Into the Shadows

by Linda K Hopkins

  “Claiming token?” The claiming token was a gift of jewelry given by the groom to indicate to the world his claim over his betrothed. “No. All I know is that it will be extravagant.” While sparkling bracelets and fine rings were the usual gifts, Lark knew that Val would want his gift to be more costly and lavish than anything given before. The choice was whatever the groom desired, and the bride, once she accepted the token, was expected to wear it whenever she was in public to signal her new standing as claimed.

  “Perhaps it will be a tiara, to show your status as princess and future queen,” Neta said with a smile. She looked at Lark, meeting her gaze. “This is your destiny, my lady, marrying the prince and one day becoming queen. It was what you were born to do. And I believe that you will do great things – I can feel it in my bones!”

  “A queen does not do great things, Neta. That is left to kings!”

  “I would not be so sure of that, my lady. I see greatness in you!”

  “Thank you.” Getting Val to recognize his duty would certainly be a great thing, Lark thought sardonically. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. She was not sure that she believed in destiny, but she certainly believed in duty, and she would carry out her duty with fortitude and determination. She braced her shoulders and stepped towards the door. “Time to be claimed,” she said.

  Chapter 2

  The palace, where Lark and her family had apartments, was huge. Built atop a hill overlooking the river, it covered the whole summit and spilled down the sides like a spreading vine. It was originally commissioned by King Valor, the conquering hero in the War of the Ancients, and each successive monarch had added more wings and apartments until the entire complex resembled a rambling rabbit warren.

  Heading along a wide, carpeted passage, Lark descended an ornate staircase where a guard was waiting to escort her to the banqueting hall. He saluted as Lark stepped onto the landing, and she gave him a smile.

  “Lieutenant Rill, what are you doing here?”

  “Good evening, Lady Lark. I’m in Lenora recuperating from an injury. I requested permission to serve as your guard this evening.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did.” They started down the passage. “How badly were you injured?”

  “It was just a scratch, really, but it began to fester. But I’m on the road to full recovery.”

  “Well, that’s good. I suppose that means you’ll be heading back to your unit soon. Iron says that things with the Rhymers are not going well.”

  “They’re proving to be more troublesome than usual, but the Crimson Guard will soon have them in hand. It’s not the first time we’ve dealt with Rhymer insurgents.”

  “But the situation must be serious to warrant sending Iron and his unit to Eldora.” He remained silent, his eyes focused on the faded carpet that had seen the passage of many other feet, and she sent him a searching look. “Lieutenant?”

  “My lady?”

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  He shot her a glance. “The commander does not want this spread around, but the Rhymers have acquired some allies.”

  “Allies? From where?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “Who are they?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “Can’t, or won’t?”

  “We know very little about them, my lady. Not even the commander knows from where they hail; all we know is that they are difficult to defeat.”

  “I see. Thank you for telling me – it was more than Iron was willing to say.” They reached more stairs and she paused to catch her breath. “How are your parents, Lieutenant?” she asked when they resumed their walking.

  “Very good, my lady.”

  They followed the passage down another flight of stairs, across a large vestibule, up another flight and down yet another long corridor before they finally reached the banqueting room with its enormous carved wooden doors. They were opened by a pair of uniformed guards, and a sea of people met Lark’s gaze as she stepped into the room. The doors were closed behind her, leaving her alone in a hall full of guests.

  The hall was massive, easily a hundred feet long and half as wide. At the far end was a raised dais where King Bastion and Prince Valiant sat along one length of a table, facing the door. Next to the king was the commander with Lady Finch, Lark’s mother, at his side. She had spent the day in bed, suffering from another of her terrible headaches, and even from this distance, Lark could see that she looked peaked. She wondered briefly when last Mother had seen Madam Breena, the apothecary who tended to Mother’s medical needs, and made a mental note to send the woman a note in the morning, before pushing the matter from her mind.

  Along either side of the hall ran dozens of tables, pushed together to form two long arms, covered in crisp white linen and sparkling with silver and crystal. The ceiling soared high overhead, painted in blues and golds with celestial scenes, while enormous chandeliers glittered with a thousand candles. Thick red damask covered the walls as the stern faces of long-gone kings stared down at the crowd from gold framed paintings. In each corner stood enormous vases overflowing with flowers, while smaller bowls of blooms punctuated the tables.

  An orchestra in the corner of the room played softly and chairs scraped as people turned to look at Lark. The women were bedecked in their finest jewels, the gold and exquisitely cut stones glittering in the candlelight as they nestled in carefully arranged hair or against pale skin, while the men cut sharp figures in their finely tailored coats of satin and silk. With a deep breath, Lark straightened her back and began the long procession down the aisle to the dais – the walk of the doomed, her friend Rose had teasingly called it – where the king and the prince awaited her.

  Her gaze met Pipit’s and she gave a slight smile. At seventeen, her younger brother considered such formal occasions a colossal waste of time, and he rolled his eyes with an exaggerated sigh. Her gaze moved on to Made-of-Iron, seated beside him, who gave her a smirk.

