Wyvern's Prince (The Dragons of Incendium Book 2)

by Deborah Cooke

He smiled and offered the plate again. She couldn’t smell any guile in him and her sense was that he had no skill with deception.

  Then she realized something. “How did you know what a pavofel was?”

  “You knew what it was and I read your thoughts.”

  Gemma considered that as her belly grumbled. She chose to trust him, at least for the moment, and accepted his invitation. “Are you a prince of Regalia whose truth is hidden?”

  He gave her a sharp glance. “If I was, I wouldn’t be the one you’re seeking.”

  But the Seed…

  “He was here.”

  Her host said no more and Gemma ate before the fish got cold. Her thoughts churned all the while, her questions creating more questions, and the Seed making her yearn for satisfaction. The fire was warm and the fish was delicious. Gemma was certain she had never smelled or seen better fare at a feast.

  Much less tasted it.

  She ate three fish and felt much better. Felice was cleaning herself before the fire, her fur returning to its usual fluffy splendor.

  Her host rose to his feet. “You should change your clothes and leave,” he said so abruptly that Gemma was surprised.

  “Do you often have visitors who you help and send on their way?”

  “Almost never, thank goodness. I would rather you left sooner rather than later.” His attention was snared by a bird call from outside the hut and his eyes narrowed as he listened. “You might be pursued.” His manner made Gemma want to hurry.

  Not all of the creatures in the forest were spies, by his own admission, but she’d bet that bird was.

  He gestured to a pile of clothes and a satchel already packed. Gemma could see bread within it and smelled some herbal mixture. There also appeared to be a change of clothing. “Hurry! We’ll talk as we go.” He left the cabin then and she heard him make a bird call. A conversation ensured, or at least she imagined as much, for each time he gave a cry or a whistle, the bird in the trees seemed to respond. What news did the creature bring him?

  Gemma dressed quickly. To her relief, he’d given her simple men’s clothing: chausses, a chemise and vest, a belt and a pair of well-worn boots. She slung the satchel over her shoulder, wondering what to do with the maid’s garments.

  “Give them to me,” he instructed, having reappeared in the doorway, and Gemma did. He doused the fire then and secured the door of the hut, then set off at a brisk pace. He walked in the same direction that the river flowed, but veered away from the water, taking a course that only he could discern through the forest.

  “Where are we going?” Gemma asked.

  “You’re going to steal a mount from Farmer Aro. I’m just showing you the way.” He spared her a glance. “I assume you can ride.”

  “Of course. Do you have any advice as to my direction?”

  “You must go to the Queen’s Grotto in the Citadel, in order to find the antidote you seek.”

  Gemma halted. “How do you know this?”

  “A toad told me.”

  Gemma couldn’t stop her smile. “It’s alive, then? And you know it? Where is it?”

  “It doesn’t matter. It told me to expect you and what you needed.”

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “Because I owe the toad a favor.” He spoke with such solemnity that it had to be true.

  This was a most peculiar realm.

  Unless he’d known the toad before it had been cursed.

  “Did you know him before he was cursed?” she asked and her companion flicked a warning look at her. “Will you tell me about it?”

  The man sighed. He held back a cane of some plant that would have snapped in Gemma’s face, then walked beside her instead of in front of her. “How much do you know about the royal family of Regalia?”

  “Very little. The queen has twelve sons—well, eleven now.” It seemed tactless to speak of Drakina’s role in that, but her companion was unsurprised by the clarification.

  He wasn’t very interested in it either.

  “Actually, it’s commonly believed that the queen has ten surviving sons, for one is missing. One also has retreated from her court and no longer enjoys her favor.”

  That would be Venero who was missing and assumed dead. Who was the son who had retreated?

  Her companion winked at her.

  Gemma smiled. It only seemed reasonable to her that sons of Queen Arcana might want to hide from their mother and her sorcery.

  “Exactly,” her companion agreed.

  “So, she’s down to nine.”

  “You could look at it that way. Do you know much about them?”

  “Urbanus is crown prince, now that Canto is no more.”

  “And the missing prince?”

  “Venero. He and Urbanus were twins. But not identical.”

  “Not at all. Venero’s eyes were as gold as amber and it was said that his vision would burn through to the heart of any matter.”

  Gemma thought it was probably prudent to disguise how much she did know.

  “Very prudent,” agreed her companion. “But you know about the powers delegated to each son.”

  “What was Venero’s power?”

  “He was a DreamCaster. He could send dreams to others.”

  Gemma grimaced. “Like a MindBender.”

  “Similar but slightly different. Part of the distinction is nomenclature, but it’s more than that. A MindBender can manipulate the thoughts of others. That’s reliant upon the ability to read their minds. It’s an innate ability.”

  “They’re born with it?”

  He nodded. “But it can be developed with training, too. Refined and expanded. Like the ability to do calculations in your mind. Someone has the talent but can make more of it.”

  “I understand.”

  “DreamCasting, though, is a given ability, granted by a sorcerer. It has specific limitations, as defined by the sorcerer who gave it, and usually, like most given magical abilities, a limitation.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like a blind spot. There’s some situation in which it doesn’t work.”

