Kavenaugh shook his head. “I disagree. You did not go up to someone and kill them for sport. It was survival. Kill or be killed. You’ve done nothing wrong. Think of it as nothing more than cutting off the head of a venomous snake.”
“A human being and a snake are two different things.”
“She wasn’t human,” Slavandria said, her fingers brushing the tops of the chairs as she walked by. “She was evil of the most malignant kind. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t feel some sort of guilt or experience a bit of self-condemnation. I’d have some serious concerns about your moral fiber if you didn’t. But I hope you will believe me when I say that guilt is misplaced. Had you not killed Avida, Charlotte and many others would be dead. Would you have been able to live with that, knowing you could have done something and didn’t?”
David stared at his lap. “No.”
“Everything in perspective, boy,” Kavenaugh said. “Remember that.”
“I couldn’t have said it better,” Trog said, returning to his seat. “Stephen, I’m sure you remember Sirs Gowran, Crohn, and Farnsworth.” He gestured toward the three men sitting to his right.
“Yes, yes, I do,” Kavenaugh said, sitting to Trog’s left. “And might I add how it pleases me to see I am not the only one who has grown weathered, old, and beaten.”
“Speak for yourself, wereman,” said Crohn, combing his dark, scraggly hair from his eyes. “I could get me a fair lass if I wanted one.”
“Only in a world where an ogre looked like a rabbit and smelled like a rose,” quipped the red-haired Gowran. Hearty laughter floated around the room. Even David couldn’t keep the chuckle inside.
“So, Captain,” Queen Mysterie said, her melodic voice bringing temperance to the room. “What brings you to Gyllen Castle? I would think you would wish to return to Fauscher as soon as possible.”
Kavenaugh leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the table. His smile faded, his eyes darkened and his jaw tightened. “Since my recovery, Agimesh, Tacarr, and others have been keeping me abreast of the situation in Fallhollow. It is much more severe than anything you can imagine. Einar is amassing his armies. Dalvarian rebels are infiltrating Berg in large numbers. Other armies, some from as far away as Ochlen and the Mist Vales are moving in from the north and east, taking control of harbor towns between Gable and the Brindle Sea.”
“They’re annexing the trade routes.” Gildore said.
“That’s not good,” Eric said.
“They’ve also positioned their headquarters in Tulipakar at the Elthorian Manor in the name of the Dragon King.”
David swallowed the rock in this throat.
“No,” Charlotte said, shaking her head. “They can’t do that! We can’t let them. We’ve got to do something. Twiller’s family is there.” She clasped David’s hand.
A thousand electrifying needles pricked David’s skin at her touch. “Ouch!” He jerked his hand away and shook it. “What the hell?”
“Don’t be such a baby. You’ve felt worse.” She looked back at Slavandria. “We have to send in a rescue party.”
“And do what, liberate an entire village of gnomes?” Kavenaugh asked. “It’s impossible. Shadowmorths, as thick as storm clouds, guard every inch of Tulipakar. An attempt to enter would result in death.”
“So, we’re going to do nothing?”
“Not necessarily,” David said, leaning forward. He glanced at Slavandria. “Why don’t we contact Garret and Gertie? I can blink my way in and out of the Inn of the Nesting Owls; tell them what we’ve learned. They can send Ravenhawk and that other shapeshifter, that fox … oh what’s his name … Rusty, into the wild. They do it all the time anyway. They can find out what’s going on.”
“I am afraid that is impossible,” Agimesh said. His voice rumbled through David like thunder on a hot summer night. He stepped forward and took a knee, tucking his webbed, lime-green wings tight to his back. The vibrant feathered tips brushed his calves. “Your Grace, if I may have your permission to speak.”
“Of course,” Slavandria said.
The shime soldier stepped forward, his usual bright, round amethyst eyes now dark in his translucent human-like face. Even his green scales seemed to have lost their glimmer and shine.
“The two humans of which you speak, Garret and Gertie of Gable, were taken prisoner within hours of our departing Gable. They are being held in the Elthorian manor in Tulipakar.”
Charlotte gasped, her hand covering her mouth. “No. That can’t be.”
“The shapeshifting fox, Rusty, of which you have referred, as well as a dozen other shapeshifters have been murdered in their attempts to rescue them.”
David’s insides went cold, his body trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t shake. A half hour ago he was entertaining the thought of meeting his parents and going home with Charlotte, living out as close to a normal life considering all that had happened. Why did something always have to get in the way and puncture holes in his plans?
Trog pounded a fist on the table, rattling David’s bones. The knight rose from his chair and turned his back to everyone. He gripped the edge of the mantel, his face dipped toward the floor.
“This is not your fault, Trog,” said the knight sitting to the right of Trog’s vacant chair. “There is no way you could have known—”
“But I did know, Farnsworth!” Trog rounded on the man. Anger flashed in his eyes. “They knew who I was and I used them! I let them risk everything for us. I should have never allowed them to get involved.”
“They knew the chance they were taking and they took it anyway,” Farnsworth said.
“He’s right, Trog,” David said. “They would have done anything for you. We have to do the same for them.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Slavandria said.
