Into the Shadows

by Linda K Hopkins

  He leaned forward and patted her hand. “That’s very kind of you, Lark. Now what do you want to know?”

  “Well …” She hesitated, wondering how much to reveal. “I am wondering about the magic that used to be in Valoria, and what happened to it.”

  “Magic?” He looked startled. “Whatever brought this on?”

  “I, er, overheard someone say that there are still some magic makers left who practice in secret.”

  “Who said that?” he asked sharply. He rose and checked outside the door, before shutting it firmly. “Is this one of Pip’s tales?”

  “Well, no, it wasn’t from Pip that I first heard it.”

  “Hmm.” Clem picked up his teacup and leaned back in his seat. “There’s not much to know, quite frankly. As you’re already aware, Citadel was destroyed in the War of the Ancients, along with all the books and records of the Cambrian people. Nothing was left. And the people that survived wanted to forget, not remember. It was years before anything was written down. When it was, magic was barely mentioned.”

  “But there must be something!”

  “Piney mentions a stave, while other sources talk about a wand, or an orb. One manuscript mentions an object that glowed and contained a great deal of power. But where it came from, and what happened to it, are shrouded in mystery. We assume that magic helped to build Citadel, since from all reports it was magnificent beyond belief, but we have nothing to prove that this was, in fact, the case. The ruins have been examined, of course, and we can tell that Citadel was a great city, but no more than that. We’ve even searched the Rhymer records, such as they are.”

  “Rhymer records? Why?”

  “At that time, most Rhymers resided in Pendora, far enough away from Eldora and Citadel to remain neutral during the war. They had no skills or power that the Ancients desired, and they were left alone. It was thought that they might have records that would shed light on our Cambrian cities.”

  “I take it they don’t?”

  “No. They clearly did not concern themselves with Cambrian affairs. The only mentions they made of us refer to the business dealings between our peoples.”

  “We have business dealings with the Rhymers?” That was a surprise.

  Clem smiled in amusement. “They ceased long before the war. As time went by, the Cambrians had no need for the Rhymers, or the goods they had to offer. Some trade resumed after the war, but by then, relations between our peoples had deteriorated to the point where neither wanted to extend them.”

  “Is that when they started to attack us?”

  “They had some petty grievances which served as a starting point. Their discontent increased as time went by.”

  “And now they want to start another war?”

  “So it would seem.”

  Lark took a sip of tea. She had not come here to discuss the Rhymers. She cast back her thoughts to what Clem had said about magic. “Could it be that the magic was not truly destroyed?” she asked. “That it’s still around, just to a lesser extent?”

  “There have been no reports of that.”

  “But that could be because it’s been outlawed. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still exist.”

  “True. But as you have pointed out, no-one is going to advertise the fact that they have magic.”

  Lark finished her tea and placed the cup on the table. “Why was magic outlawed?” she asked. “It seems like a drastic step, given that it had already been destroyed.”

  “There is some debate around that. It seems that King Valor was concerned that if magic was practiced, it would make us a target for another attack, and having just come through one war, he didn’t think his people could manage another.”

  “But the Ancients had been destroyed!”

  “Other enemies could rise up, Lark. The Kingdom of Raynor is just across the ocean.”

  “The Raynorians have little reason to attack us.”

  “True. But that might not be the case if we still possessed magic.”

  “I suppose you have a point. But how does someone practice magic? And how could it have been destroyed?”

  “That is not something that I can answer, Lark.”

  Lark selected a cookie from the plate that Heath had brought with the tea and nibbled it slowly.

  “Do you think the Ancient in the mountains was around in the war?” she asked. “It was a very long time ago.”

  “It’s possible, although it would have been very young. The writings we have suggest that all the Ancients died in the war.”

  “But as you said, those were written long after the fact. And in all the chaos, one may have slipped away.”

  “Scholars have long speculated that some might have survived and fled. Killing so many of the beasts was a tremendous feat.”

  “How exactly were they killed? I know the king devised some sort of weapon, but what was it?”

  “A massive spear that could pierce the Ancient’s armor. The king had his engineers design a special launching device that could hurl the spears across a great distance. Dozens of the machines were built and placed in strategic positions around the city and surrounding countryside. Each spear had a thick chain attached to it to drag the creatures to the ground. They put up quite a fight, if the reports are to be believed, and it was in the last battle that the city was destroyed, everything burned until it was just a pile of smoldering ash.” Clem removed his glasses and carefully cleaned the lenses with the edge of his sweater. “It wasn’t just the Ancients that died that day, but more than half our people as well, including the first queen.”

  “First queen? Valor had more than one wife?”

  “Yes. You and the prince are descended from his second wife, Queen Rose.”

  “And there were no children?”

  “Not that we’re aware of. Cedar mentions a son, but none of the other writers mention children from the first marriage, so if there were any, they must have died in infancy.”

  “But I’ve never even heard of another wife! I’m sure there’s no mention of her in the family history.”