  “Power tempered with vulnerability,” Gemma mused.

  “Exactly. So, Canto, as the son of the queen and the captain of the guard, had a natural talent for fighting. His magical ability was the power to win. That made him a champion, at jousts and tournaments.”

  “He didn’t win against Drakina.”

  “She was his weak spot, the one individual he couldn’t triumph against.” Her companion trudged onward. “The queen is said to have confided this detail in him for the first time on the night before his wedding.”

  Which was why he’d stood up his bride.

  “She wanted to clear the way for Urbanus?”

  Her companion shrugged. “He was always a favorite.”

  “Who was his father?”

  “A visiting wizard from Nimue. That’s why his ability to cast spells is so strong. It’s a combination of innate ability and a gift.”

  “And his weak spot?”

  “I’ll guess that the queen made him powerless against her, because that was Venero’s weak spot.”

  Gemma nodded. “Who was his father?”

  “A diplomat and lawyer from Advocia, part of the same delegation as Urbanus’ father.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I peeked.”

  Gemma considered whose mind he must have peeked into and had a good idea why he was hiding in the forest. Only the queen would have known that truth.

  The other man remained silent and trudged onward.

  “So, what happened to Venero?”

  “No one knows,” her companion said, although Gemma smelled that he lied. “He was a good man, a warrior who kept his word and treated others with honor.”

  ‘The opposite of Urbanus, then,’ Gemma thought and her companion laughed.

  “So, you are acquainted with the crown prince. I thought you might be.”

  Gemma endeavored to think noth
ing at all and was pretty sure she failed.

  “You remind me of him, actually,” the man said, halting before a line of scrub.

  “Of Urbanus?”

  “Of Venero. There’s an integrity about you, and a clarity in your thinking.” He nodded. “The way you assess situations and plan your reactions is much the same.” He gave her a hard look. “You’re not a sneak.”

  Gemma took that as a compliment. “Then maybe I would have liked that prince of Regalia.”

  “Maybe so. He had ideas to improve the situation of the people of Regalia and to diminish our reliance upon Incendium. People liked him.”

  Gemma guessed that Venero had to be removed because he might offer a challenge to Urbanus’ taking the throne.

  She wished he hadn’t been.

  “Careful what you wish for,” her companion advised.

  “I can wish for the goodwill of others, surely?”

  “It’s not more than that?”

  Gemma shook her head with resolve. “It sounds like he might have made a good king, despite being a DreamCaster.”

  “The Consort of Incendium is a MindBender.”

  “And I distrust him, too. No one should mess with the thinking of anyone else.”

  “I’ll take that under advisory.” Her companion said mildly then paused. He pointed through the growth to the cluster of buildings. The barn was obvious, for there were goats penned beside it. The fields were tilled, the garden tended, and all looked tidy. “There is one swift horse, a black as midnight with a single star on his brow. He should be tethered in the last stall to the right.”

  “You want me to steal the horse?”

  “It’s too far to walk to the Citadel, especially if you’re being pursued. You’ll send it back.”

  Gemma nodded in understanding. “But how? There must be a dozen men working and who knows how many inside the barn.”

  “Farmer Aro and his men will go to the house for their midday meal at any moment now. They do it every day.”

  Even as he spoke, several men left the barn and walked toward the house, the low rumble of their conversation carrying to Gemma’s ears.

  “I guess three more,” her companion said.

  “Four,” Gemma corrected. He spared her a glance prepared to argue. “I smell a fourth. Maybe he doesn’t think much.”

  They waited, and three more men made their way to the house.

  A moment later, just when Gemma thought her companion believed her to be wrong, another figure came out of the barn. He shuffled toward the house, moving more slowly than the others, and Gemma smiled at her companion’s sidelong glance.

  “Four,” she whispered.

  He nodded, then pointed. “Follow that road, the one that bends to the right. Take the right fork twice, and the road will lead you around the village. Eventually, it crosses a river and become a narrow track.” He indicated the shadow of hills rising far to the right. “Its only destination after the river is the Citadel, and inside that palace, you’ll find the Queen’s Grotto. Let the horse go when you can see the watch tower. It will find its way home.”

  “Won’t I need it to return?”

  He spared her a look. “Either you will succeed and find the antidote you seek, or you’ll die in the Citadel. Either way, you won’t need the horse again.”

  He knew her true nature.

  Of course.

  “And the Seed?”

  Her companion smiled. “You’ll find it when the time is right.”

  Gemma eyed the mountains, seeing that the distance wasn’t small. How many days would it take her to reach her destination? She would just have to make the best progress she could, and let the horse rest when necessary. She took a deep breath and nodded.

  “I thank you for all of this,” she said, turning toward her companion but he was gone, as surely as if he had never been there. “I hope he’s not caught,” she whispered, and something in her saddlebag moved.

  “So do I,” came the familiar voice of the toad. “But don’t miss this chance. There might not be another.”

  Chapter Four

  To Venero’s pleasure, Gemma didn’t waste time asking questions about his survival or his presence. She peeked into the satchel to confirm that he was there, smiled, then shut the flap again. His heart was skipping from just the glimpse of that triumphant smile. He felt her ease the satchel to her back and adjust her grip on the pavofel.

