War of the Dragons

by K.N. Lee

  Then, she remembered proper protocol and let go, taking a step back. The guards kept their eyes down, to not embarrass her.

  It was enough to show him she still cared, for he smiled and gave her a nod that he understood how pleased she was to see him.

  “Good to see you as well, your majesty,” he said, bowing to her.

  She rubbed her hands together and clasped them before her. “Rise, Sir Gavin. I summoned you as a friend.”

  He stood to his full height and nodded acknowledgement to Feyda and Perdan.

  She had been saddened that he wasn’t comfortable living in the palace after her offer, but he still visited from time to time. Rickard wasn’t exactly happy about the visits, but he tolerated them with as much grace as he could muster.

  “So,” Gavin said. “Where’s Rick?”

  She shook her head. Rickard hated being called that, and she was sure that’s exactly why Gavin continued to do so. He was an odd character. He showed no fear. Not to her father. Not to her husband.

  She wondered just how powerful he really was.

  “He isn’t the one who summoned you,” she said. “I need a favor.”

  He lifted a thick brow. “Another?”

  She laughed. “Yes. Another.”

  “Fine,” he said and mocked a deep bow. “Anything for the queen.”

  “You’re getting bored in Withrae, aren’t you?”

  “Not necessarily. I have a beautiful woman to keep my bed warm, plenty of free ale, and a shiny new title that gets me pretty much whatever I want in town. Even the snobs who hate magic tolerate me.”

  She motioned for him to sit with her on the bench that sat beneath the tower’s open window. “Why didn’t you tell anyone you were a wizard?”

  “I was wondering when you’d ask me that,” he said, sitting beside her. He shrugged with a sigh. “Because, I’m not a very good one. Never have been. My parents smuggled me away to the monks when I was a boy. My ability to remember things was stronger than my magical abilities. So, the monks focused on honing that craft.”

  “What you did by saving that homicidal mermaid was pretty remarkable. I’d say you’re more powerful than you admit,” Feyda said, stirring the concoction in the cauldron.

  He looked to her. “Luck, is all. I probably can’t do it again if I tried.”

  Rowen studied him. Was he lying? Was there more that he didn’t want to reveal? She didn’t want to think of Gavin as being dishonest, so she believed him. There were things she never knew she could do until her life was on the line. Perhaps they had more in common than either imagined.

  “I guess I cared about Siddhe more than I thought. I couldn’t watch her die,” he said, and Rowen nodded, smiling.

  “You’re a good young man,” she said.

  “I’m decent. Didn’t get me a thank you from her, but that’s not exactly her way. I wasn’t surprised when she vanished in the chaos that night.”

  “Gavin, I need your help. You might have found good fortune here in Withrae, but you still crave adventure, don’t you? Don’t you want more than to be comfortable in that tavern you’ve been living in?”

  He sighed and lifted his brown eyes to hers. “Aye. You know me so well, Rowen.”

  She reached for his hands and took them into her own. “Feyda tells me there is something you can do to help in the war.”

  “I was hoping there wouldn’t be one,” he said. “I thought the Dragons had a peace treaty.”

  “I was as well, but the Trinity brothers want Withrae and they will do anything to get it,” she said and looked down at his hands. “You see, King Kelton has kidnapped my sister. He killed her husband and destroyed her estates. The peace treaty is no more. The humans are invading Dragon lands and have declared war. If we don’t do something, he will kill her.”

  Gavin’s jaw clenched.

  “What would you have me do? I’m at your service.”

  A smile came back to her lips. She knew she could count on him. Though he was still a bit of a mystery to her, he had never let her down. Once, she had thought he was blindly loyal to her father when he’d been his scribe. Now, he was a dear friend and a valuable ally.

  She nodded to Feyda. “Feyda has a plan.”

  “What kind?”

  “One that involves traveling across the Black Sea and summoning Vaeryn, The Sea Goddess,” Rowen said. She looked into his eyes. “I need you to gain access to the mermaid kingdoms.”

