The Power to See

by Jennifer Anne Davis

  Everyone on the Davis Divas Street Team—thank you for your help spreading the word about my books!!! You girls are wonderful and I’m honored to have your help.

  Jennifer graduated from the University of San Diego with a degree in English and a teaching credential. Afterwards, she finally married her best friend and high school sweetheart. Jennifer is currently a full-time writer and mother of three young children. Her days are spent living in imaginary worlds and fueling her own kids’ creativity.

  Visit Jennifer online at

  www.JenniferAnneDavis.com.

  If you loved this book check out the complete best-selling True Reign Series by: Jennifer Anne Davis! The first book is free!

  Turn the page to read the first few chapters of The Key.

  Mako

  Screams of the dying echoed throughout the castle.

  As Mako made his way toward the stairwell, he kept to the shadows cast by the setting sun. A deep, throaty laugh carried down the hall. Mako slid into an empty room, pressing his body flat against the wall next to the door.

  “That way,” a man ordered. “This section has already been taken care of. Go to the east wing. Check every room. No one is to be left alive.”

  A group of enemy soldiers dressed in battle gear marched past without noticing Mako. They carried weapons—swords and daggers—all dripping with blood. Mako’s fist tightened around the hilt of his sword, his muscles tense and ready to attack. He held his breath and forced himself to remain still instead of charging the soldiers. When the last man stepped around the corner at the end of the hallway, Mako crept out of the room.

  A deafening rumble shook the castle, causing small pieces of the ceiling to cascade down like snow. An hour earlier, the fearless king had led his soldiers to the docks to fight the invading army. A messenger arrived ten minutes ago with news that the king and his sons were dead. As commander, it was Mako’s duty to protect the remaining royal family.

  Mako ran up four flights of stairs and down an empty corridor. At the tapestry depicting a castle shrouded in clouds on a mountaintop, he shoved it aside and entered the secret passageway. Darkness and a musty smell engulfed him. Feeling along the rough walls, he counted as he moved through the tunnel. After thirty paces, he turned left. Then at fifty paces, he stopped. There was supposed to be a door directly to his right. His hands came across splintering wood, and he pushed the door open a couple of inches. Mako peered into the royal wing. It was silent. Slipping out of the passageway, he unsheathed his sword and entered the main sitting room, which was used only by the royal family.

  A baby cried from a room on the right, the sound similar to his daughter’s, making his chest tighten with concern. Were his baby daughter and wife still alive? Or had the enemy gotten to them too? Mako took a shaky breath and progressed toward the doorway, limiting his steps to the rugs and avoiding the stone floor. Glancing inside the room, he realized it was the royal nursery. Mako raised his sword and held it ready, then counted to three and stormed inside.

  Movement came from a curtain across the room. “Who’s there?” he demanded.

  The queen stepped out from behind the heavy fabric, her face red, hair wild and untamed. “Commander!” she cried, clutching her wailing baby tight against her chest. “We’re under attack! Where are my husband and sons? Are they all right?”

  Unable to look her in the eyes, Mako said, “Queen Kayln, we must get you and the princess into the tunnels.”

  Mako took hold of the queen’s elbow and led her back through the passageway. When they reached the stairwell, it was still empty. Mako and the queen hugged the wall while they descended to the first floor, the baby princess squirming in her mother’s arms.

  As they neared his bedchamber, Mako prayed his wife and baby daughter were hiding safely inside. He rounded a corner and saw the door to his quarters hanging open. Bloody footprints led away from his room and down the corridor.

  Mako tensed and forced himself to step through the arched doorway. His wife lay twisted awkwardly on the floor, her glazed eyes staring up at him. Her throat had been slit. Blood pooled around her body, its metallic smell thick in the air. Mako’s legs buckled, and he fell to his knees, feeling for her pulse. It was too late to help her.

  Perhaps no one had noticed his baby daughter, Tabitha, tucked inside her cradle in the corner of the room. Mako ran over to her. The white blanket she was swaddled in was crimson with fresh blood. The baby’s round, chubby face looked peaceful—but a knife with a silver sun on the hilt protruded from her chest. Slipping his large hands under the damp, red cloth, Mako picked Tabitha up, choking back a sob.

