“Your Majesty,” Pala panted. “We were ambushed. Prince Devaran is gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean by gone?” Jess demanded. Her voice had automatically taken on the authoritarian tone she used with her troops, but it held an edge of panic.
Pala looked at her with pleading eyes. “He has been taken.”
A strange whooshing sound filled Jess’s ears, and the solid stone around her, the crowd in their colorful attire, the rising voices, all took on an appearance of unreality. Time seemed to have slowed, and Jess turned her head for what felt like hours before she found Tanvir. The shock on his face was plain and, as his eyes met Jess’s, she saw the same pain that pierced her own heart.
Chapter 3
Everything was stark color, discomfort, jumbled thought. The moment Dev woke, he found himself falling back into unconsciousness. He heard snatches of conversation, but he couldn’t determine if they were actual words exchanged by his captors or if they were fragments of his dreams. His mind felt detached from his body and, no matter how hard he tried, he could not make it obey his commands.
What have they done to me?
He knew they were traveling, as it was the jostling of a rough wooden cart that woke him from his stupor. Every last rut in the road was painfully obvious, which told Dev the cart was likely that of a common laborer or farmer, chosen specifically to attract as little notice as possible. With a heroic effort, he attempted to turn his head so that he could see his surroundings but his efforts were fruitless. The mere act of opening his eyelids was a feat, and all he could deduce was that he was lying under a covering of some sort. He could just make out thin pinpricks of light penetrating the rough weave of its surface.
Though his mind worked better than his body, it too was sometimes beyond his control. When he woke, he felt groggy, his mind unfocused. It was a challenge to force his brain to function as it should, and every time he was successful the effort would cause him such fatigue that he soon succumbed to oblivion once again.
“Is he comin’ ‘round?” a harsh male voice asked.
“Lemme check,” a feminine voice said in reply. Neither of them belonged to the two he’d heard speaking in the castle.
His sluggish brain worked well enough to remind him not to show any signs of consciousness, lest his abductors decide to sedate him. Instead, he concentrated on keeping his breathing even, his eyes still behind his lids. A reddish glow played across his eyelids, and he knew they had lifted whatever was covering him. It was hard not to react to the increase in light but he forced himself to remain still. Someone bent over him, their sour breath fanning over his face. Had he been able to operate his limbs, it would have been impossible to resist the urge to choke the life out of his abductor. Forcing himself to bite back the smart remark he wanted to make regarding his captor’s breath, he fought to refrain from grimacing. A moment later his abductor withdrew, and the light went dim again.
“Nah. He should be out for another hour or two.”
“We’ll dose him in an hour. You heard what Her Greatness said: no more than three hours between doses.”
So they drugged him every three hours. Without a timepiece to help him gauge when this might be, the information seemed useless. Frustration welled within him and it was difficult to breathe for a moment. He was a prisoner within his own body, helpless to defend himself or to try to stop whatever it was his abductors intended to do. Had they drugged him to keep him from moving, so that he would not give them away, or were they afraid he might attempt something desperate, like flinging himself beneath the wheels of the cart?
He wished he could. While he was in no hurry to see the afterlife, there was nothing he wouldn’t give to keep Jess safe. As long as he was alive, her life was at risk.
But would it be any less at risk if I were dead?
The thought was unsettling but he couldn’t deny the truth of it. And would it really be any different for him? Would he not lust for revenge just as vehemently, were something to happen to Jess?
Staying conscious was exhausting, and his mind began to drift. A memory surfaced and he fell into it, finding himself once more an eight-year-old boy filled with a sense of self-importance. He and his father rode through the castle gates with their retinue, Dev waving goodbye to his teary-eyed mother and his four-year-old brother, who wailed at the injustice of being left behind. Dev’s chest swelled with a combination of pride and smug satisfaction. Though he had just learned to read, Tanvir had already developed a fascination with tales of the Five Realms and its heroes, and Dev had no doubt his brother would have jumped at the chance to go on a journey like this, but Tanvir was only a little baby and Dev was almost a man. Certain his father and mother wouldn’t see, Dev stuck his tongue out at Tanvir, who screwed his face up and wailed even more loudly.
