Ruby Morgan Box Set: Books 6-10

by LJ Rivers

  “Mostly inside the shadows, but I had to cross the Seohl Strait by boat.”

  “Makes sense,” I said. “It’s not like you can fly inside the shadows.”

  The old Sorcerer tilted his head. “Oh, I don’t know. There might be those who disagree with you on that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your Majesty, that is—"

  “Listen.” I threw my hands up, looking from Pullhelli to the others. “Can you all skip the whole majesty and highness thing, please?”

  Halwyn cleared his throat. “You are still my queen, are you not?”

  I nodded. “I guess I am. For the moment, however, please, call me Ruby.”

  “Sure thing, Red,” said Jen from the doorway. “Never got used to the whole queenie thing, anyway.” She smiled, but her eyes still showed how much Charlie’s revelation had hurt and scared her.

  Wadyan and Taryn also came inside, and in not long, the group of us had formed a semi-circle—some on chairs, some sitting on the floor or, in Taryn’s case, leaning against the wall—around the Sorcerer who only two months earlier had saved me from being sentenced to death by the former queen.

  And I had thought my life was strange back in old London.

  Yeah, right.

  Brendan put his hand on mine, and I laced my fingers with his. “Lord Pullhelli, how are things in Avalen?”

  “As expected, I would say. Auberon gave the primes an ultimatum: pledge loyalty to him or die.” He shook his head and let a small puff of air out through his nose. “Poor Lady Estrilda. She only got to serve as Prime Soleiny’s replacement for a few days before her head rolled on the marble floors of the throne room. You should have seen the fire in her eyes, Ruby. Not even when that young woman’s sword swung towards her neck did Estrilda show anything but loyalty to Morgana. And to you.”

  “Young woman?” Jen asked. “Was it that murdering weasel, Gemma?”

  “I believe Auberon said that name, yes. Commander Gemma, in fact. A Changeling, but not a weasel, as far as I could tell.”

  Could he tell? Back on Earth, I could see a glow on a Mag’s skin, but here in Gwyn Fanon, it was the other way around. I could only see the glow around humans. Jen had a weaker version of it around her, though, which I suspected was because she was half human and half Shifter. As far as I knew, the Mags in Gwyn Fanon couldn’t—

  “I have never heard of any Changelings of that kind.”

  “Ah, right. She’s a fox Changeling,” I offered. “And she killed my ma.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  Jen scoffed. “There’s a line of people wanting to get to that bitch, I can assure you.” She flinched a little, before a wry, crooked smile spread on her lips. “Nice. I like that I’m able to use that particular word to describe her, even though I suspect it means something different here.”

  I held my hand up to her. “I think we all get your point, Jen.” I turned back to Pullhelli. “So, you clearly didn’t lose your head, which I assume the other primes did. How did you escape?”

  “I wish I could tell you they were all loyal, my—sorry, Ruby—even if that would also mean they were all executed by the Changeling. Lord Sanctor and Lady Diwella both refused to—”

  “And Lady Evelyne?” Taryn asked in the same firm but anguished voice he had bid Morgana farewell with at her essencebearing.

  Oh, no!

  I had forgotten about him and Evelyne.

  Lord Pullhelli met the Crimson soldier’s eyes. “It breaks my heart, Commander, but she was as loyal as you would expect.”

  “Until her last gaze upon fair Avalon,” Taryn said under his breath. He breathed heavily, desperately fighting back tears. “She would never have wanted to see me again had she given in to the northern king.”

  “I believe that is accurate.”

  I swallowed a lump in my throat as the memory of Anwinar and Aranos came to me. Their loyalty had been as strong as any of the primes’. The two centaurs had sacrificed themselves to help me escape my father’s soldiers back in Tallaks’ bakery in Avalen. Anwinar, whom Queen Morgana had appointed to be my personal guard, had become like a close friend, and I would forever be in debt to him and Aranos for saving me.

  Something else dawned on me. “Auberon would never ask you for your loyalty.” I wiped my tears and leaned forward. “Because he knew he could never trust you even if you pledged to him.”