“Not if I ferry in,” David said. “I’ve been inside once, I can get in again.
“And what of our discussion this morning?” Slavandria asked.
David drummed his fingers on the table. “I’ve changed my mind. I can’t go home without trying to rescue them, not after all they did for us. But, I want an introduction with my parents before we set off on this rescue mission. Can we do that?”
Her eyes softened, as if a huge burden had been lifted. “I think that can be arranged.”
“Your Grace,” Agimesh said, “it would be unwise to ferry anyone into the manor. The shadowmorths will be upon him before you could have a chance to pull him out.”
“I have to try,” David said. “You’ve got to figure out a way to make me undetectable.”
Eric shifted in his chair. “If David is going on a rescue mission, I’d like to volunteer to join the reconnaissance.”
“Absolutely not!” King Gildore said, his tone final.
“Why not?” Eric asked, his jaw tense.
“Because I said so,” Gildore replied. “You will see to the weapons and bed rolls and prepare the rations.”
Eric’s bottom jaw moved from side to side. His fingers balled into fists. “Your Majesty, with all due respect, I feel my skills would be well suited to join them. I am agile, quick with a sword. My injuries are healed. Why not take advantage of that? Let me prove my mettle. Let me use the skills I’ve been taught.”
“Out of the question,” Gildore said. “You will do as you have been instructed. Trog, you and I will journey to the Floating Isles and do what we can to convince the Steward to drop its shield of neutrality and join our cause.”
“But I don’t want to stay here,” Eric said, bolting from his seat. “You have no right keeping me chained to these walls. I know what and who I am and I know what is at stake. I am willing to take the risks and I should be allowed to do so.” Infuriating desperation seeped from his eyes which had taken on a strange shade of green. Piercing in an alarming way.
Gildore shook his head. “I’m sorry, Eric, but my answer is no. I need you here.”
“But, Your Majesty.”
>
“Eric, your king has spoken,” Trog said, his brow furrowed. “That is the end of it.”
Eric’s gaze locked with Trog’s. His nostrils flared, his chest rose and fell in controlled breaths.
David shifted in his seat. His gaze met with Eric’s, and he saw the same irritation, the same disgust he’d felt with Slavandria and Lily. He had to fight for him. Stick with him. There was more power in numbers, even if the current number was two.
“Yeah, so I don’t know what the scoop is here,” David said, standing, his chair scraping across the floor, “and I don’t want to know, but I have to agree with Eric.”
“David,” Trog warned. “This is not your battle.”
“Yeah, well none of the battles I’ve fought in this place have been mine, so I don’t see how this is any different. I’ve seen Eric in action. I know for a fact I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for him, so maybe having him on your team might not be a bad thing.”
“You don’t understand the circumstances,” Trog said, “and you’re out of line. Take a seat.”
“With the utmost respect … no.”
David took a deep breath to calm the rattle in his nerves. He must be crazy. He had to be to challenge Trog.
“That wasn’t a request.”
“And you’re not listening.”
“I said sit. Down.”
David stared and seethed. His right eye twitched and the words he wanted to say warbled just below the surface of his lips. The man was so infuriating!
“Do I need to come over there and sit you down myself?”
David snatched his chair and sat down, his heart racing as if he’d run two miles
Trog flicked his gaze to Eric and motioned to him with a finger “Eric?”
“You can’t keep treating me like a child!”
“I can, and will do so as long as you continue to act like one. Now sit down.”
David took a deep breath. Man, Trog could be a real jerk. He wouldn’t even listen. It was his way or no way. Why is it that adults always think they’re right? It just burned him to no end.
Eric stared back at Trog. “As you command … Master.”
“Eric,” Gildore said, “one more disrespectful word and I will send you to the kitchens to wash every item of dinnerware in this castle with a rag the size of a lady’s handkerchief.”
“That’s kind of harsh,” David mumbled.
Charlotte kicked him.
“Would you like to join him, young man?” King Gildore asked, his gaze pinned on David.
David shook his head. “No sir.”
“Coward,” Eric said, folding his arms across his chest.
“Jerk,” David replied.
“Babies,” Charlotte said, smacking them both on the arm. “How old are you anyway? Geez.” She shook her head and looked at Slavandria. “I have a question. If we can’t go in above ground, why can’t we go underground? You’ve got the Eye of Kedge and the crystals, right? I mean, that’s what we all almost died for—getting you that stupid stone. All you have to do is wiggle your fingers, open the tunnels. Boom, we’re in and out before anyone knows. That’s doable, right?
The room quieted. All eyes on Charlotte for a change. Slavandria stood and paced “Yes, I can activate the tunnels, but doing so comes with a price. Seyekrad, Einar, and whatever demons gather around them will detect the magic in an instant. As we do not know exactly where Garret and Gertie are or what forces surround them, we will need time for reconnaissance once inside. That will take time. Time we do not have. Resistance will come almost instantly, above and below ground. A mage war will no doubt ensue. You must ask yourselves if you have the resources and the stamina to endure such a conflict. Hirth is wounded as is Gyllen Castle. You don’t have near enough men, and there is only so much I can do alone. If you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly have the assistance of the Mages High Council at my disposal.”