Straightening his back in an attempt to duplicate his father’s ramrod posture, Dev beamed, thinking of the day Adar had announced their journey.
“Soon, you will be a man and a king. You will accompany me to Lyrane, where I will teach you statecraft,” his father had announced.
Dev was fascinated by the idea of one day being king, of having the power to order others about, just as his father did. It seemed like such a lark. Would people listen to him as they did his father, carrying out whatever orders he handed down, no matter how outrageous or onerous? Dev wondered why they did not simply refuse—he would have.
Perplexed, he’d asked his father, and a severe look had come over Adar’s face as he responded, “Because I am king,” as if that should have clarified things for Dev. His patient tutors had tried time and again to explain the concept of monarchy and royal succession but Dev could never make sense of it, no matter how many ways they found to explain it to him. It made no sense to him why anyone would do something they didn’t wish to do, just because some stuffy old king told them they had to do it.
Curiosity lit a fire in Dev’s brain, and he wondered if he would see something in Lyrane that would explain why his father got to make the rules. He knew Lyrane had its own king—his father had told him as much—and he was eager to see what would happen when two kings got together. Would everyone be confused as to whom they were supposed to obey?
The charm of the adventure wore off during the second day of their journey. Dev became saddle sore but refused to tell anyone, lest he be forced to suffer the indignity of traveling the rest of the way on a cart. He was heir to the throne, and he would travel in a manner befitting a future king.
As the spires of the great city of Shala finally came into view, Dev felt his spirits returning. He had heard members of the court chattering about Lyrane, and his mother had told him some stories, but he had been certain they were exaggerating. It was quite awe-inspiring to find that they hadn’t been.
Song filled the air, a multitude of voices rising and falling with countless melodies. It should have sounded discordant but, somehow, it didn’t. It was like a grand orchestra being played on an unimaginable scale. Even the peasants sang as they went about their business, their voices rising in joy and triumph or fading into sorrowful whispers. Dev’s mouth hung open but he didn’t bother trying to close it.
The castle itself was fashioned from pale, bluish stone with lavender veins running through it. Omar had given his father the gift of a small carving made of the same stone, and Dev had always loved to look at it and test its smooth surface with his admiring fingertips. The sheer size of the castle, the sight of so much beautiful stone, was overwhelming in and of itself, but the exquisite carvings around every window, every doorway, every arrow slit, made the castle an extraordinary sight. Its towers rose several stories above the surrounding city, lavender and blue banners flapping in the light breeze.
As they rode through the city gates, Dev saw that the buildings were a mixture of stone and wood in a variety of hues that dazzled the eye. The stone estates obviously belonged to nobility and the most prosperous merchants. Arranged around a spacious square, they sat on large parcel
s of land surrounded by small but carefully tended knot gardens. Their stone facades were carved as well, though not as elaborately as the castle’s. The designs seemed to reflect the individual tastes of the owners, and Dev saw everything from animals to stylized lines of poetry.
Contrasted against the magnificent stone, the wooden buildings might have looked shabby but were lovely in their own way. No matter how small, they had been varnished and polished to a high shine, and their facades also bore carvings. Mixed with the wooden houses were various inns and shops. Motifs of commerce decorated their façades, coins and jewels and scales so startling in their accuracy it seemed as if they could be plucked from the walls. The inns’ carvings indicated their specialties. Dev’s greedy eyes drank in the sight of an inn with incredibly detailed hops chiseled into its surface. On the other side of the street was another, but this one depicted grapevines heavy with fat clusters of grapes.
“Shala is a beautiful city, is it not?” Adar said, watching his son’s reaction.
“It is.”
Smiling, Adar reined his horse in, slowing their pace so that Dev could get a better look at the wonderful city, and Dev smiled his gratitude at his father.
