ballroom.
Earlier that day, I hadn’t believed stories about goblins could be real. I’d been wrong. But surely such an animal as this existed only in legend? Incredulity rushed through my veins with an explosive force. A bulbous lump formed in my throat as I struggled to absorb the sight before me.
A dragon.
Chapter Six
THE ANIMAL SEEMED to be asleep, despite the stream of fire it’d just released. Perhaps it responded to sound or movement, similar to the way the goblins had been called to arms as Amir and I had made noise in the courtyard.
“Sebastian!” Callum’s brothers stood against a wall several metres away, remaining perfectly still, as did Amir another few metres past them. They all looked toward the sound of the eldest prince’s manic voice.
The dragon’s obsidian eyes burst open, two perfectly round discs bulging out of a savage, bony skull the colour of molten rock. Callum’s face distorted as he realised what he’d done. He held his arm up in front of me, a futile gesture. The dragon blew tendrils of smoke through the slitted nostrils resting above its elongated jaw.
Sebastian, Elias, and Amir all ran toward us, following the circular wall. The dragon’s wings expanded slowly, as though it were stretching after a long period of inactivity. Scales on the underside of its body reflected a beautiful, metallic rainbow as rays from my stone brightened them. If it didn’t possess the ability to stamp each of us out as easily as a human might destroy an insect, the creature would have been nothing short of stunning.
The dragon reared onto its tree-trunk-like legs, arching a coarse, agile neck. At full height, she was the epitome of strength and regal prowess. She? Yes, I decided. That magnificent dragon was a female. I felt it, just as I felt magic—simply…there.
The five of us huddled together, despite knowing our proximity offered no protection. An unspoken message passed between Amir and Callum as the two locked eyes, both reaching for their swords. Slowly. Gingerly.
The dragon watched us but did not attack. She cocked her head and huffed, her forceful breath sending particles of dust flying through the room, illuminated by the magic of my stone. Her ancient-looking gaze locked onto us as she released an intimidating, throaty purr.
“Are you ready?” Amir mouthed to Callum, who responded with a nod. Both of them held their swords at shoulder height, primed to attack.
A cold rush of air pressed against my neck, like the hand of a corpse, but then it was gone again. Could it have been Red trying to tell me something? I hoped not, for if she couldn’t project her voice to me, something truly dangerous had been happening in the Other World.
“This is wrong,” I said. The words came from my lips, yet I hadn’t thought them. They simply erupted of their own volition, but I had every intention of standing by their meaning.
Amir’s eyes darted from the dragon to me and back again. He stood in a lunge position, rocking from his left foot to his right. The three brothers seemed equally poised for action.
“What?” Amir said.
“Look at her.” I motioned toward the dragon. “She isn’t coming for us. She’s like the goblins. Watch.” I felt the heat of their collective gaze as I stepped forward. No doubt they all thought me insane. I agreed. I’d never in my life been as brave and as stupid as I was right then. Nor would I be again, save for one other moment that would shape my future. A moment that lay on the other side of that dragon.
“Don’t,” Callum whispered, his voice urgent. I took another step. Then another. The dragon watched me with increasingly large eyes. I could sense the four princes waving as I moved forward, frantically calling me back as quietly as they could.
Amir grabbed hold of my arms, his breath hot against my neck. “What are you doing?” His concern gave his words a piercing edge, but they weren’t sharp enough to cut through my resolve. I couldn’t explain how I knew the dragon wouldn’t hurt us unless we gave her reason, but I did. Just like I knew I could trust any message Red sent to us.
I shook out of Amir’s grasp and surged forward. The dragon straightened, her spiked head scraping the ornate paintings across the ceiling. She opened her powerful jaws and let loose another burst of fire. The projected flames scorched the floor and wall, but did not come near us. When she closed her mouth again, I led Amir to rejoin the brothers.
“See?” I said. “She’s not aggressive. Not unless we try to pass.”
“But,” Elias started, “we need to pass. The stairwell to the tower is behind her.”
“Of course it is,” Amir said. It was the first I’d seen of his signature sarcasm since I’d woken up. I felt grateful for that small measure of humour. After a few moments of contemplation, he sighed and dropped his sword to the height of his hip. “Do you know any other way through?”
“There is no other way.” Sebastian spoke flatly, defeated.
“There is,” I said. “We help her remember.”
“Remember?” Callum sheathed his sword. Then, moving closer to me, he took my hand. “Are you saying—”
“Yes.” I used my free hand to cover his. “She must be part of your family. She’s trapped just like you were.”
