Spirit (Legend of the Dragons Book 1)

by Denelle Elison

  Desmond nodded in confusion. “Okay…I can see her doing this. However, isn’t she taking Abigail to their quarters?” he asked. “She said she was going to, and yet, I don’t see them here. And if she insists that this is now her room, where did my things end up?”

  “In the queen’s quarters,” Marta answered gesturing to Briahnna.

  Desmond took a deep breath. “Do we need to find somewhere else, Desmond?” Briahnna asked. “Does it make you uncomfortable to sleep in your father’s room?”

  “Slightly,” Desmond answered.

  “Your Majesty, I will have Atira’s things moved immediately,” Marta answered.

  “No,” Desmond said. “It does no good to have it sit empty. It’s fine, Marta. I understand how difficult Atira can be. These are the royal quarters, and they will remain the royal quarters.”

  “You’re sure?” Marta asked.

  “Yes,” Desmond said, nodding and dragging Briahnna to the door. “And besides I don’t want to have to wait to clean up.” He opened the door and shut it just as Marta asked. “What about Atira and her new lady’s maid?” But the door closed before he heard her.

  . . .

  Abigail followed Atira up and down hallways, stairwells, and through studies and different passageways. She knew exactly what the spoiled little brat was doing and she wasn’t going to bite at the bait. She kept her mouth shut and followed her knowing that Atira could see the exhaustion in Abigail’s eyes. Abigail didn’t care. She was numb from exhaustion. She was numb from feeling. And if she passed out in one of these hallways, stairwells, or wherever, she didn’t care. It would be a reprieve to be lost and alone for a night.

  Finally Atira stopped. “Ah!” she exclaimed. “Here we are! Finally! Sorry!” she said, laughing off her supposed mistake. “It’s been a while since I’ve had another lady’s maid,” she shook her head. “I go through them so often that Desmond hasn’t been able to find me one in forever. So I forget where you’re supposed to be.”

  “I’m sure,” Abigail deadpanned.

  Atira opened the door with a key and gestured for Abigail to enter. Then she slammed the door shut and Abigail could hear her run away.

  Abigail could barely see inside the supply closet but she turned around slowly and let her eyes adjust. She found the handle and nodded. Sure enough, she was locked inside. She slid her pack from her shoulder and spread her bedroll onto the cramped floor. She didn’t care. Someone would find her eventually and when they did she would have to deal with reality; a reality that she would face tomorrow. Little did the bratty princess know, she was the perfect distraction for Abigail.

  . . .

  “Where is she?”

  Desmond got up and opened the door to the hallway upon hearing Liam’s loud voice. “What are you doing, Liam?” Desmond asked. Atira was leaning on her doorframe clearly being stubborn as always. “Nice room,” Desmond said sarcastically.

  “I know how you feel about me training in the training facility,” Atira said innocently. “This way I have my own wall and equipment. I don’t have to spend so much time with the guards and soldiers. It’s fairly ideal. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Enough, Atira!” Liam said, exasperated. “Stop ignoring my questions! Where is Abigail?”

  Atira glared up at him. “Don’t ask me! She’s a magik! We know how trustworthy they are. She probably ran away first chance she got!” she spat.

  Briahnna suddenly appeared in the doorway. “We also know how trustworthy the twelve-year-old princess can be,” she said. She walked passed Atira and opened the door to Atira’s new room.

  “What are you doing?” Atira ran in behind her. “Get out! These are my private quarters!”

  “Until you can learn how to be grown up enough to have private quarters, they are not,” Briahnna looked out of the room and found a guard in the hallway. “Find someone to removethe lock on Atira’s door,” she said as she started searching the wardrobe, drawers, and finally under the mattress on the bed.

  “You can’t do that!” Atira yelled.

  “Ahah!” Briahnna exclaimed. “What door does this open?” she asked, holding up a key.

  Atira grabbed it from her. “Mine of course!” She held it up and away from Briahnna.

  Liam snatched it from behind and used it on the door. “Try again, Atira,” he said as it rattled uselessly.

  Bronsley showed up just then with tools to take the lock off Atira’s door.