All too soon, they rode into the castle bailey, but Dev’s disappointed eyes soon realized there were even more wonders to be seen in the castle bailey than there were in the broad city squares. Knights in elaborate worked plate hustled around, some training, others riding off to unknown destinations, squires darting out of the way of their horses’ hooves. Amid all this activity, a small figure gamboled about, riding a hobby horse and waving a minuscule wooden sword in the air.
“Charge!” yelled the small knight, pointing her sword toward one of the bailey walls. She wore a tiny leather helmet, obscuring her face. A long, brown braid hung down her back, tangled tendrils fighting for freedom.
Dev suppressed a laugh as the little girl galloped across the bailey, digging her heels into the earth so that she came to a screeching halt inches from the bailey wall. Thrusting her helmet from her head, she tossed it in the air and let out a whooping cheer, and Dev could no longer hold back his laughter. Her head swiveled toward him, and the fierce expression on her small features, the intense look in her deep brown eyes made the laughter die. She sneered at him and he sneered right back. Didn’t the insolent wretch know that he was a prince?
“Did you slay the dragon, Princess Jessmyn?” Adar called to her.
Sliding her eyes from Dev’s face to Adar’s, she dropped into an awkward curtsy, hampered by the hobby horse she still sat astride.
“I did indeed, Your Majesty,” she replied.
Dev stared at the girl in disbelief. This was Princess Jessmyn? She glared back at him.
“Well, my son, I think you two shall get along famously,” Adar said, his voice full of amusement.
Chapter 4
It surprised Jess to find herself in one of the small antechambers just off the great hall. She didn’t remember walking there. Judging by her father’s grip on her upper arm, he must have propelled her into the chamber. She and her father were not alone, however: the Estorian royal family had joined them, along with her mother, Pala and one of the other guards who’d been stationed outside of Dev’s chamber, and Dev’s friend, Lord Shan.
“Tell me what happened and tell me quickly,” Omar ordered, his voice tight. He maintained his hold on his daughter, and she was grateful to him for anchoring her in reality. Pala and the other guard looked stricken. Both bent their knee to their king, their heads bowed. The other guard looked even worse for the wear than Pala.
“They came out of nowhere, Your Majesty,” the other guard said. He swallowed convulsively. “We were overwhelmed by a flash of light, and then smoke filled the corridor.”
“Smoke? There’s a fire?” Farah asked, alarm evident in her voice.
“No, Your Majesty.” Pala shook her head. “The light and smoke came from alchemical devices. There are scorch marks on the floor in the corridor and in the chamber where Prince Devaran was waiting. The light was meant to stun us, while the smoke rendered most of the guards unconscious. Those of us who didn’t succumb tried to fight, but we were blinded.”
“Was anyone killed?” Omar asked.
“One of the assailants, but he didn’t die at the hands of a guard,” Pala said.
“His companions killed him to prevent us from questioning him,” Tanvir said, his voice harsh. His worry was plain on his face, and he stalked around the chamber, flinging his long cape aside as he paced. Jess could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to deduce who might have wanted to attack his brother or humiliate her father.
“Is there anything distinctive about this assailant? Any marks we can use to identify him?” Jess asked, finding her voice at last. Now that the initial shock of the announcement was wearing off, her head was clearing. The heat of her panic drained from her, leaving behind cold calculation. It was time to focus, to collect all the pieces and attempt to fit them together.
“Nothing that I saw, Your Highness,” Pala said, addressing Jess. “We’ve left him where he was slain, in case you would like to take a look.”
“I would,” Jess said.
“As would I,” Tanvir added.
“What of my son?” Adar asked, his voice ringing against the stone walls of the chamber.
Shan grimaced. “They took him, Your Majesty. The flash of light stunned me, and I must have lost consciousness when they released the smoke. I woke just as they were leaving the chamber with Dev—with Prince Devaran. I tried to stop them but I could barely move.” Even now, Shan was propped in a chair, his limbs limp and useless. Pala had told them it had been impossible to rouse Dev’s other companions.