  “You speak the truth. After he had—” Pullhelli gazed at Taryn again. “—dealt with the other primes. I’m sorry to inform that includes accepting Lord Miranar’s pledge of allegiance.”

  “I knew it!” Taryn spat. “That coward turns his cloak with the ever-changing wind.”

  “You describe him well, Commander. He might be of use to Auberon, as he has a vast web of contacts within the nobles and reeves.”

  “By the Lady,” I exclaimed. “Auberon will send troops to all corners of Avalon and give the reeves the same ultimatum.”

  “That he will. I suspect most of them will lose their lives at that moment in time, but some will join Auberon. As you are very much aware, not all Avalonians approved of Morgana’s rule.”

  “You still have your head,” Taryn said. His tone was bitter, but I gathered it was more because he had learned about Evelyne’s fate than the fact that Pullhelli had survived.

  “I do. It brings a sour taste in my mouth. But I had to know if my queen was alive before I could surrender my life.”

  “Enough talk about you dying,” I said. “You escaped, and that by no means diminishes your loyalty to Morgana. Or me, for that matter.”

  “Ever since we were young, I was always able to move within the shadows faster than my nephew. That might not hold true any longer, given his centuries of experience in and out of the Realm of Shadows. Nevertheless, I was able to vanish before he could stop me. Luck, I guess. Or maybe he was too busy gloating over Miranar’s surrender. Whatever the reason, I managed to slip inside the darkness, and disappeared among the crowds when I got outside the castle walls.”

  “How did you know we were here?” I asked.

  “Tallaks of Pelles, the baker. You know him?”

  I dipped my chin.

  “He told me he saw you escape with two Goblins. I asked about their age, and when he said they could have been father and son, I figured it was a good chance you had come here. I had to risk it, even if it would cost me my last breath.” He patted my hand. “Which it nearly did. I’m not the same as I used to be, Ruby.”

  “I think you’re doing fine.”

  Taryn stepped forward. “If it pleases Your Majesty, I would like us to focus on the next steps.” His eyes were veiled with brimming tears, but the determination in them was hard to misinterpret. “Is it still your intention not to fight the usurper?”

  “I—I can’t see how, Taryn.”

  The eagle Shifter’s lips tightened like a drawstring. He clearly wanted to say something, but kept it to himself.

  The window blew open again, and heavy rain showered through the opening.

  Halwyn sprang to his feet. “Get a hammer and nails,” he barked at Wadyan, who quickly vanished behind the door to the storage hallway. Halwyn closed the window again and turned to me, his face already soaked by the rain now teeming outside. “No luck with the weather, Highness. It seems your grandfather will have to wait a while longer.”

  Chapter Five

  Brendan shivered beside me, and I wrapped my arms around him. “Are you cold?”

  He folded his hands on my hips and pulled me closer. “A little, but this helps.”

  “I think the fire is almost out.” I kissed him on the nose. His skin was cold against my lips, so I untangled myself from him and slipped out of the makeshift bed in the corner of one of Halwyn’s many rooms in his strange, magical cottage.

  “Come back soon,” Brendan mumbled as he pulled the covers more tightly around himself.

  “I will.” With light steps, I moved across the room and crouched in front of t
he hearth. I rolled up my sleeves and poked at the embers with my fingers. The fire had almost died, so I put another couple of logs in and produced a small flame to rekindle it. The flames flared and the heat of it embalmed my face. Fire and I had been close for a while now. There was a time when I had feared the flames, almost as much as I feared the shadows. Somewhere at the back of my mind, however, Pullhelli’s words were resonating. ‘Does a sword kill by its own will? Does the arrow turn in the air if it disagrees with the archer’s choice of target?’ He had told me that magic was a tool, and that I alone had the power to decide if it was a weapon or a blessing. Most days, it didn’t feel much like a blessing at all.

  I sighed and sat cross-legged, watching the rising flames. How many times had I used my magic as a weapon? Too many to count. And I would do it again. However, I could choose to see it as a gift, and I alone could decide how to wield it. Auberon had once told me something similar. Recalling my father’s voice was bittersweet, and in spite of everything, he had taught me some valuable lessons. ‘Anyone can tap into their magical reserves and harness their full potential’, he had said. That was back when I had known him as Gabriel Kaine, but the words were certainly my father’s.