  “Stop!” Atira yelled at him. She looked at Briahnna. “If I show you where she is will you keep the lock on my door?”

  “Show us now!” Liam growled.

  Atira stepped back in shock at the anger in Liam’s voice. He had never gotten angry with her.

  Briahnna sighed. “Bronsley you can go,” she said apologetically.

  Liam handed Atira the key. She took it and walked dispiritedly out of the room as everyone followed.

  Briahnna glared at Desmond in the hallway. “Thanks for your help,” she said sarcastically.

  He laughed. “Hey! That was impressive! I think I would have just interfered.”

  They followed Atira to the storage closet that she and Desmond had been locked in a few months ago.

  “Oh, Atira,” Desmond said as she unlocked the door. The door opened and Abigail stared up at them all bleary eyed and still half asleep on her bedroll.

  Liam knelt down. “Are you okay?”

  Abigail rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.” She looked around at all the faces looking at her. “How long was I in here?” she asked.

  Liam turned at glared at Atira. “About fifteen hours I’d say.”

  “What?” Desmond exclaimed. “You let us sleep for fifteen hours?”

  Liam shrugged. “Apparently you needed it. And I didn’t wake you up because I spent all morning looking for her,” he said, pointing at Abigail. “Of course Atira wasn’t any help. Were you?” he said accusingly.

  Abigail groaned and sat up.

  “Here,” Liam said, trying to help her up.

  She swatted his hands away. “I’m fine! Stop hovering! I was alone for an entire fifteen hours. I’d say that’s an improvement.” She looked at Atira. “Well hello, brat.”

  “Abby,” Briahnna berated.

  “Save it, Bri,” Abigail stopped her. “It doesn’t matter what you say. I’ll still say whatever I want to this little monster. She is, after all, in my charge is she not?” she asked Desmond, while staring Atira down. Desmond nodded and shrugged his shoulders.

  Atira looked at Desmond. “You’re just going to let her treat me like this?” she asked.

  Desmond put his hands up in defense. “You dug your own grave. Show her to her real quarters, Atira. We’re finished with your games.” He looked at Abigail. “Will you be all right?”

  Abigail smiled at the glaring princess and nodded. “Oh believe me,” she said. “We’re going to have lots of fun.”

  . . .

  Atira led Abigail to her new room. She opened the door next to hers. “Here,” she said looking thoroughly annoyed.

  Abigail gestured for Atira to go in first. “It’s not my room,” Atira said. “Mine is right here, next to yours.”

  “I’m not stepping foot in there until you do,” Abigail said.

  Atira rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Fine!” she walked in and turned around. “A nice actual bed for you to sleep on,” she said, pointing at the bed. “An armoire. And look! A bathing chamber!” she looked Abigail up and down. “I’m sure you can make very good use of that. In fact I’ll just leave you here for the rest of the day, because I’m sure that’s how long it will take.” She cringed and started to walk out of the room but was stopped by a wind shield.

  Abigail smiled sweetly at Atira when she turned. “I know,” Abigail said. “You want one desperately. Who knows how much control you’d have over people if you could just stop them in their tracks,” she gave her a placating look. “It’s refreshing really. I’m just sorry it’s something you will
never be able to do.” It was her turn to look Atira up and down. “Whereas, everything you are able to do? I should be able to do also.” Abigail looked in the bathing chamber. “I’m going to clean up, just as you said I should. Although, I don’t think it will take me as long as you said. You get to stay right here and wait for me. A shield isn’t hard to hold on one person.”

  “You can’t keep me stuck in here!” Atira exclaimed.

  “Watch me,” Abigail said, closing the door behind her.

  Atira stood glaring at the door. Then suddenly she was forced to the bathing chamber door. It flew open and Atira blew inside.

  “How does this work?” Abigail asked. She had the water pouring into the tub. “It’s freezing. I’m guessing with all of this hardware that there is a way to warm it.” Atira just stared at her. “Fine,” Abigail said. “Then watch me take a cold bath.” The door slammed shut behind Atira and Abigail knelt down took her shoes off and pulled her blouse up. Atira growled and grabbed some wood from a nearby pile, placed it under the tub, opened the vent, and lit a fire. She stepped back and elaborately gestured at the bath. “A warm bath just for you,” she said to Abigail.

