by John Lenahan
We were still made to wait a short time outside the throne room but were then escorted on a long wa between two rows of hastily dressed Brownie honour guard. They did not look kindly on me or my bear. I am sure they had all heard by now that he was one of the dragons that incinerated many of their comrades. I felt like an away-team supporter in a crowd of home-team football fans. King Bwika sat on a dais in his Alder Throne. I approached and bowed my low bow.
Before I could start my practised royal protocol speech, the King said, ‘You have a cheek coming here.’
‘This visit is neither diplomatic nor is it some sort of victory lap; I come on a sorry task.’ I threw back the blanket that covered Tuan’s burden and then carefully took the shrouded body into my own arms. ‘I have come to return to you the body of your son.’ I stepped up on the dais and laid Frank at his father’s feet.
Bwika was speechless as I backed away down the steps.
‘Did you kill him, Faerie?’ came an angry voice from behind the throne that made me and the King jump. I hadn’t recognised the voice but when he stepped into the light I of course knew the face.
‘No, Jesse,’ I replied.
‘My name is Codna.’
‘Of course, Prince Codna,’ I said, bowing. ‘I did not kill him. If I had arrived earlier and had recognised your brother I would have done all that I could to prevent it. But I was too late.’
‘Who did kill him?’ the King asked.
‘If it is vengeance you seek, Your Highness, then you should know that the one that killed your son was also killed by him.’
‘Who?’
‘Spideog, Your Highness.’
‘My son killed Spideog – the warrior archer?’
‘He did.’
King Bwika sat higher in his seat. ‘Then he did indeed die a noble death.’
‘He certainly was brave,’ I said, ‘but I don’t think I can call anything about this war noble. I knew your son, Your Highness, and even though we had our differences, I liked him. I am very sorry for your loss and I am here to try to make sure that no other fathers lose their sons. What can I do to persuade you to stop this aggression against Cull and Duir?’
The Brownie King sat back in his chair and said, ‘Give us what is our due. Give us Castle Duir and the mines beneath.’
‘You know I can’t do that.’
‘Your audience is ended, Son of Duir. Returning my son to me has saved your life today but in the future you will no longer be welcome in the Alderlands.’
I had also rehearsed a royal-style exit speech but since he was no longer being nice I just said, ‘I want my horses.’
‘What?’
‘I left my horses at Fearn Point. I assume that you now have them.’
The King came as close to standing as his hulking frame would allow. ‘Are you accusing …’
‘The horses are in our corral,’ Jesse said, ‘I will take you to them.’
The King turned to his son. ‘You most certainly will not.’
‘Prince Conor has been good to me in the past, Father. He brought Demne back to us and now I am going to give him his horses.’
I don’t think I ever really knew the definition of flabbergasted until I saw the look on King Bwika’s face. Jesse turned and walked out between the honour guard gauntlet and we followed. I’m sure that all three of us expected a crossbow bolt in our backs at any time. I know I did.
Jesse didn’t say anything until we reached the gates of the corral. When he turned, his face and collar were drenched with silent tears. As soon as we looked at each other he flew in to my arms and buried his face into my chest.
‘I’m so sorry, Codna,’ I said while stroking his hair. I know it was silly and he was probably older than me but he felt like the little brother I never had.
His crying jag didn’t last long and when he finally straightened up and wiped his eyes he said, ‘You can still call me Jesse if you want.’
I smiled at him and he tried hard to return it. ‘I wish things were different,’ he said.
‘Yeah, Jesse, me too.’
Cloud, Acorn and Araf and Turlow’s horses had, by this time, made it over to where we were standing. Jesse ordered the stable boy to fetch two saddles but Tuan said, ‘Just one,’ and then changed himself into a horse.
‘You keep The Turlow’s mount,’ I said to Jesse. ‘His name is Fluffy. He’s a good horse and he deserves a better master than his last one.’
‘Will I ever see you again, Conor?’
‘I hope so,’ I said.
‘And if I do, will we still be friends?’
‘Ah, Jesse, wouldn’t this place be so much better if it was run by smart people like us?’ I said, flashing a Fergal-esque smile. ‘Others can make us enemies, Jesse, but no one can unmake us friends.’ I patted him on the shoulder. ‘Be safe, my Brownie friend.’
