Shards (Dragon Reign Book 2)

by Kit Bladegrave

  So why come out of hiding for a festival and risk himself if someone hadn’t first sworn to him he’d be safe?

  “I fear I may not be as in the know with my father’s doings as I thought,” I admitted quietly to Craig. “If the plague is here, though, I have to tell him. He needs to know so he can prepare to protect our people.”

  “You’re not going to run off to tell him, you can’t.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to,” I pointed out, but how else was he going to know? “I can’t exactly call him, though can I?”

  “When we’ve gotten all we need from here, you can find a way to leave a message for him. Until then, we can’t risk any of your men finding us here.” He shifted his shoulders against the knapsack he used for a pillow as he laid down, clasping his hands under his head and shutting his eyes. “No matter what you might say, she is a Darrah, and until we know the truth about what happened to her parents, she cannot go anywhere near your father. He can’t know she even exists.”

  He said nothing else and his breathing evened a few moments later.

  I was just as exhausted, but couldn’t seem to make my eyes close.

  Kate studied the tapestry, but part of me doubted she was truly looking for answers. She was angry with both of us and probably with her destiny as well.

  No one starts out on an adventure expecting to be hurt or killed, but having knowledge that she may have to sacrifice herself, in the end, to save the world was a tough one to swallow down.

  I wanted to go to her, comfort her somehow, but there was nothing I could say.

  Unless we found more answers to this riddle, Kate’s fate could be exactly the same as the one on the wall.

  Death comes for us all, but sometimes, the hero must go searching for it and understand there’s no fighting back.

  12

  Kate

  I waited until Craig and Forest appeared to be asleep before I found a stone and rested my back against it, and tried to get some sleep. I closed my eyes, but every little whistle of wind, or the call of a bird overhead made me jerk back awake, and soon I was staring wide-eyed at the burning torches surrounding the room.

  The war room. The room I knew from the voices telling me inside my head. The same voices that helped me create the shield that saved us from the plagued undead.

  Voices of my ancestors.

  I wanted to believe they were guiding me, and not trying to find a way to get me killed, but after what Craig and Forest said, and seeing that mural on the wall, I wasn’t so sure any more about my so-called destiny.

  I was almost eighteen, ready to start my life, and I just learned I was supposed to save the world now. Save it and get myself killed in the process. I scrunched my eyes shut again, but all I saw was that final image of the warrior dying as she fought to seal the plague away forever.

  No, not forever because someone betrayed my family. Someone destroyed the shield and let the plague back out.

  Restless, I climbed silently to my feet, and grabbing a torch from a nearby bracket, moved to the double doors at the far end of the room.

  I lied earlier when Craig asked me what was behind them. The voices whispered to me that I needed to go in there. The room through those doors was much more important than this room, and I was not going to wait for them to wake up to go see it.

  I felt I needed to see it alone first, but I doubted it would help me any with my quickly darkening future.

  I rested my hand on the door, and it gave easily, sliding open on hinges that I expected to creak and groan, but it was as if someone had been down here keeping them well-oiled in anticipation of my return.

  Torch in hand, I stepped through the door and walked down the short corridor, lighting more torches resting on the walls as I went.

  Another set of double doors stood at the end of the corridor. and these opened as easily as the first.

  It was through these doors, that I found myself staring at an immaculate room lined with old stone hearths that once held roaring fires. Two long tables stretching the length of the room ran along the left and right of me, with benches and random chairs broken or fallen over, covered in layers of dirt and dust. At the very far end, set up on a short platform was another table, long, with seven chairs seated behind it, the two in the middle taller and carved more intricately than the rest.

  A long time ago, my ancestors had sat right here in this hall, sat and ate with their friends and allies, their families, never dreaming how the Darrah line would come to ruin. They’d laughed here as they feasted.

  I ran my hand along one of the tables as I strolled slowly forward.

  The voices whispered against my ears, happy voices, ones lost in time and memories. They told me nothing, but I suddenly felt more hopeful than I had a few minutes ago.

  If I closed my eyes tight enough, I could almost see this room filled again, and lit up by the fires in those stone fireplaces as food was brought out, one course after another.

  I sniffed, and the strong scent of roasted meat confused me.

  I opened my eyes and stared in shock.

  The torch was still in my hand, but the room was no longer dark and dank. It was filled with people, bustling around, boisterous laughter and voices bounced off the stone walls and ceiling. Drinks were being poured, and several men were drunkenly singing at the end of the right table.

  I wasn’t sure what was happening, or if this was real. Hell, I could be dreaming back in the war room, but then someone banged something heavy down on a wooden surface three times, and a hush fell over the room.

  “Silence, my friends, my family,” a deep male voice proclaimed, and I glanced up to see the man seated in the largest chair at the head table, staring right at me.

  I blinked a few times, whipping around, sure he stared at someone behind me, but there was no one there. Just me.

  I turned back, and he bowed his head slightly and smiling warmly beckoned me forward.

  “We have a guest in our midst this night! Let us make her welcome!”