“Callum, it must be mother!” Elias blurted. “It must be!” The hope glistening in his eyes nearly brought tears to mine, but I forced myself to remain stoic. I could process all of what was happening later. This wasn’t the time.
“Do you think so?” Sebastian said, his gaze returning to the dragon. “Such a beast could really be her?”
Callum bit his lower lip, his eyes hardening. He looked as though he’d aged in the few short hours since I’d met him. And why wouldn’t he have? The last he remembered, he was a young man surrounded by his family and his subjects, waiting for adulthood, waiting for marriage, waiting to be a man. It was all gone. His family and subjects were cursed. His betrothed was long dead. And manhood had been thrust upon him whether ready for it or not.
“We were goblins,” he said. “Whatever lunacy made that possible could also do this to our mother.”
“Talia,” Amir said, “Can you fix her? Like you did the pri
nces?”
I turned on the spot to better consider the dragon. Her scales continued to glisten in the light, her spiny tail curled around one of her legs as she watched us with suspicion. I closed my eyelids so I could see her with my mind’s eye. Deep within me, I willed her scales to melt. Her tail to wither. Her eyes to shrink. The vision of the dragon broke, cracked, and shattered until an intelligent-looking woman with green eyes and auburn hair stood in its place. Her cheeks were stained by dried tears, her hands drawn together as she begged me to help her.
The woman’s familiar features left no doubt she was the Queen of Oldpass. Though she was more pale than her sons, they possessed the same facial structure. I reached out with my spirit, trying to grab hold of her, to pull her free of her prison. Something barred my way.
Gusts of hot and cold swished around me like a tornado. My spirit was lifted from the ground and flung into the wall. I’d never experienced such a thing. The shock forced me back into my body. I opened my eyes and gasped for air.
Amir had his arms around me tightly. “Shhh. Are you hurt?”
“No. No. I’m fine. But—” I pulled away from him and looked to the brothers. It felt like every time I spoke to them I had to chip away more small pieces of their hearts. “I’m sorry. I can’t release her.”
“Why not?” Elias’s voice sounded more childlike than before. “You did it earlier!”
“The magic is too strong. There’s some hope, though.”
“What do you mean?” Sebastian said.
“She’s still in there. She wants to be free, but she is so deep inside, I can’t reach her. I think that, maybe…maybe you can.”
All four of my companions frowned.
“What do you mean, Talia? You’re the only one with the power to even see the worlds beyond ours, let alone the power to interact with them,” Amir said.
“Surely, you trust me by now?”
His serious eyes softened. “You’re right,” he said. “I should know better after the last few weeks.”
“Could you two explain what’s going on?” Sebastian huffed. “If that dragon is my mother, I want her back.”
“Of course,” I replied. “She needs someone to remind her who she is. My incantations alone won’t be able to break through the curse. Not this time.”
“How do we do that?” Callum asked, more stoic than his younger brothers, who seemed agitated and impatient. “Just tell us what to do.”
I took a few steps back to increase the distance between myself and the watchful dragon. There was no need to risk antagonising her. She might have been another innocent trapped by dark magic, but just like the goblins, she would destroy us without a second thought. The brothers and Amir followed my lead.
“The three of you should hold hands,” I instructed. Without a word, the brothers formed a triangle. “It isn’t necessary, but closing your eyes may help you ignore the distraction of your mother’s form. You need to remember who she is. Her face. Her smell. Her voice. Anything at all.” I did my best to sound confident, capable.
The truth was, I had no idea if a memory bay would work. I’d never tried to reverse such a powerful spell before. Without a specific, tested technique in my arsenal, I returned to my early training. I thought of my first tutor, the woman who’d mentored and cared for me after my parents had left me indentured to Grimvein’s royal family. Not quite a prisoner, not quite free either. Nazli’s lessons had helped me find purpose in an unfamiliar world.
“You could learn every incantation and every spirit-trick known to humanity,” she’d told me, “But when you are the Caster of Grimvein, something will arise one day. You’ll find an adversary or a challenge unlike anything we could anticipate in these lessons.”
“How am I supposed to come out of something like that alive?” I’d asked her.
Nazli had stroked my cheek with the back her leathery fingers. “You think. That’s how. Remember three philosophies, child. First, no dark magic can hold back the force of love. Real, experienced love can break through anything. Second, with the exception of love, there is no such thing as unfaltering truth. Like history, truth is a construct, a distortion built of our own concepts and beliefs. Magic rearranges concepts, it challenges beliefs, it can reshape the way we view ourselves and everything around us. Sometimes for the better and sometimes not.”
“What’s the third thing?”
“That,” she’d said with wild eyes, “is not something I can ever teach you.”