  “How did it come to this?” I whispered.

  “Did you say something, babe?” Brendan mumbled.

  “No, nothing. I’ll be there soon.”

  “Mhm.”

  I listened to him turn over in the bed, my attention on the tendrils of light ahead. Oh, Mum, I could have really used your words of advice. I know I didn’t always listen before, but I would have now. What am I supposed to do? I shook my head and started to rise when my vision blurred. I stayed where I was as the sound of the crackling fire merged with my father’s voice. The images shifted, and I found myself in Morgana’s throne room.

  “Nothing?” Auberon’s voice echoed off the marble surfaces.

  Two lorekeepers and a couple of erudites stood around a table full of parchments and weird-looking objects.

  “Well.” Lorekeeper Virgil cringed. He looked, if possible, even older than I remembered. “As I understand it, when you—when the Sorcerers stole the light, they intended to contain it and return it to the sun after their … mission.”

  Auberon frowned. “You may speak freely, Lorekeeper.”

  Virgil raised an eyebrow, then cleared his throat. “From what we have been able to unearth, the Sorcerers tried to use a large source of Enchantium in the Mynydd mountains as the container for the light, but from what we have found, the Enchantium would not be able to hold it, as it needs a live vessel. Someone pure enough and strong enough to store the immense powers of the sun. We know that the Enchantium source the Sorcerers tried to use cracked as soon as the light entered the stone, which is why there are now veins and specks of Enchantium stretching through parts of the Mynydd mountain range, such as in the Dewmas mines.”

  “And? This is hardly news, Lorekeeper.” Auberon’s voice was soft and smooth, like that of a lion advancing on his prey. “Where did the light go?”

  “We—”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, we do not know, Your Grace.”

  Auberon roared. He grabbed the edges of the table and flipped it on its head. Scrolls and parchments flew through the air as various instruments crashed to the floor. “Useless! You are all useless!” A spear of flame shot out from his cane, lancing through the lorekeeper’s chest. The two erudites and the remaining lorekeeper looked at their dead colleague, jaws hanging open, though none said a word. “Can anyone tell me where the light went?”

  Slowly, the image faded, only to be replaced by another. A waterfall splashed into a lake behind Auberon. A group of people had gathered around him, and one man stood hunched in the centre. A Fae. His wings were shredded and his face bruised, yet he held his chin high.

  “Last chance,” Auberon snarled.

  “I will not bend the knee to you.” The Fae punched his fist in the air. “For My Queen. For Ruby!”

  Auberon waved his hand, and Gemma stepped forward. Dressed entirely in black, she wore a sly smile on her lips. “Yes, My King.” She unsheathed her sword and swung it at the Fae’s neck. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even close my eyes.

  As her sword swung true, I was catapulted into the streets of Avalen. Auberon’s soldiers marched through them, and people shied away whenever they came too close.

  Someone cried out. “No, please, leave her be. She is only a child.”

  A menacing creature was hauling a young girl out of a house. A Goblin woman followed, begging on her knees for the creature to let go.

  “She stole.” The creature’s voice was grating and wrong somehow, as if he didn’t really speak Avalonian. He sounded more like a beast than a man. His body was riddled with muddy-green scales, and his face looked like a weird mesh between a man and a crocodile. He hurled the girl into the street and swung his thick tail around. It was spiked with a scorpion-like sting on the end. I shuddered as I realised what this creature was. A Nadredd. He slammed his tail into the girl. Her body convulsed, ripples of blue sparks encasing her. The Goblin woman hugged herself, tears streaming down her face. I wanted to help them.

  Without warning, I was transported into a veil of shadows. The darkness enveloped me, and in the centre of it was my father. Tendrils of smoke and inky shades swirled around him, merging with his body. “I have doomed them all!” he shouted, sending icy shivers down my spine.