  “Oh,” he said, his face paling. With a nervous laugh, he scratched his head. “Only that.”

  “This way,” Rowen said, leading Gavin down to the palace vaults.

  The vault keepers glanced up from their books. They sat on seats with podium desks in front of them. Large books with golden and bronze bindings were always outstretched before them, being constantly studied.

  “I come down here often,” she said. “The old prophecies have all been recorded in some of the scrolls and books held here. The Withraen royal line has always taken great pride in keeping the old history and research safe and cared for.”

  “Let me know if you need anything, your majesty,” Vault Master Osirin said, adjusting his bifocals as he looked Gavin up and down.

  “I will,” she said, giving him a nod. “We will only be a moment.”

  She walked between the two, with Gavin behind her, and into the dimly lit room they went.

  It was large, with torches at the end of each bookcase the stretched high into the vaulted ceiling. The shelves were packed with old books and scrolls rolled and stuffed into cylindrical cases, and stacked onto one another.

  “Vault Master Osirin has shown me one particular series of prophecies recorded in the first century.”

  “Who saw them?” Gavin asked, looking up at the tall bookcases with a look of wonder.

  She smiled. Finally, someone who appreciated books probably more than she did.

  He traced some of the bindings and began pulling those of interest off the shelf.

  “They were first seen by the oracle of Anumie.”

  Nodding, he opened a book and began reading. “Sulinia of Parean,” he said and Rowen raised a brow.

  “Correct,” she said, a bit surprised by his knowledge. “How did you know?”

  He shrugged and flipped through the pages. Then, he slammed it closed and put it back on the shelf.

  “You did not just memorize that book, did you?”

  A smirk came to his lips. “Maybe,” he said, with a wink.

  She shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. “You really are a mystery, Gavin.”

  “Not really,” he said. “I’m just a regular nobody who gets lucky sometimes.”

  She could never tell if he was simply modest, or just hiding something.

  “Right,” she said, and turned back toward her usual study nook at the back of the vault. “This way.”

  The only sound in the entire room was that of pages being turned by other keepers and Gavin’s boots on the slick stone floor.

  “What do you know about Sulinia of Parean?”

  “She was a great prophet in the first century who was ultimately burned at the stake as a witch. Tragic, really. They say she was beautiful and simply spoke the truth of her dreams.”

  “True,” Rowen said, sliding into her seat on the long, wooden bench. She motioned for Gavin to sit beside her.

  He sat down and moved close until their arms nearly touched, and looked down at the open book she had on the table. The smell of burning candles was strong, and the heat from their flames warmed her cheeks as the two candelabras on her table burned bright.

  “But, there’s more to the story,” she said in a soft voice.

  His brows furrowed as he read where she placed her fingertip on the text.

  “See? Here,” she said.

  He read the entire page, and gently moved her finger aside to read the rest of the book.

  She could only imagine what she would do with such a power as he closed the book,
having read and memorized its entirety. When he turned to her, the look in his eyes made the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stand on end.

  “What is it?”

  Gavin looked her in the eyes, his face paling. Then, he looked from side to side and leaned in close, lowering his voice. “The red dragon,” he said, and fear rose in her belly. “You’re not safe here.”

  “I know,” she said. “That’s what I was thinking as well. Sulinia said that the half-blood will destroy the world with that of the Red Dragon. At first I thought it was talking about Ioan, but I’ve seen that prophecy many times, and the Dragon is small, like a child. It’s Ophelia.”

  He shook his head. “No. You don’t understand.”

  He took her face into his hands and leaned even closer and chills ran up her spine.

  “It is not your sister or Ioan, Rowen,” he whispered and she tilted her head with confusion.

  “Who then?”

  He placed a hand on her belly and realization washed over her like a bucket of cold water.

  “It’s your baby.”

  Chapter 17

  Today was the day. The ship had sailed across the sea and docked in a port just off the coast of the Parean Jungle.