  Then she ran, fast and low, loping smoothly across the field.

  There was something to be said for a purposeful woman.

  Even one who distrusted DreamCasters.

  She stopped suddenly, pivoted, and must have backed against the barn because he was a little crushed. He made a tiny sound of protest.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, then was off again. He felt the shade of the building fall over her, then smelled the hay in the barn. The air was cooler and he knew she was inside. She moved silently and cautiously down the length of the barn, then caught her breath.

  She wasn’t moving.

  There had to be a reason.

  Venero climbed over the provisions and peeked out the side of the satchel, fearing that Celo had been wrong about the horse and its location. He hadn’t been. The beast was there, watching Gemma, its coat as dark as midnight and the star on its brow glowing. It wore a bridle, which was tethered to the end of the stall, and its dark eyes seemed to be filled with wisdom.

  “You beautiful creature,” Gemma whispered, then stepped into the stall with her hand outstretched.

  It was only when the horse stepped forward that Venero heard the rustle of its feathered wings.

  “Hurry, hurry,” he urged.

  “I’ve never seen a pegasus,” she replied quietly. “Besides, everyone knows that you have to take your time with a horse. They’re not like Starpods.”

  “Hurry!” he urged, even though he knew she was right.

  She put down the bag and the pavofel, which began to clean itself at a little closer proximity than Venero would have liked. Gemma walked around the pegasus, running her hand over it, praising it quietly. Venero was so busy admiring the view of her that he forgot to anticipate her choice. She reached for the saddle that was at the end of the stall. Venero hadn’t seen it there until she touched it.

  “Not the saddle!” he hissed, but it was too late. The hundred silver bells upon it had already rung out a warning, erupting like a clarion as soon as Gemma’s fingertips brushed against it. The pegasus stamped with impatience to run, and tossed its head, its wings flapping. Men shouted in the distance and footsteps could be heard running toward the barn.

  “Thanks for the timely warning,” Gemma muttered. She moved like lightning, even as she spoke.

  “It’s enchanted.”

  “Obviously.” She had already slung the satchel over her shoulder again and untied the horse’s bridle.

  “You could have anticipated it.”

  He heard her grind her teeth.

  “I don’t understand magic. Since you seem to, you might be a little more proactive in future.”

  “Hurry!” Venero urged but he was pretty sure it was too late.

  Gemma seized the pavofel and stuffed it into the satchel, prompting Venero to recoil and the pavofel to hiss in protest.

  “Deal with it,” she muttered, leading the horse from the stall. She and the pegasus raced together to the doorway to the barn.

  By the time Venero was able to peek out again, they were outside and a man was coming around the corner. Gemma kicked him hard in the gut, a nice high kick and beautifully executed. Venero had to admire her technique. The man fell to the ground with a groan, but there were three more behind him. Gemma was surrounded and separated from the pegasus, and the reins were tugged from her fingers.

  But that was when she really set to work.

  She decked one man, spun and drove her fingers into the eyes of one who was trying to snatch her from behind, then kicked the third in the crotch. She spun in place, so lethal a
nd effective that Venero could have watched her all day. She was dressed in men’s clothing, her hair braided back, but looked remarkably enticing. Even with her dragon dismissed, she was a force to be reckoned with. Venero tried to control his desire for his brother’s wife and lost.

  He averted his gaze from her, only to see that the pegasus was cantering away from the barn, gathering speed.

  “It’ll take flight without us!” he roared. He tried to cast a thought to the creature that it should slow down, and the pegasus slowed its pace only slightly.

  Gemma spun and raced after the beast. She was faster than Venero expected, and more agile, too. She seized the tail of the pegasus and vaulted to its back with grace just as it took flight. Its hooves were above the ground and its dark wings beating hard. The satchel seemed to be floating behind Gemma, and Venero hoped the strap didn’t snap. The reins were dangling out of reach, but Gemma knotted her hands into pegasus’ dark mane. She looked back and laughed at the men left far below with a confidence Venero found both bold and attractive.

  Before he could think too much about his changing notions about women, Gemma urged the pegasus to greater height and speed. The wind whistled past the satchel. The pavofel hissed, and Venero looked to see its eyes gleaming overhead. He yelped and tried to bury himself beneath the provisions, only to have the creature burrow after him.

  “Help me!” he shouted.

  “I’m busy,” Gemma retorted. “Work it out between yourselves.”

  Her lack of sympathy was annoying. “I liked you better when you were trying to charm my brother,” he muttered as he dodged the pavofel’s paw. He tried to send a thought to the pavofel but it made no difference.

  Maybe his restored powers were already ebbing away. That wasn’t a reassuring thought!

  “How so?” Gemma asked.

  “Because you were demure.” Even as he uttered the familiar words, Venero doubted their truth. He’d never found a woman as attractive as Gemma, and she was as different from his usual taste as possible.

  And a dragon, too.

  “Women should be demure, charming, and biddable,” he insisted all the same. His reactions must be due to celibacy, which was unnatural. “It’s more feminine.”

  “More feminine,” Gemma echoed, with a precision that should have warned him.