  His ominous voice followed me as the images kept shifting at an alarming speed, as if recounting months or even years of his reign. In every image, his hair was longer and his beard had grown, and in every frame it was as if he had aged just a little bit more while the darkness kept clinging to him. Not just inside the shadows, but everywhere he went a dark cloud surrounded him.

  “The light!” Auberon’s voice echoed in my mind. “Where did it go?”

  “The people are starving,” someone said.

  “We have to find the light,” Auberon repeated.

  “They are dying,” another voice resounded in my head. “They are all dying.”

  Pained voices cried out, sobs and screams ringing in my ears.

  Then an eerie silence clamped around me. I watched my father riding a unicorn towards a familiar farm. The fields of maize were blackened, and nothing appeared to grow there anymore. Auberon came to a halt outside the main farmhouse. He unmounted the unicorn and went inside. Shielding his mouth and nose, he went into the quiet house. It was almost as if I could smell the decay myself. In a corner, arms slung around one another, sat a father and his son. Dead and cold. They were both older than I remembered, and still, I recognised their faces. I wanted to cry, but I was only a spectator in this nightmare. Kay, the kind farmer who had once given me shelter and aid, had protected his son Lance until the very end.

  Auberon shook his head, a tear escaping the brim of his eye, before he went back outside. As the door slammed shut, the wind whipped up, whisking us away to the mountaintop over Nimue’s Grove. We stared into the darkness, looking at the tenebrous silhouettes of the castle and the city beyond.

  Look at what you’ve done, Father!

  “I have failed.” My father’s voice drifted towards me. He sounded so small, so heartbroken that I had the sudden urge to reach out for him. “They are all dying. Oh, Ruby, what have I done?”

  Behind him, a fox was slinking around piles of stone.

  Behind you! I tried to call out, but I wasn’t a part of this story. I had gone home, back to Earth, and this was the result of my father’s years on the throne—on my throne.

  The fox came to stand behind Auberon. In a fluent motion, it shifted into the last person I wanted to see.

  Gemma reached out, embracing him. “There are too many of them,” she said. “If there were less, say, Fae around, we could feed more of your people.” She stroked a lock of hair away from his face.

  “The Fae are my people,” he mumbled.

  “They are to
o many,” she pressed.

  He averted his gaze back to the horizon. “If only Ruby was here.”

  My heart clenched at his words. You feel remorse, Father?

  “Ruby?” Gemma snapped. “If she had not corrupted your mind, perhaps you would remember that sacrifices sometimes must be made. Besides, she left you, remember?”

  He didn’t reply, just kept staring wistfully into the night.

  Gemma sneered, reaching for Excalibur.

  Wait! Stop! Father, stop her!

  But he didn’t listen. As Gemma drew the sword from its sheath, all he did was stand there.

  “It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” Gemma hissed, “but you have grown weak.”

  He turned to her then, tears spilling from his eyes. Those deep, silvery-blue eyes, full of shadows and regret. He gasped as the sword slid into his abdomen until it protruded from his back. She twisted it once, and Auberon fell to his knees, grabbing for air.

  The blackness around him stirred, blanketing the mountaintop, leaving it entirely submerged in a dark sea of shadows. It spun around Gemma, then expanded down the mountainside, folding over the waterfall before continuing its march across the castle and into the city. It extinguished every lantern and torch in its wake until there was nothing left to see but complete and utter darkness.

  The absence of light.

  I wrenched myself free from the vision and wiped the sweat from my brow. I was drenched in it, and my heart slammed hard in my chest, like a raging bull trying to escape its cage. This couldn’t be Avalon’s future. It just couldn’t. And it couldn’t be his. I would not have another parent die at Gemma’s hands. For all his faults, he did not want this future any more than I did.

  I grabbed the edges of the hearth. The fire was fizzling now, and the embers glowed with fierce determination. What else did you say to me once, Father? His words came to me, clear as if he were standing right there. ‘It all comes down to self-control. It’s in you, Ruby. All you need to do is take it.’

  All right, Father, I’ll take it. I will take your advice and harness my powers. I am in charge now. I’ll be in control, so that one day soon, I’ll bring you down and reclaim my throne. For my people’s sake, and for yours.