  “It doesn’t seem to be very well known. I suppose the fact that she didn’t produce any heirs meant that she wasn’t worth remembering.”

  “That’s terrible!”

  “Queens are meant to produce heirs, my dear,” he said gently.

  “Yes.” She rose from her seat. “I have taken enough of your time. I fear that if I remain much longer, your assistant will chase me out!”

  Clem laughed. “He’s very protective, to be sure, but I don’t think he’ll chase you out.” He walked with her to the door. “Don’t be such a stranger, my dear. You know I always have time for you.”

  She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t work too hard, Clem. And I’ll look for you at the joining ceremony.”

  “I will be there,” he promised as she stepped from the room and made her way thoughtfully along the passage.

  Chapter 5

  It was late afternoon when Lark arrived back at the palace, the air warm as she climbed out of the carriage and paused to soak up a few rays of sunshine before heading inside. Past experience had taught her that it would not take long for her porcelain skin to turn pink then redden into a painful burn, and after a few moments, she climbed the stairs and headed into the cool shadows of the palace. The staircase that led to the private quarters was to the right, but instead she turned to the left, determined to seek out Val in his office and discover whether he had taken steps towards retrieving the dragonsbane for Mother. Her route took her up another flight of stairs and past the receiving rooms where the king met with visiting dignitaries, and further along, the throne room. The room was kept locked to preserve the dignity of the throne and ensure that none other than the king ever sat on the hallowed seat. She could still remember the day Crag had told her proudly that he, Val, and Iron had discovered the special place where the steward kept the throne room key, and when he wasn’
t looking, had filched it and spent the day playing king. Crag, of course, had refused to share the key’s location with her, and despite her asking numerous times over the years, he had never revealed the secret.

  Val was not in his office, which Lark did not find surprising. The space may have been designated as Val’s working area, but she doubted he spent much time there at all. When asked where he might be, his private secretary just shrugged his shoulders and gave her a wry smile.

  “Anywhere but here.”

  “Did he say anything to you about retrieving dragonsbane?”

  The secretary frowned. “No, my lady, not that I recall. Perhaps he took care of it himself?”

  “Yes, perhaps.” She left the office and headed back the way she had come, pausing when she heard a giggle coming from the throne room. Taking the handles firmly in her grasp, she flung open the doors, then stopped and stared at the sight that met her eyes. Seated on the throne was Val, a woman straddled over his lap. Her gown was pushed down her arms, revealing bare breasts, and her head was thrown back as she thrust herself into the prince’s mouth. He pulled away at the sound of the door opening, then slowly grinned.

  “Ah, the Ice Queen. Come to join us, have you?”

  “As if I want anything to do with you or your whores.”

  The woman bristled, but Val laughed. “Too right, my dear. Now, now,” he said, glancing at the woman, “no need to be offended. But Lady Lark is, indeed, far above you!”

  “You disgust me, Val,” Lark said, turning to go.

  “If you just gave me what I asked for,” he said, “I wouldn’t have to resort to women such as this.”

  The woman gasped but Val ignored her. “Women like this?” she hissed. She pushed herself from his lap, and with an angry scowl, gave his cheek a resounding slap. She yanked her sleeves back to her shoulders, then spinning on her heel, stormed from the room, narrowly missing Lark, who hastily stepped aside.

  Lark began to follow, then paused and turned back. “The herbs for mother. Did you send someone to fetch them?”

  “The herbs?” He frowned for a moment. “Ah, yes, I remember now. No.”

  “No? You did not send someone?”

  “I did not.”

  “And may I ask why?”

  He shrugged as he rose from the throne, and reaching for his shirt, tugged it on. “I forgot.”

  She stared at him incredulously. “You forgot?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “You offered to do this, and I depended on you. If you remember, it was my intention to ask Lieutenant Rill for help.”

  “What I do remember is that I asked one thing of you, which you were unwilling to give.” His gaze met hers.

  “I see,” she said. She turned and headed towards the door. “Not only are you the most contemptible and despicable person I know,” she threw over her shoulder, “but you are also completely without honor.”

  “That’s too cruel, Lark.”

  “And yet, completely true.”

  She stepped out of the room and headed down the passage in the direction of her chambers, her hands clenched in anger as she considered Val’s selfishness and detestable behavior. His lack of respect for the throne, his lack of humility for his behavior, and his lack of repentance for not bothering to find someone to retrieve the herbs all made her shake with anger.

  She was almost at her door when she heard someone call her name and glanced around to see Pip. “You look ready to throw someone out the window,” he said, following her into her room.

  “I am,” she growled. “Val is the most selfish, arrogant …” The words trailed away as she sat down on a settee and stared at the cuffs in disgust.

  “What’s he done now?”

  “He offered to send someone to retrieve some herbs for Mother. Madam Breena believes that they’ll help Mother’s headaches, but she has no way of retrieving them herself.”

  “And I’m guessing that he’s not done it?”

  “No. In the meantime, Mother continues to suffer.”

  “I’ll go.”

  “You? No, it’s all the way up to the Teesbeck. I can’t allow you to go that far.”