“Was he alive?” Nishana asked, her voice high with fear.
“I believe so, Your Majesty.” Shan’s face was desolate, and Jess imagined he would have a difficult night ahead of him, one filled with self-recrimination.
“They must have some purpose for him,” Tanvir said. “Nothing else makes sense. If their intent had been to assassinate him, they would have done so at once.”
“Are you saying someone means to strike against us?” Adar asked. “Who would dare?”
“We have our enemies, Father. But it may be that the intent was to strike against both our Realms with one blow.”
Jess met Tanvir’s eyes and immediately understood what he meant. “It’s a trap. Whoever took Dev believes I will come after him—and I will go after him.” Her jaw was so tense it made her teeth ache. The brittleness she’d felt when she’d first heard of Dev’s disappearance was replaced by a sense of steely determination. Whoever had dared take Dev had best be prepared for Jess to give them exactly what they wanted.
“One other thing, Your Majesty,” Shan said. “The assailants, I heard them talking, and they spoke with Moritanian accents.”
“Yes, I heard that as well,” Pala confirmed.
“Are you telling me Mallaric staged such an abduction while a guest in my court? That is an act of war.” Omar’s voice was deadly calm, and Shan swallowed.
“Or Mallaric is also in danger,” Tanvir speculated.
“Pala, find Mallaric and tell him I wish to speak with him. And dispatch messengers immediately with instructions to seal the borders. No one is to get in or out of Lyrane until we have located Prince Devaran.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Pala crossed her right arm over her chest, closed fist pressed against her left shoulder, before she stood and hurried from the chamber.
“Do you know of any discord in Moritan?” Omar asked Nishana and Adar.
“No, we do not and, naturally, we pay close attention to such rumors,” the queen replied.
“We have heard none either,” Farah said, looking troubled.
“Corstan, summon Medhan,” Jess told the remaining guard.
“Yes, Your Highness.” Corstan bowed and pressed his fist to his shoulder before leaving to fetch the spymaster.
A
nxiety gnawed at Jess’s stomach. Chances were the assailants would remove Dev from the Realm as soon as possible, as they would know Jess would search every corner until she found him. No matter how much they tightened security at the ports and borders, there were ways around it.
Mallaric entered, pulling Jess’s attention away from her thoughts. “Omar, my friends, I certainly hope the rumors I’m hearing are untrue. I cannot believe someone could have spirited Prince Devaran from your Realm.” Though his tone was one of concern, there was also a note of accusation.
“It appears that is the case,” Omar said stiffly.
“We have heard something that may be of interest to you, Your Majesty,” Jess said, cutting into the conversation. She didn’t like Mallaric’s implications, and she felt the urge to take him down a notch or two. “Our guards and a member of Prince Devaran’s retinue heard the assailants speak, and their accents marked them as subjects of your Realm.”
Mallaric’s face turned a deep shade of purple, and Jess’s father shot her an exasperated glance while her mother’s look could have killed. Jess didn’t care. She had no time for Mallaric’s pomposity, nor did she give a fig for his tender feelings. Dev was moving farther and farther away from the castle as they stood about dithering. If the assailants moved swiftly enough, they might even be able to make it to a harbor and slip away on a ship in a matter of days.
“Are you accusing me of something?” Mallaric asked, his voice icy cold.
“Of course not, Mallaric. I know you would never act with such dishonor,” Adar said, and Mallaric looked a little mollified. Nishana didn’t appear as sanguine, though, as she stared at Mallaric’s back with a burning gaze. Tanvir looked impassive, but Jess knew he was taking in every last detail.
“We are concerned for your safety, Your Majesty,” Farah said.
“As well you should be. We should all be concerned for our safety, given what has happened here this day. I don’t know about the rest, but I plan on leaving as soon as my servants can make ready.”
[Fairytale 02] - Asleep (2013) Page 2