  I paused when everyone erupted in applause and roars of excitement to see me.

  I’d never met these people in my life. All of this had to be a dream, but I continued forward, frowning when I realized something was swishing around my ankles.

  A luxurious green satin gown covered me, trailing behind me along the floor. There was beading around the waist and all down the skirt, made to look like green flames. The upper part of the gown was a corset, but was extremely comfortable and had capped sleeves at my shoulders. My hair was done up as well, piled atop my head.

  The torch disappeared from my hand, and I held out the skirt of my gown, in awe. Whatever this was, dream or not, this was the fanciest dress I’d ever seen in my life, and I loved it.

  Throwing my shoulders back as a sense of pride filled me, I smiled graciously at those around me, and listened as the heeled boots I wore beneath the dress clicked against the stones while I reached the head table.

  Unsure of what to do, I started to courtesy, clumsily, but the man held up his hand to stop me.

  “There is no need for that. It is I who should be bowing to you,” he stated.

  I wasn’t sure what to say, but the words somehow managed to come out of my mouth anyway. “You are too kind, Malcolm Darrah, as always. I have done nothing to warrant such respect.”

  “That is a lie, and we both know it,” he teased softly, and walked out from around the table.

  A woman was seated beside him, beautiful with black hair and soft green eyes. She beamed at me, as did the others beside her.

  He continued, “It is not often the Vindicar graces us with her presence. You are after all, so busy of late.”

  “The shadow never sleeps, at least not yet,” I replied easily, even though my mind raced.

  Malcolm Darrah reached me and held out his arm. “Shall we walk? I feel if you are here, it is not for the food or drink.”

  “Sadly, no. Though one day I hope it will be.” I slipped my ha
nd into the crook of his elbow, and we left the happy atmosphere behind as we returned through the doors I entered from.

  We did not enter the war room, but remained in the corridor.

  Two dragons stood sentry, but with a wave of his hand, Malcolm sent them back inside, closing the doors behind to give us privacy. The smile that had graced this handsome man’s face before, now fell away.

  He raised a brow. “The truth now, Celandine, why have you come?”

  Celandine. That’s who this was… or I was?

  I needed time to process what was happening, but my lips were moving again, and I only heard my voice. “We have been deceived,” I whispered harshly. “I cannot tarry for long, cannot be away.”

  “What betrayal do you speak of?”

  “One from within these very walls. I do not know who, but… but Malcolm, the shield, it has been stolen, and the plague threatens to flood out of the breach. The power I have placed to temporarily hold it back will not last long.”

  “What?” he gasped horrified. “How is that possible? The shield is the lock. No one can take it unless it is you.”

  “I know. When we fought the shadow years ago, I fear part of it remained in another, and waited until it was strong enough to come forth again.” I shook my head, pacing back and forth through the corridor. “Without the shield, my power is limited. He will come for me first, Malcolm, and if I die… the fate of the worlds is sealed.”

  “It will not come to that,” he tried to argue, but I was shaking my head and reached out for his hands. There was much more than friendliness in that touch, and I felt a sudden strong love for this dragon standing before me.

  “My death is expected in the end, Malcolm, you know this. It is the burden of being a Vindicar, as it was for those who came before me.”

  Malcolm growled in anger, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “This traitor, we must find him and stop him before the end of the world is upon us. I will not lose you, Celandine.” He glanced at the doors. “Where is Broden?”

  “Searching for answers. He will not speak it, but he senses my end is close.”

  Malcolm’s hands tightened on mine, and I was caught up in a swirl of emotions so intense it made me gasp inside this woman’s head.

  Whoever this Broden was, she loved him as much as she loved Malcolm.

  “If the darkness comes, we will fight it,” Malcolm insisted.

  “And how many will die? The shield is the only thing that will seal it away, the shield and the full power of a Vindicar. You know this was always my fate. Broden and you simply refuse to accept it.”

  He huffed. “Hard to accept that one you love is going to willingly sacrifice her life.”

  “I may survive, it has happened before.”

  “Yes, but your chances are slim.” He turned away, resting one hand on his hip as the other scratched his chin. “There must be another way.”

  “It matters not if we cannot find the shield.” I stepped closer, licking my lips nervously.

  A sudden flood of knowledge flowed through my mind. I remembered the shield placed as a lock on the breach that led to the cage, holding the plague. I tried to pry deeper into this woman’s mind, but all I saw were images of fighting darkness, and this ‘he’ she mentioned. Was he the one driving the plague?

  I frowned and continued, “I know you do not wish me to speak it, but your son, Allis, when has he last visited the outlying lands? Or been seen in the presence of Tryst?”

  “Recently,” Malcolm replied as his eyes narrowed. “No, you cannot think he has anything to do with this. Or the demons, they are our kin! Tryst and Allis would do nothing to harm our families.”

  I wanted to throw up my hands at those words, and ask the questions suddenly racing through my mind, but my mouth was moving again of its own accord, and all I could do was groan inwardly and try to tuck everything I heard away, until I could get some answers.