  Everyone he loved was gone. He swore to kill those responsible for the blood spilt today.

  He placed his daughter back in the cradle, kissing her forehead gently. Then he ran over to his dead wife, kneeling next to her. He closed her eyelids and removed her wedding ring. Tears dripped from his cheek onto her lifeless face.

  “I’ll always love you,” he whispered.

  A woman screamed and heavy footsteps pounded across the bedchamber directly above, followed by a loud thump. Mako stood, remembering the queen and princess still standing in the corridor.

  “There isn’t much time.” Mako pulled them inside. He closed the door and shoved a dresser in front of it.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

  Unable to speak, Mako just nodded. The lives of the queen and princess depended on him. He rummaged through his wife’s clothes until he found a brown cloak.

  “Your Majesty, please put this on.”

  “No,” the queen answered, her eyes fixated on Tabitha. She squared her shoulders, and then looked at Mako. “Emperor Hamen sent his army to kill us. He won’t stop until they do.”

  “I promised the king I would protect you and the princess.”

  Her eyes widened. “My husband and sons?” she asked.

  “Dead,” Mako confirmed.

  Nodding, the queen said with a weak voice, “Emperor Hamen wants to take over Greenwood Island. He can’t have control until the royal family is dead. Princess Amer and myself are the only ones standing in his way. I have to save her.” Queen Kayln gazed down at her daughter, still crying in her arms.

  Mako nodded. “Emperor Hamen will need a dead baby as proof, and we’ll give him one.” He knelt down on a knee, placing his sword on the ground before him. Mako took the queen’s right hand and lowered his head.

  “Your Majesty, I promise to avenge the royal family’s deaths and preserve the royal line.” He hated these barbarians as much as she did. He would destroy them all and make them pay for what they had done. Mako pressed his lips to the queen’s ruby ring, sealing the promise.

  Mako stood and watched the queen. She kissed the princess, and then tenderly laid her down on Mako’s bed. Queen Kayln removed the baby’s blanket and slipped a red velvet pouch out of the bodice of her gown, tucking it under the collar of the princess’s dress.

  “I love you, my darling child. Keep this close to your heart. I’ll always be watching over you.”

  With trembling hands, Mako picked up his dead baby and removed the knife, tossing it to the ground as if it were on fire. The queen handed Mako the princess’s royal blanket. He wrapped Tabitha in it, and kissed her forehead like she was still alive.

  “Princess Amer is all that is left,” the queen said, wiping her tears. “Even if she never fulfills her duty as ruler of our land, I want her to live.”

  She bent down and pressed her lips to her daughter’s cheek one last time. The baby cried, her tiny hand reaching out and clutching onto the queen’s hair. The queen’s body trembled as she firmly took hold of the loose strand, pulling it free from her daughter’s grasp.

  Queen Kayln moved away from the bed. Mako knew it was taking an enormous amount of willpower and love to make the sacrifice she was making.

  “I trust you will fulfill your promise,” the queen said. “Avenge our deaths, and protect my child.�
�

  Mako placed Tabitha in her arms, and she clutched the baby against her chest as if it were her own.

  “You have my sworn oath, Your Majesty.”

  Mako shoved the dresser away from the door. The hallway was empty. He nodded and the queen left, running down the corridor with a sense of purpose.

  Mako picked up the whimpering princess, swaddling her in one of his brown shirts. He was in survival mode, his jaw set, eyes steely and ready to kill. He pushed his grief aside so he could protect Princess Amer. Using his belt, he strapped her to his chest and put on his riding cape.

  Going to the back of his room, Mako removed the tall mirror from the wall, revealing an entrance to the tunnels. He gripped the hilt of his sword and stepped into darkness.