  Abigail gave her a big smile, the door flew open, and Atira was shoved through it. Once again she was stuck in place staring at the closed bathing chamber door.

  . . .

  A battle of wills, that’s what Atira and Abigail had been stuck in for weeks. Everyday Abigail was exhausted. She didn’t have time to be consumed with loss and anger. She was too busy playing cat and mouse with the princess. Sometimes she was the cat, and sometimes she found herself as the mouse, especially when Liam and Desmond were training them to fight, along with Briahnna and Forster.

  Atira was a natural fighter, and Liam always paired her with Abigail while he paired with Forster. He wanted Atira to learn how to defend Abigail’s magic, and he wanted Abigail to use her magic along with whatever combat they were learning that day. Sometimes it was hand-to-hand. Sometimes it was swordplay. Either way Abigail felt incompetent, which she hated.

  The first two weeks, Liam taught her how to fight hand-to-hand, and then he taught her how to fight with a sword. The same had been for Briahnna, but Briahnna already knew most of it because Atira had taught her when Briahnna was Atira’s lady’s maid. Atira wasn’t about to help Abigail out. This was where Atira excelled. Abigail had been laid flat on her back countless times. She was determined that her magic would help, but Atira was so fast. Abigail couldn’t concentrate enough on her magic because she was too much on the defensive.

  And here they were, about to go at it again. Briahnna was up on a balcony fighting Desmond. Abigail was listening to them while she stretched. She decided to stop listening to their disgusting playful banter. Besides, how could that possibly be helping Briahnna in any way? She concentrated on what she was going to do to Atira today. Maybe if she mapped it out, she’d have a possible chance.

  Liam walked to her and knelt down. “Are you ready to try again?” he asked. Abigail nodded and watched Atira grab a wooden sword from the wall. She looked at Abigail and smiled. Abigail had enough. She stood, made the wind propel a sword to her, and Atira ran at her as she always did, putting Abigail on the defensive.

  Abigail threw her wind at her, but Atira kicked her legs out and side flipped around her wind, tumbled out of the flip, and met Abigail’s sword with her own. Abigail stumbled back and forced Atira’s sword off. Then they were meeting swords in a battle. Atira was so fast that Abigail had a difficult time keeping track of where her sword would hit next. Atira was backing her against a wall, and Abigail screamed in frustration and thrust a powerful gust of wind at her only to have Atira flip out of it, land on her feet, and run at her again. Abigail sidestepped her at the last minute and kicked her from behind, sending Atira straight into the wall. Right before Atira hit the wall, she jumped and grabbed a hold of a rock, swung around, and landed on the floor with a smile of triumph.

  Abigail screamed and suddenly a window broke and water streamed in straight at Atira. Atira jumped to dodge the first ball of water about to submerge her but had jumped straight into a second one. Abigail grabbed her foot and yanked her out. Atira landed on the floor coughing, and Abigail finally had her sword at Atira’s throat.

  Liam knocked it aside and was now challenging Abigail. He didn’t use his speed but kept her sword swinging at him. The floor rattled underneath his feet, and he stumbled just enough for her to kick him straight in the chest and throw a gust of wind at him. He somersaulted backwards to dodge the gust, then swept her feet out from under her. She landed flat on her back. But, she was suddenly so angry. She jumped up and used her wind to actually throw herself at Liam. When she hit him, they both rolled across the floor in a flurry of arms and legs. They landed side by side, but she rolled over and jumped on him. She hit him over and over again, and he just let her.

  Briahnna and Desmond jumped down from their balcony, but Liam held his hand out to them to leave her alone. Finally, Abigail realized what she was doing and stopped mid-swing, her breath in ragged sobs. She slid off him and stuck the palms of her hands in her eyes to will the tears back as she rocked back and forth.

  Liam sat up. “Who are you fighting for?”

  Abigail shook her head.

  “Who are you fighting for?” he yelled at her this time.