“We can’t sit here and do nothing,” David said.
“I think Charlotte’s idea is brilliant,” Trog said. “I say we take our chances and fight using the mage tunnels. If it’s planned well, if it’s planned right, we might be able to succeed. There are thousands of tunnels. I’m sure Slavandria can find a way to mask us for short periods of time to confuse those that might be watching.”
The room burst into loud discussion, and before David could blink twice, the knights and the king were strategizing, pulling out maps, spreading them over the tables. Talk over the collection of allied forces, battle routes, reconnaissance, tactical formations melded together into an overwhelming roar. Slavandria conjured an extensive map of the mage tunnels in the air and launched into a discussion over battle plans if met with resistance, escape routes, and ways to ambush the enemy without being discovered.
David’s mouth went dry. This wasn’t what he wanted, what he suggested. How did a rescue plan change to waging a full-scale battle? The muscles in his arms tightened and a burst of angry heat clawed through his stomach. He stood.
“Umm, hello? Excuse me?”
They continued on, their voices smothering his. He spoke a little louder, this time almost a shout. “Umm, hello? I think you misunderstood me.” The room fell quiet again as all eyes turned on him. “I’m not talking about waging an all-out war here. All I want is for Slavandria to get me into the Elthorian Manor, snatch up Gertie and Garrett, and return here. That’s it. Plain and simple.”
“There is nothing simple about this, David,” Slavandria said. “If you use the tunnels, you’re going to have to take soldiers with you. I can only mask the magic for maybe a few seconds at a time. That is nowhere near enough to get in and out like what you’re thinking.”
“But I thought the tunnels shaved time? I thought travel was instant.”
“They do, and it is, but as I said, I’m not the only one who can use the tunnels. I can assure you Seyekrad is waiting for me to activate them and when I do, no one inside of them will be safe.”
David clenched his fists. “So, you’re telling me that with all the magic you possess, there isn’t anything you can do to get me in there undetected.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“No, there isn’t, not without risking your capture and possible murder.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“David, please,” Charlotte, said, taking his hand in hers.
He snatched it away and banged his chair against the table. “You’re the great sorceress to ever live,” he yelled, pointing at Slavandria. “You’re the daughter of Jared, the almighty poobah of all poobah’s. I don’t care how you do it, but figure out a way that doesn’t involve war to get me in there and get them out. Plain and simple. Come find me when you’ve figured it out.”
He stormed from the room, past the grand staircase and out the front door of the castle, ignoring Charlotte’s shouts to stop.
Charlotte.
His stomach coiled in a tight knot. He was supposed to protect her. Keep her safe. What a fine job he’d done there. And now he couldn’t rescue his other friends without starting World War III. What had he done? Good God, what had he done?
Eric
Eric ran through the shattered gatehouse, Charlotte close behind, and took off down the dirt road. Far ahead, David disappeared behind a stone wall and into the ravaged, burnt town of Hammershire. Street after street they searched until they finally came upon him sitting on a bench outside a tailor’s charred shop, hunched over, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands.
Charlotte sat on one side, Eric on the other, his hands clasped between his knees. “Are you all right?” he asked.
David straightened and combed his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“That was quite a display back there,” Charlotte said. “Not exactly the best way to win over—”
Eric caught her eye and shook his head. He knew the monster eating at David. It ate at him, too, and the last thing David
needed was a thousand questions and judgments hurled at him. He’d talk when he was ready to talk.
Charlotte combed her fingers through David’s hair, her forehead creased with concern. Another glance at Eric and her eyes shifted. She sat back, her hands in her lap, and planted her gaze on something unknown in the distance. Eric’s fingers twitched as he tried to look away, to not see her, but her presence tugged at him. He wanted her fingers in his hair, her eyes to look at him the way they looked at David, but why? He was a knight in training. He could have any girl he wanted, as well as the ones he didn’t. All he had to do was look at them and they’d swoon and fall at his feet. So what was it about this girl that had him turned upside down?
If only things could go back to the way they were before she showed up, when he was content with trading companionship and love for tournaments and knighthood. It would be so much better than walking around with this feeling that his chest would explode any minute, exposing his beating heart with her name written upon it.
He wondered if David noticed the way the sun glimmered upon her hair, or how sharp her cheekbones had become in her thinning face. Did he see the pale lavender shadows clinging to the puffy skin beneath her eyes or know the story of how the tiny but noticeable scars ended up on her forehead and chin? Did he see the strength and determination in the set of her jaw, in the squareness of her shoulders? Did he know what a precious gem he had?
He wanted to reach out to her, to let her know he understood how difficult it must be to watch her friend in pain, to want to help but know there was nothing she could do. He, too, knew that feeling. He’d experienced it watching Sestian die. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he bargained or begged, he couldn’t save his best friend. Fate had control over life, not mortal man. And he’d cursed the heavens for it, too, but to what end? Did death care? No, it didn’t and it never would. In fact, one day it would come for him. He wondered if anyone would be there in the end to bargain for his life.
Rage of the Dragon King Page 4