  Rema: Seventeen Years Later

  The sun shone bright overhead. Rema leaned forward in the saddle and nudged Snow’s ribs, encouraging him to move faster. The horse practically flew over the deserted dirt path, the surrounding forest zooming past her. One wrong move and she’d collide with a tree.

  “Come on!” Rema yelled. Snow responded with a burst of energy. Rema chanced a look back over her shoulder—Bren was a good thirty feet behind.

  Snow bolted over the fallen greenwood tree serving as their finish line, and Rema laughed. Slowing Snow to a trot, Rema watched as Bren and his horse thundered past her, kicking up dust.

  Bren pulled the reins of his horse and trotted back toward her.

  “I can’t believe you won, again. And bareback,” Bren said, shaking his head. “It’s because you’re smaller than me. Snow can run faster with a lighter rider.”

  Bren wasn’t much taller than Rema, but he weighed considerably more. He was built just like his father—stocky and strong.

  “Yes,” Rema mused, “that must be it. I’m sure it has nothing to do with my well-trained horse and my excellent riding abilities.”

  “You are something else,” Bren chuckled. “Come on, you need to get home before your aunt and uncle realize what we’re doing.”

  Rema knew he was right. Not only was she bareback, but her dress was pulled together between her legs, allowing her to ride like a man. If Uncle Kar ever found out about Rema and Bren’s races, he’d restrict Rema’s riding—the one and only true freedom she had.

  She reached back, making sure her blonde hair was still secure in a knot at the base of her neck. Finding it intact, Rema relaced her hands through Snow’s mane.

  “Race you!” she laughed, kicking her heels into Snow’s ribs.

  It sounded like Bren mumbled, “You’ve got to be kidding,” but Rema couldn’t be sure; she was already flying through the forest again.

  Rema and Bren had been friends for as long as she could remember. Their races started when she was ten years old, when Bren had insisted that girls couldn’t ride as well as boys. Of course, Rema couldn’t let him believe this misguided notion, so she challenged him to a race. Rema won by the length of three horses. The two friends had been racing ever since.

  Uncle Kar and Aunt Maya’s land was about a mile from the forest. The dirt road leading into town passed in front of their modest wooden home and the barn and horse pasture were both situated behind it.

  As soon as they entered the pasture, Rema slid off Snow and untied her dress. She reached back and unknotted her hair, letting it fall down around her shoulders. Bren also dismounted.

  “Next time we switch horses,” he said, running his hand through his thick, dark hair.

  Rema laughed. “It won’t matter. I’ll still win. At some point, you’re just going to have to realize I’m the better rider. Always have been, always will be.” She smiled sweetly.

  Bren shook his head and grinned. “Don’t look now, but your Aunt Maya is coming.”

  Aunt Maya was wearing one of her nicer dresses, and her gray hair was neatly pulled into a bun. As Aunt Maya neared, her gaze narrowed on Rema. “Why are you out of breath?”

  Not wanting to answer, Rema changed the subject. “Is someone here?” she asked, wondering why her aunt was dressed so nicely.

  Maya looked from Rema to Bren, and then back again. “No,” she said. “But we need to talk. Alone.”

  Rema was about to say something when she felt Bren tense next to her. His hands fidgeted with his horse reins.

  “Well, uh, I better get going,” Bren stammered, not looking in Rema’s direction. He turned and led his horse away, his walk stiff.

  Rema’s skin prickled. Something was wrong. Maybe her aunt and uncle had discovered she’d been racing with Bren. Rema had planned to rub down Snow and feed him a treat, but it would have to wait. She released Snow into the pasture, and followed her aunt around the barn and inside the house.

  They entered the sitting room, the fire already roaring in the hearth. Four pewter cups sat on the low table. Someone had been there.

  “Have a seat.” Aunt Maya pointed to a chair. Her hands rested on her hips, and she paced back and forth in front of the hearth.

  Rema knew this was serious, that she was in colossal trouble. There was nothing she could say or do to ease the situation. She’d just have to take her punishment.

  Uncle Kar entered the room, a warm smile on his face. He kissed Rema on her head, and then took a seat next to her. He seemed to be in a good mood. Better than usual. Maybe he wasn’t aware of her racing.