By the gods, that woman had been frustrating! She’d taken the third philosophy with her to the grave a few years later. If there’d even been a third. Nazli never did teach me anything in a particularly direct fashion.
“Now what?” Elias’s frustrated voice returned me to the moment.
“Can I do anything to help?” Amir said, standing awkwardly next to the triangle of brothers. I shook my head, and his gaze dropped to the polished checkered floor. Inaction always frustrated him, but he had no role to play in that particular moment. He’d come there to slay a dragon. To be a noble hero and save a princess with the might of his sword. Not to remain idle whilst others fought a battle he could not even see, let alone contribute to. The fact was, the story wasn’t playing out the way either of us thought it would. For a start, we were still alive.
“Think about your mother,” I told the boys. “Choose an image you have of her. No. Not just have. An image you can feel, that you can experience with all of your senses.”
Their foreheads wrinkled as they concentrated. I waited until their breathing slowed, an indication they’d settled into the meditation of memory, before taking up a position between the twins. I covered their joined hands with my own, clasping their wrists. Neither of them reacted, a good indication they’d disconnected from the ballroom with their minds.
I felt Amir’s attention on me as I breathed deeply and closed my eyes. I huffed as my projected self was abruptly dragged into another time and place. The boys had somehow managed to align their thoughts, to create a shared space. They’d all been drawn to the same moment in their past, pulling me into it with them. I allowed myself to hope the spirit-trick could actually work.
In their memories, the Queen of Oldpass sat sobbing in the centre of a dimly lit room on an oversized wooden chair covered in ornate carvings. She was completely alone. I could see the hopelessness she felt contracting and expanding in bright bursts of black smoke around her aura with every heaving sob.
“Mother!” The excited collective squeal of her four sons prompted the queen to wipe her face and straighten her spine before turning towards her children as they charged into the room. She forced a smile as the two youngest burst onto her lap, the older twins taking up position on either side of the chair. Callum and Anton were near identical, but it was clear the ten-year-old on the left was Callum, his slender nose slightly hooked. His eyes were also more serious, more mature. Even back then, he’d considered himself the protector.
“What else can you remember?” I said. The young boys ignored me because, for them, I wasn’t there. I couldn’t see their older counterparts, the young men meditating in the ballroom mere metres away from a dragon, but I could feel their nostalgia and their melancholy. This was one of those childhood moments one reflects upon when older, realising their youthful innocence had coloured their understanding of the moment.
“Are you quite well, Mother?” the young Callum asked. I could smell his mother’s perfume as though I were the one standing next to her, lavender with a hint of orange.
“Yes, darling boy,” the queen replied, hugging the younger twins tighter. Elias and Sebastian remembered that hug as clearly as though it’d happened yesterday.
“You have to be happy today!” Elias grinned, looking up at her with a loving expression.
The queen smiled again, more genuinely than before. “Why is that, dear boy?”
“Because,” Sebastian answered for him, “today is Aurora’s birthday!”
Her smile d
issolved, replaced by a deep sorrow the boys hadn’t understood at the time, but did now. Their sister was one birthday closer to being taken by Tanit’s curse. Every year, the queen had cried on her daughter’s birthday, alone in that chair tucked away in a shaded, dusty room left untouched every other day of the year. Except for this one occasion when her sons had found her.
How could Tanit do that to their family? The curse was only part of the torture. The rest was the waiting, a dense shadow hovering above all the years of Aurora’s life. When her parents ought to have loved and embraced every moment of her childhood, they mourned them instead, for each passing day frightened them beyond measure. Even before her younger brothers knew why their parents felt such constant lamentation, they knew it was there, lurking in every hug, every kiss, every birthday.
“Talia. Please. Do something,” Callum urged, his voice floating on a wave of despair. I’d almost become lost in the bittersweet beauty of their shared memory. I nodded, more to myself than anyone else, preparing for what came next.
I stretched my arms out as if to grab hold of the entire room the memory existed within. I curled my fingers around the edge of the image and lifted it as though it were a framed painting that hung on a wall. Is that not what all memories are? The people within it, the four young boys and their heartbroken mother, all froze in place.
“What are you doing?” Elias’s voice wavered as he felt the shaking of his mind. Sebastian grimaced, but Callum’s spirit remained silent.
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I need to take this from you, just for a moment. Please don’t fight me.” I pulled at the image with all of my strength, but it wouldn’t come away from their joined consciousness.
“I-I’m trying to let it go,” Elias said.
“But I can’t,” Sebastian added. “We don’t want to leave.”
Finding Aurora Page 5