  “I’ve been that far before, Lark.” She lifted her eyebrows as her gaze met his, and he threw up his hands in exasperation. “Fine, you go, and I’ll accompany you.”

  “I can’t …” She paused.

  “Why not? Are you so accustomed to being told what you can and cannot do, that you won’t do something to help Mother?”

  “That’s not fair, Pip!”

  “But is it true?”

  She reached for a chocolate and turned it between her fingers before placing it in her mouth. She considered Pip’s words as she slowly chewed. Had she become nothing more than a marionette, moved by the pull of a string?

  “I could see if I have a morning free,” she said slowly.

  “Good. Let me know when we’re going.”

  “No, wait, I can’t just ride out in search of herbs.” She rose and began pacing the room. “I just need to figure out who I can send.”

  “Why can’t you? Are you not the future queen? Surely you can decide for yourself?”

  Could she? Pip’s words felt like a barb, piercing her skin. Had she not told Val that he would not own her? Had she become so spineless? “Very well. But don’t say anything to anyone, Pip. If the commander finds out, he’ll refuse us permission to leave.”

  “I won’t say a word,” he promised. “I have plenty of experience in keeping my adventures to myself.”

  The door opened and Neta walked in. “Ah, here you are. How was the library?”

  “I’ll speak to you later,” Pip told Lark, slipping out the door.

  “Neta,” she said, “what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”

  “You have a dress fitting in the morning,” Neta said, “but your late morning appointment with the children’s orchestra has been postponed. Apparently, a number of the children have fallen ill with summer sickness and are unable to perform.”

  “How unfortunate. Please write them a note, wishing them a speedy recovery. What about tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Tea with Lady Rose. And in the evening,” Neta continued, “you’re scheduled to have supper with the king and the prince and enjoy a small soiree afterward.”

  “Very good.”

  “Now, this afternoon …”

  Lark listened as Neta listed the afternoon’s activities, but only with half a mind. Now that she had decided on a course of action, she felt a small thrill of anticipation at the thought of leaving the palace. Retrieving herbs was not much of an adventure, to be certain, but with a string of social engagements with people she barely knew being all she had to look forward to, it seemed very thrilling. After all, when last had she left the palace and allowed herself the chance of escaping all responsibilities? She could not remember the last time.

  “My lady, are you listening?” asked Neta.

  “What’s that? Yes, of course, whatever you suggest, Neta.”

  The evening function was a dinner for another charity that she supported, and it was late by the time she finally arrived home. Instead of heading to her chambers, however, she made her way to Pip’s bedroom. She pushed open the door to find him sprawled across his bed, piles of books scattered around him.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, stepping into the room.

  “Reading up on the war.”

  “Why?”

  “I thought I might find something about the Shadow Warriors.”

  “Any luck?”

  “Nope. So, what’s the plan?”

  “We will leave tomorrow at first light.” She glanced at the books. “Have you discovered anything more about magic makers?”

  “No. If there are any, they’re very well hidden.”

  Lark stared down at the cuffs. “My skin is already chafing under them – a few more days and my arms will be rubbed raw!�
�� She smiled ruefully. “Perhaps I should ask Madam Breena for an ointment.”

  “Or a poison,” Pip retorted.

  Lark laughed. “Yes, maybe. Should I meet you at the stables in the morning?”

  “Yes. I’ll see you then.”

  “Goodnight, Pip.”

  Lark had decided to tell Neta that she was planning an early morning ride, although she kept the reason for the ride to herself, knowing that the handmaid would be adamantly opposed to such an idea. Even so, it took a while before Neta believed that Lark was serious about her desire to go riding before it was even light; not that Lark could blame her – she could not remember when last she had actually done so. This led to another problem – the lack of suitable riding clothes. Neta finally managed to locate a riding outfit of green serge, with a jacket and close-fitting pants. The jacket, nipped in at the waist, had buttons down the front and a demi-train that fell down the back of her legs. A feathered hat completed the outfit, but Lark firmly insisted that she had no need of a hat for an early morning ride.

  “But you know how your skin needs protection from the sun.”

  “I doubt that hat will provide even an inch of protection,” Lark retorted. Neta looked doubtful, and Lark smiled. “I will be fine, Neta.”

  She was quite worn out by the time Neta finally exited the room. She had been determined to assist Lark in getting dressed the following morning, but Lark had firmly refused the offer. Neta finally laid the clothes out on a chair, her mouth puckered in disapproval. Lark lay down with a sigh as the door closed behind her, thinking of the day that lay ahead. She found herself quite excited about the adventure that lay before her. Somewhere, between girlhood and womanhood, she had lost the zest for life she’d once had; perhaps she could regain a spark of that joy as she crept from the palace in the early morning like a wayward delinquent and chased after herbs behind a waterfall. She smiled as she plumped her pillows and pulled the blanket around her. The mattress was soft, and the sheets smelled clean and fresh. Rolling onto her side, she fell into a deep, untroubled sleep.

  Chapter 6