  Aunt Maya stood still, her eyes locked on Uncle Kar’s. “We need to talk to you, Rema.”

  “Yes,” Uncle Kar said. “We have good news.”

  Rema hadn’t expected the conversation to begin like this.

  “Bren’s parents paid us a visit,” Uncle Kar said.

  Bren never kept secrets from his parents. He must have told them about their races. “I can explain,” she began, ready to concede.

  “No need,” Uncle Kar continued. “You and Bren have been friends for a long time. It makes sense. And we approve.”

  Rema had no idea what he was talking about. “Excuse me?”

  Aunt Maya cleared her throat. “We didn’t sign the marriage contract yet. There’s still a few details to work out.”

  “But we expect to have everything in order in the next day or two,” Uncle Kar said.

  “What?” Rema shouted, jumping off the chair.

  “Didn’t Bren talk to you about this yet?” Aunt Maya asked, crossing her arms.

  “No! He never said anything to me.” This was almost worse than getting in trouble for racing. Bren, her best friend, wanted to marry her? “Do I have a say in this?” Rema asked.

  “What do you mean? You and Bren are friends. We thought you’d be happy,” Uncle Kar said, his brow creasing in confusion.

  “Happy? To marry a friend! I don’t want to. I won’t do it.” She had no intention of tying herself permanently to any man.

  “Rema,” Maya said, exasperated. “You are seventeen years old. Bren is eighteen. It’s time, and the match makes sense. We don’t really have any other options.”

  Rema wanted to scream. “So you won’t even consider my wishes regarding the matter?”

  “I’m sorry, dear. We thought you’d be pleased with the match.” Uncle Kar stood, reaching for her.

  Rema was most definitely not pleased. She was anything but pleased. Clutching her hands into fists, Rema forced back tears and moved away from her uncle. The walls felt like they were spinning, and it became difficult to breathe. Run. She needed to run.

  “After you’ve had some time to think about it, I’m sure you’ll see things clearly,” Aunt Maya said.

  “Yes, I understand,” Rema mumbled. She was going to have to marry Bren, regardless of what she wanted. “I’m going out for some fresh air.”

  Rema forced herself to walk calmly out the door, but as soon as her boots stepped onto the dirt, she took off, sprinting toward the forest.

  Darmik

  A heavy fog coated the land as Commander Darmik and his squad neared the governor of Jarko’s fortress. Their presence was noticed, and the front gate to
the castle opened as they arrived. Servants exited, preparing to greet their prince.

  Darmik scanned the surrounding land. Nothing looked amiss. Pulling his horse to a halt, he dismounted.

  Prince Lennek strolled out the front entrance. The governor, Lord Filmar, was nowhere in sight. “Darmik.” Lennek’s lips curled into a smile, but his eyes narrowed at the squad of twenty men. “What are you doing here?” He stretched his arms open and embraced his brother.

  “Good to see you, Lennek. It’s been a long time.”

  Lennek released him. “Checking up on me?” He chuckled.

  Darmik didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled off his riding gloves. His visit had one purpose—to discover what his brother was up to. Lennek didn’t leave their father’s castle often, let alone King’s City.

  Lennek’s personal steward, Arnek, stepped forward. “Your Highness, will you be joining us for dinner?”

  “Yes,” Darmik answered. Arnek’s nose twitched, then he bowed and dismissed the servants.

  Darmik went to his corporal and whispered instructions for the soldiers to setup camp just outside of the town, hidden in the forest. He’d find them when he was ready to leave.

  The brothers were finally alone.

  “Care to tell me what’s going on?” Darmik asked.

  “No,” Lennek whispered, leaning in close. “It’s none of your business, little brother.” Then he spun and entered the castle, without looking back to see if Darmik followed.

  The castle was similar to the other governors’ homes, yet it lacked some of the opulence. Of course, Jarko was the smallest region, the least important in the kingdom in terms of land and politics. For Lennek to come here, of all places, there had to be a good reason.