  Returning her attention to the front of the room, Lark saw Iron’s cause for amusement as she took in Val’s appearance. Tiny celestes lined the edge of his blue shirt collar, while swirling patterns, embroidered in silver thread, decorated his indigo jacket. His corn-colored hair, which sparkled with glitter, had been swept away from his face, revealing the celeste studs in his ears and the silver star patch at the corner of a blue-shadowed eye. Rings covered each of his fingers, while his finely buffed nails were painted in a dark shade of blue. He watched as Lark covered the remaining distance and climbed the stairs onto the platform.

  “Lady Snowlark, you look lovely, as always.” Val’s voice rang out as she stepped onto the dais. Taller than most woman, she was only a couple of inches shorter than him, and she met his gaze for a moment before moving her attention to the king, who opened his arms expansively as he greeted the guests.

  “Welcome, fellow Cambrians. It affords me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to this ceremony, the claiming of Lady Snowlark. I can tell you that the prince has been most anxiously awaiting this day and is ready to claim his bride.”

  Lark raised an eyebrow. “Most anxiously?” she asked Val softly. She knew that any anxiousness on his part arose from the fact that having a wife by his side would be a significant hindrance to his usual activities.

  “Of course, Little Lark.” His gaze dropped to the celeste nestled between her breasts. “Don’t you know how much I have longed to push aside your silly protests and claim that plump, luscious body of yours. I would be like that stone you wear, feeling your flesh against mine as I sink into your rolls.”

  She felt the color rise in her cheeks as she glared at him. “You mistake me for one of your fawning ladies, Val.”

  “You can choose to be offended, my little Ice Queen, but the fact remains that once I have claimed you, you will be mine, mind, body, and soul.”

  “Only body, Val – the rest remains mine. And you still have two more weeks of wai
ting.”

  She returned her gaze to the king. “One day she will be queen,” he was saying, “although that day is very far away, let me assure you.” He smiled as a ripple of laughter ran obligingly through the crowd. “As is our custom, Prince Valiant has chosen a claiming token for his intended bride, which he will now present to her. This claiming token will be a visible reminder of the honor bestowed on Lady Snowlark of being chosen and claimed by the prince.” He turned to Lark. “Lady Snowlark, do you accept the honor of becoming Prince Valiant’s betrothed?”

  She returned her gaze to Val as he lifted his eyebrows mockingly and took a deep breath. “I do.”

  “And do you understand that from this time forward you will forsake all others and belong solely to him?”

  “I do.”

  “Will you accept the claiming token offered to you by the prince?”

  Val gave her a bland smile. “I will,” Lark said.

  The king moved his gaze to Val. “Prince Valiant, do you claim Lady Snowlark to be your own?”

  Val’s gaze dropped to her chest, before rising back to her face. “I do.”

  “And will you love and cherish Lady Snowlark as your chosen?”

  “I suppose I will.” The king frowned slightly but continued without pausing.

  “Are you ready to present her with your claiming token?”

  He smiled. “I am.”

  “Then in the presence of these witnesses, please claim Lady Snowlark as your own.”

  The king moved back to the table and took his seat as Lord Falcon stepped from the side of the room and mounted the raised platform, carrying a velvet-covered tray. A pair of wide silver cuffs lay on the velvet, intricately carved with a flowing filigree design and inlaid with hundreds of tiny celestes. In the center of each cuff was a large V, topped with a crown. They were beautiful, Lark thought to herself, and as ostentatious as expected.

  Reaching for her hands, Val tugged off the bangles she wore and dropped them to the floor with a clatter, then turned to the tray that Lord Falcon held out to him. Taking the first cuff, he placed it over her forearm, then closed it with a soft snap. A slight fission of energy ran through the cuff into her skin, making her start in surprise. She flipped her hand as Val reached for the second cuff; where there should have been a join, the seam was sealed shut. She glanced at Val as he took her other hand, her breath catching when she saw his expression, and a sliver of trepidation ran through her. She pulled back, but he tightened his grip as he snapped the second cuff onto her forearm. Yanking her hand from his, she turned it to see that the seam was sealed shut, just as with the other cuff. Before she could react, however, Val was grabbing her hand again and raising her arm so that all could see the wide band of filigreed silver. There was a slight gasp as the light of the candles reflected against the stones, making them sparkle as Val turned her arm so everyone could see the gift.

  “Let everyone know that Lady Snowlark has been claimed and now belongs to me!”

  There was a cheering from the back of the hall as the audience rose and began to applaud. Lark’s wrist was still firmly held in the air by Val, and as Lark looked over the crowd, she saw in their expressions their cynical amusement.

  Claimed.

  Owned.

  Possessed.

  She smiled, playing the part they expected of her as Val lowered her hand. “Let the banquet begin,” he announced, moving to his seat. Lark followed his lead, sitting down beside him.

  “How do you open them?” she hissed.

  “You don’t,” he said as servers began to mount the dais. A footman leaned around her to fill her goblet with wine, and a server began to place portions of food on her plate. Val waited until they were done before turning to look at her.

  “Once they’ve been closed, they cannot be opened.”