  Sweat accumulated on the palms of her hands and she couldn’t stop fidgeting.

  Today, Ophelia would meet the other two Trinity kings, King Kelton’s brothers. Her heart thumped in her chest as the carriage carried her across the salt lands. Once, the sea had covered all of Trinity and its many islands. Volcanos had erupted, and lava had paved the way for lush, tropical jungles abundant with fruit, animals, and the loveliest flowers Ophelia had ever seen.

  Harrow, where she’d been born and raised, was a fishing town, and she’d always thought it was a bit boring. She and Rowen would play in the garden and fantasize about a life outside of Harrow. Maybe they’d travel the Black Sea and see the giants in Emalore. Or, fly across the floating kingdom of Pegasius. A smile came to her face as she remembered those fantasies.

  After moving to the island of Jeparthi to marry Henry, she’d been exposed to a whole new world. And now, despite being a prisoner held for ransom, she marveled at the white landscape that stretched out all around her. Mounds of salt left behind from the sea surrounded her. Scant palm trees had emerged and reached high toward the blue sky.

  To her right was the clear, blue-green sea, and to her left was salt that led to a thick jungle, and at the top of a mountain in the distance was a palace. The golden walls caught the light of the sun and reflected it back over the sea. Ophelia had to squint to look at it, and when she did, she couldn’t look away.

  The king did not ride with her. He flew ahead, high above the clouds with his guards positioned at his side. A golden Dragon amongst simple gray ones. If he was so beautiful, she couldn’t help but wonder what his younger brothers were like.

  She held on as the carriage was lifted from the ground and up into the sky by two massive Dragons. She knew they were afraid of her flying away if allowed to shift into her Dragon form, and so, they kept her drunk on a concoction that muted her ability to transform. Even though she’d had her last dose that morning when she had awakened, she could still feel it running through her veins. It constantly rushed up and down her arms and legs, like liquid fire.

  Even though she hadn’t done much physical activity outside of pacing her room in the tower, the drug kept her tired, and feeling as though she’d ran for miles or lifted a boulder over her head.

  “Do you need water, my lady?” Luca’Rosi asked, breaking Ophelia from her thoughts.

  Yawning, she shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m just ready to get there, already. If they’re going to kill me, I want to know.”

  Luca pursed her lips. “They would not do such a thing. They need you.”

  “Do they?” Ophelia asked, raising a brow. “All I dream about at night is ways the Trinity brothers can put an end to my life. I’m only eighteen. I’m too young to be haunted by such thoughts.”

  “Stop thinking that way. You’re going to be fine.”

  Shrugging, Ophelia closed her eyes and rested her head on the seat. Her stomach bubbled as she realized that her fate was to be decided in just a few moments. “If you say so, Luca.”

  “I know it. Despite what the people say about your sister, I know she won’t let anyone harm you.”

  Ophelia opened her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “At least someone has some sense. Everything they say about her is false. Yes, she may be half human. But, that’s never made her any different than the rest of us. And, you’re right. She won’t let me perish. I am sure she’s thinking of a plan as we speak.”

  “Good girl. Keep a positive attitude and all will be well. For now, we will keep quiet, do as they say, and bide our time.”

  She nodded, and looked to the palace in the distance. Butterflies filled her stomach the closer they got to it. Life would never be the same, and for the first time in her life she needed to muster all of her courage and change her own fate. Father was dead. She no longer had to do his bidding.

  Luca was right. This was her moment.

  “I can do that,” she said.

  Chapter 18

  The room was silent as Ophelia was marched inside. Her hands had been bound, though she wasn’t sure why they feared her at all. She was a simple Dragon girl, born to a Duke and Duchess. Was it because her sister was half human? That didn’t mean anything to her. Yes, they had different fathers, but why would they worry about her?

  There were rumors that Rowen was part wizard. Perhaps that was why they feared Ophelia.

  Nonsense.