As I rode away I felt worse with every step. Poor Jesse, stuck alone in that castle without his brother and with a stupid misguided father. I toyed with the idea of turning around and taking him with me but I was certain that that would only end in more tears.
Chapter Forty-Three
Get a Room
‘Why don’t you two get a room?’
‘We have a room,’ Dad said while coming up for air after kissing Mom‘As a matter of fact, we have a whole castle.’
‘Well, why didn’t you do all of this in your room?’ I asked.
‘We did,’ Mom replied with a smile I wasn’t all that comfortable with. ‘Sorry if we embarrass you, I’m sure your father will calm down in a couple of years.’
I looked over to Brendan for support, but he and Nieve were lip-locked as well.
‘Oh for crying out loud,’ I protested.
‘Conor,’ my aunt said, ‘I do not know when I will see Brendan again.’
‘You’ve decided to stay in the Real World?’ I asked.
Brendan shook his head. ‘I still don’t know, Conor.’
‘So what, you’re going to go back to being a cop?’
‘I was a good cop.’
‘Oh yeah?’ I sneered. ‘The last bit of detective-ing you did was to accuse me of killing him,’ I said, pointing to Dad.
‘Well, I knew there was something squirrely about your family and I was right about that.’
Dad untangled himself from Mom and walked over to Brendan. ‘You are forever welcome in Duir. The job of armoury master is vacant at the moment.’
‘Brendan, Master-at-Arms of Duir,’ Nieve said, ‘I like the sound of that.’
‘I do too,’ Brendan replied, looking at his feet, ‘but my first responsibility is to my daughter. Until I see her, I have no idea what to do.’
We all turned when we heard horse’s hooves coming from the corridor. Essa and Fand appeared at the archway followed by Tuan leading Essa’s horse.
‘I thought you were going to be my horse on this expedition,’ I said to Tuan.
‘Your mother did not think that was a good idea,’ the Pooka said.
‘Well then come as a dragon – we can be on television and freak the whole world out.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Tuan said but he smiled and his ears fuzzed up for a moment as if he liked the idea. ‘Be careful in the Real World, my friend.’
Fand walked up to Brendan and said, ‘I am very pleased to have met you, pool-eece-man. It does my heart good to see that at least one of the exiled ones is so well. May the blessings of the Fili live with you – Druid.’ Brendan bowed and Fand placed her hands on his head. ‘And give my regards to your tree-hugging mother.’
Brendan smiled. ‘I will, Your Highness. I can’t wait to tell her that I know the Queen of the Druids.’
‘Are you sure you are up to this?’ my mother asked Essa.
Essa nodded. She had volunteered to act as our sorceress for this journey to return Brendan to the Real World. I was going too.
‘So how old are you anyway?’ I a‘Just in case you fall off your horse, will you dust-it?’
&
nbsp; ‘It will not kill me, is all you need to know and Tuan has volunteered some dragon blood in case I do.’
‘Thanks, Tuan. I really don’t want to date a wrinkly old grey one.’ Essa actually laughed at that – I was loosening that girl up.
There was one last round of smooching. Essa mounted up and asked if everyone was ready to go, but before we could reply I heard someone in the corridor screeching my name. We all looked as Graysea came bounding around the corner. She spotted me, shrieked and ran directly into my arms.
‘Oh Conor, I have missed you so!’
I tried to say something but couldn’t as she planted her lips onto mine. When I finally was able to remove myself from that kiss of life she said, ‘Did you miss me?’
I didn’t answer; I didn’t get the chance. The last thing I saw was Essa’s banta stick heading towards my right temple – after that everything went black.
Acknowledgements
It’s hard writing a novel but these people made it a lot easier.
Yvonne Light, the uber-hyphenator.
Evo, Chris & Tee at the fabulous Podiobooks.com.
Scott and all at The Friday Project.
The amusing and inspiring commenters on the Hazel & Oak bulletin board at podiobooks (especially those that spotted my mistakes).
And everyone that emailed me at [email protected] – thank you so much. The kind words I have received about Shadowmagic make it a lot easier to sit down and put my fingers on the keyboard every day.
By the same author
Shadowmagic
Copyright
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This edition published by The Friday Project 2011
SHADOWMAGIC: PRINCE OF HAZEL AND OAK. Copyright © John Lenahan 2011. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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ISBN: 978-0-00-742559-4
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
EPub Edition © MARCH 2011 ISBN: 978-0-00-742560-0
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