  “What do you mean, they cannot be opened?” She lifted a hand and examined the cuff more closely. Curling floral vines wound around a large ‘V’ in the middle of each cuff, while sparkling celestes were centered in each flower. She ran her fingers over the seam where the metal joined, searching for a way to spring them open, but the surface was smooth.

  “They’ll remain permanently on your wrists.”

  Her eyes flew to his. “Tell me how to open them.”

  “I am telling you, Lark, they cannot be opened. They are permanently sealed.”

  “That’s impossible!”

  “Is it?” He lifted his glass and took a sip of wine, watching her over the rim.

  “Very well, I will play your game. How is it that they cannot be opened?”

  “Magic.”

  She looked at him incredulously. “Magic? Impossible. There’s no magic left, and even if there was, it’s outlawed!”

  Before the War of the Ancients magic had abounded in Valoria. With it, the Cambrians had built the most beautiful cities with buildings that reached the skies. They had learned the secrets of the earth and commanded the elements, aided by their magical skills. But the Ancients, coming from the mountains, had envied their powers and attacked them, hoping to claim the magic for themselves. Instead, it had been destroyed, along with the beautiful cities of Valoria. As a result, King Valor outlawed whatever magic might have remained, so that no-one would have reason to attack them again.

  Val gave her a smile but remained silent.

  “You found someone to close them with magic?” She frowned as the enormity of that hit her. “How could you?” she hissed, struggling to keep her voice down. She glanced around, relieved that no-one was taking any notice of her agitation.

  “I did it so you’ll not forget that you belong to me.”

  She stared down at the cuffs. “Does your father know?” she finally asked.

  “Of course not. It’s against the law to dabble in magic.”

  “Then perhaps I should let him know.”

  “You won’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because then I’ll be forced to tell him the source of my information.”

  She stared at him for a moment as understanding dawned. “Pip,” she breathed.

  “Of course. Who else? Your brother was kind enough to tell me that there was someone in town who could do magic. Mind you, Pip did make me promise that the person would suffer no harm before passing along the information.”

  “You didn’t tell him what you intended to do, did you?”

  “Does it matter if I did?” He quirked an eyebrow. “No, Lark, he had no clue.”

  Picking up her glass, she swallowed the contents. “There are still two weeks before the joining,” she said icily. “Perhaps you’ll be attacked by a wild boar and lose your manhood on the eve of the ceremony.”

  His eyes flashed with anger but it was gone in a moment, replaced by a sardonic grin. “You would be so cruel as to wish that upon me? Do you care nothing for the women at court who would be devastated by such a loss?”

  “Yes, I’m sure that it would cause mass mourning.”

  “If you just gave me what I want, I wouldn’t have to turn to those other women. Instead, you keep your distance like a virgin queen.”

  “You think I have the slightest interest in being with you?”

  “And yet you consent to be my wife.”

  “I consent to do my duty, nothing more.”

  “Come now, Lark, that’s just cruel! You know I love you!”

  “The only one you love is yourself, Val.”

  “Well, yes, that may be true. But you come a close second.”

  “I need some air.” She pushed herself away from the table, knocking over her chair, which was deftly caught by a footman. The cuffs felt heavy and made her skin itch, but she ignored them until she reached the privacy of the balcony. She attempted to pull them off, but they would not budge. She smacked her forearms against the balcony railing in annoyance, smiling grimly at the crash they caused. She spun around when she heard a snort of laughter behind her
.

  “Tired of the groom already, are you?” Pipit said with a grin.

  Lark glared at her youngest brother for a moment before turning once more to the railing. “The cuffs are closed with magic,” she said. “I can’t get them off.”

  “Magic?” The humor in Pip’s voice was gone. “Val had them sealed with magic?”

  “Yes.” She turned to look at Pip. “It seems that you were the source of his information!”

  “No, damnit! I can’t believe he did that!”

  “How could you tell him? You know what Val’s like!”

  “I never thought he’d do something like that. He asked me if I knew of anyone who did magic. He said he’d heard there was someone in the city, and he wanted to make use of their services!”

  “And it didn’t occur to you to question his motives?”

  “Argh, Lark! I was an idiot! If I’d known what he planned to do, I never would’ve told him. I’m really sorry!”

  “Well, we’ll just have to go back to this person and get him to undo the cuffs.”

  Pip raked his hand through his hair, making the blond strands stand up on end. “We can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I went to see him the other day, and he’s gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “Left in the middle of the night. At least, that’s what his neighbors said. Packed his belongings in a cart and left while it was dark.”

  “He’s gone?” She turned to stare into the darkness. “Perhaps someone knows where he went. Maybe he just moved to the next street.”

  “Lark, I’m really sorry. I’ve already tried to track him down.”

  “But he can’t have just disappeared! Where would he go?” She could hear the desperation in her voice and took a deep breath. “Are you sure he’s still alive?”

  “I’m pretty certain that he wasn’t taken by Val’s men, if that’s what you mean.”

  “If he’s alive, we must find him. Go back to his house, Pip, and see if you can learn something about where he went.”

  “Lark, I’ve already done –”

  “Please, Pip. Perhaps there’s something you overlooked.”