  It had to be something else. Her mother was a beautiful woman, and even more beautiful Dragon. But, nothing special besides that and coming from one of the founding families of Withrae. As she walked toward the three thrones at the end of the Great Hall, she wished her mother was there with her. Though Luca’Rosi was at her side, she couldn’t help but tense as she looked to the statues of gargoyles that lined the walls, and how they stretched upward for what looked like a mile into the sky.

  The hall was empty, except for the three kings at the end. As she walked closer, she began to make out their faces.

  As she’d expected, each was more handsome than the next. King Kelton sat in the throne to the left, statuesque, with his legs crossed before him. In the middle had to be King Shelton. She deduced this assumption since he sat in the middle throne. The throne of the palace, with his crest hanging from a banner behind him. That meant, at his other side was the eldest, King Tilton, who had kind eyes from what she could see. Blue as the sea, and a clean-shaven face. His hair was cut shorter than his brothers, but a bright blond just like theirs.

  Her husband never looked at her quite like that. The opposite, actually. It was a little-known secret that Lord Wickenhem preferred the company of men, and had essentially married her for appearances sake.

  He never even touched her.

  She longed for someone to touch her. Someone as handsome as King Tilton.

  She gulped, and reached for Luca’s hand. A prisoner should not have such thoughts about her captors.

  “Well,” King Shelton said, standing. He was taller than King Kelton, and with broader shoulders. She could tell, even though he wore a heavy cloak over his pristine gray tunic and trousers with golden trim. “This is the Queen’s sister. Interesting. They look so similar, from what I’ve seen of artwork done of Queen Rowen.”

  “Yes,” Kelton said. “I thought the same. Darker hair, same eye shape. Fuller in the bosom.”

  Shelton grinned, and stroked his golden beard.

  Ophelia looked to King Tilton, who rolled his eyes.

  “Is that what we’ve been assembled for?” Tilton asked. “Because if I was summoned from my part of the islands to sit here and listen to the two of you remark on the poor girl’s looks, I will take my leave.”

  He stood and Shelton held up a hand, stopping him.

  “No,” he said, becomi
ng serious. “Sit down, brother. It was you who set things in motion, and as the eldest, you can decide where she will reside.”

  “I will,” Tilton said, glancing at Ophelia. “If we can all agree to act like gentlemen. Otherwise, I will take no part in shaming her. She may be our prisoner, but she is still a lady.”

  “Fine,” Shelton said, clasping his hands before him. His eyes went up from Ophelia’s chest, and to her eyes.

  Tilton sat down in his throne, but just at the edge, as if he was ready to leave if they decided to act like lustful teenaged boys once again.

  Uncomfortable, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other as the three brothers examined her with their eyes, and then whispered to one another in hushed tones.

  She could hear them, but it didn’t matter. They spoke an entirely different language at that moment. Her cheeks burned as King Tilton stood and approached her.

  He was tall, like Kelton, and in his late twenties. There was something about his presence and air that made her heart thump in her chest and her breaths grow shallow. Once he stood before her, she had to focus on keeping her composure. Never had she encountered a man with such presence—who commanded attention. Not even her father had been as imposing. He certainly thought he was, and while cruel, he wasn’t a natural leader like the specimen before her.

  And to think, Tilton was only human.

  “I think it makes sense for her to reside in my palace,” Tilton said, breaking the silence. His gaze lifted to hers and he stood, towering above the others.

  Kelton’s shoulders slumped and he rolled his eyes. “Greedy bastard. I was the one to claim her first.”

  “Enough,” Shelton said and gave Tilton a stern nod. “Very well. It shall be as Tilton says. We shall reconvene in the strategy room before you take her to your palace. Keep her locked in the north tower until then.”

  “I’ll notify you when we’ll reconvene. For now, I want to study our hostage. Come,” Tilton said, and dutifully she followed without another glance at the other two men as he led her and Luca’Rosi away from the throne room.