  “Yes, but even family can be swayed away from family,” I whispered. “Allis has been seen near the breach, Malcolm, consorting with a shadowy figure my men could not discern. When they went to investigate, it vanished into nothing, and your son ran off. And not long after, the shield went missing, and the darkness started to creep out once more from its cage.”

  Malcolm’s eyes darkened, but refused to accept the truth of this woman’s words. “No, no they saw another.”

  “It was Allis. I am sorry, my friend, I wish it were not so.”

  His steps shuffled as he paced the length of the corridor, back and forth before he came to a stop before me again, head hanging. “If we had stayed together, if he had been our son, this would not have happened,” he said dismayed.

  Celandine’s heart, and mine, lurched at his words and I felt immense pain rise up, but I had to squash it down. Now was a time to be strong. “We could never be together, you know this. The Vindicar must walk this path alone. It is safer in the end.” My hand raised and held his cheek warmly. “I would not have risked you for anything, my love.”

  His hand covered mine, and he sighed. “I know, but that does not change the regret I have over what we could not have together.”

  Sadness I had only ever felt twice before in my life, when I lost my parents, hit me hard in the gut like a sucker punch. I wanted to curl up in a ball somewhere and cry, but Celandine did not do that. She took a deep breath and gently pulled her hand free.

  “We must remove your son quietly from the hall. I have several questions I must ask him. I pray I am wrong, Malcolm, but if not, if he’s working with the shadow… you know what must be done.”

  “I do, Celandine, I do.”

  Then something else happened I did not expect to see.

  Malcolm’s face subtly shifted as sadness and anger warred on his face.

  Shifted the same way Craig’s had earlier when he was angry.

  He faced the doors to the hall again, and I stepped up behind him. Before he even opened the doors, screams erupted inside the hall, followed by the roars of furious dragons.

  Glass shattered, and there was no more time to waste trying to do this carefully.

  I lifted my right hand and whispering a few words, the Executioner blade materialized in my hand. I sensed a longing to call for the shield as well, but nothing appeared in my left hand. I would have to fight with only the sword forged to kill the plague.

  I felt a rush of power flow through my body and down that blade as it glowed blue before settling back to darkened steel.

  Malcolm threw the doors open, and charged in with a roar.

  I followed, and though Celandine might not have been terrified at the chaos of the battle in the room, I was petrified and wondered for a horrible moment if I was going to be trapped here forever.

  If I was going to be killed, stuck in this body.

  13

  Craig

  I shot upright, shaking my head to clear away the sleep and the nightmare that threatened to consume me.

  Raghnall had been there, leering down at me as he held the Executioner blade, but it hadn’t been aimed at me.

  Kate.

  He’d been about to kill Kate, and I was powerless to stop him.

  Deciding I’d slept enough, I stood and stretched.

  Forrest gave a quiet growl in his sleep, but remained out. Since there were no skeletal beings in here trying to kill us, I felt it safe to assume the shield held.

  Grumbling, I strode around the room looking for Kate. I wanted to talk to her more. Not to apologize. She was being reckless for no reason, and it had to stop, but realizing that she might wind up dead at the end of this adventure would shake up anyone.

  I scoured the room, and my heart thudded faster, as my palms tingled, realizing Kate wasn’t in the room.

  I didn’t think she’d be dumb enough to go back outside by herself, but I was hurrying towards the rope when I noticed the double doors were open.

  “Damn it, Kate,” I whispered and grabbing a torch, walked for the doors.

 
; I knew she lied when I asked if she knew what was behind the doors. Why she felt the need to wander off alone only made me decide not to give her a pep talk, but tell her she wasn’t allowed out of my or Forrest’s sight, not after seeing what was on that wall. Or the tapestry.

  Touching anything in this place could set her off and if she was alone when it happened…

  I froze in the short corridor when I heard her voice, but it didn’t exactly sound like Kate. It sounded off, deeper, more guttural as it had when she was whispering at the tapestry.

  I started walking again, slower this time, but the intensity of her words increased, and soon I found myself running through the corridor and bursting through another set of double doors.

  The room was massive, and Kate stood in the center of it, torch in a death grip in her right hand, staring straight ahead of her.

  “Kate?” I said as I approached. “Kate, can you hear me?”

  I reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder to pull her around, and her fist connected with my nose.

  I cursed, dropping the torch as she came at me again.

  Her torch hit the ground, and I caught another punch to the jaw before I snagged her wrists, spun her around, and wrapped my arms securely around her.

  “Kate! Snap out of it!”

  She snarled, snapping her jaws as she tried to bite me.

  “Kate! It’s Craig! Just stop!” I didn’t want to have to knock her out as I did before, but if she didn’t stop trying to kill me again, I’d have no choice. “Kate, come back to me. Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real.”

  Finally, she stilled and her body sagged in my arms. She shook her head, nearly clocking me in the face again. “Craig?”

  “Yeah, love, it’s me.” Slowly, I released her hands, and she stepped out of my arms.

  I wanted her to stay, but now was not the time.

  When she turned to face me, her eyes were narrowed in confusion, and she was pale.