  “Carston!” she screamed back. “Carston! Carston…He killed them both,” she sobbed. “He killed Carston and Abriel.”

  She looked up, everyone watching her in horror. She crawled over to a trashcan and vomited.

  After she threw up, she sat back. “Carston was my fiancé,” she said. “He was on the frontline that went straight in to fight after Jerrick blew up the Thornhold wall. When the wall closed and they told us that they had taken prisoners, I figured he was one. Then they threw out the bodies of those who’d died during the fight inside. I hoped he wasn’t among those, but there he was lying right in the middle of them. He was thrown out like the insignificant piece of trash my parents said he was…” She looked up at Briahnna. “He didn’t get any hero’s death. He burned with the rest of those who have only a small amount of power; with all the magiks on the frontlines because that’s all they really had to give. I was going to marry him. No matter how much my parents resisted. If they had asked me to choose between them and him, it would have been him.”

  She stood up and left. Atira almost followed, but Liam stopped her. “I think she needs another fifteen hours.”

  Atira nodded. “Who is Abriel?”

  “Her twin brother,” Briahnna said. “Jerrick killed him.”

  . . .

  Someone was pounding on Abigail’s door. She sat on the window seat watching the soldiers practice below. She looked at the door and then turned back to watch the fighting below, completely ignoring the insistent noise that matched the cadence inside her head.

  Suddenly there was a rattle, a sliding, and then a click. Abigail looked back at the door to see Atira standing proudly inside it.

  “Liam told me you needed another fifteen hours to yourself. I think he’s wrong,” Atira said, marching toward Abigail. She grabbed Abigail’s arm, and Abigail yanked it back. “I’m not going anywhere with you!” Abigail exclaimed.

  “I don’t need your pity, brat,” she said, sitting back on her window seat.

  “Fine,” Atira said, sitting on the edge of Abigail’s bed. “Then I will just sit here and bug you until you decide to come with me,” Abigail ignored her and turned back to the window. “What’s your favorite color?” Atira asked. “How many siblings do you have? Do you like to run? I do. I’m pretty fast if you haven’t noticed. I like to flip too. Dodging the wind you throw at me is one of my favorite things. If I run fast enough, I can almost jump ten feet.”

  Abigail ground her teeth together and turned, giving Atira a look that said, if you keep talking I will propel you out the door.

  “Desmond is my only brother,” Atira continued a bit slower. “My mom
died giving birth to me. My father and Desmond raised me, and Jerrick killed my father.”

  Abigail’s face slackened. She had forgotten that Jerrick had killed the former king; she had been so consumed with her own grief. She stood up then and let a smiling Atira lead her to her own room next door.

  “Well, this wasn’t really what I was expecting,” Abigail said.

  Atira closed the door behind her and opened a cupboard above her sink. She grabbed a goblet and handed it to Abigail, then took one of her own.

  “I’m not going to drink with you,” Abigail said in disgust.

  Atira smiled, named her cup, and threw it at the wall. “Forster!” she screamed. She looked at Abigail. “I still have to get him back from when you first arrived. He avoids me.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. She looked at Abigail’s goblet. “Your turn.”

  Abigail looked aghast. “I’m not throwing this!”

  Atira shrugged her shoulders and grabbed another. “Bronsley! He ended up taking the locks off my door after all.” She threw it, then she grabbed another one. “Briahnna! She had him do it.” She grabbed another one. “Desmond! He let her do it.”

  “Liam!” Abigail yelled, threw hers, and it hit with a satisfying crash. “He didn’t distract you enough keep you from finding me.” She smirked at Atira, and Atira laughed and handed her another one. “Briahnna! For being so perfect!” she growled, indicating for Atira to hand her another one after the one she threw crashed. “Desmond! For the way he looks at the perfect queen!” Atira handed her another cup, and another, and another. “Mom! Dad!” she cried. “Abriel! For leaving me behind!”

  Atira grabbed another goblet “Jerrick!” she screamed

  Abigail threw hers too. “Jerrick!”

  Atira threw another cup. “Abby! She always forces me with her magic to do things I don’t want to do.”

  A laugh burst from Abigail at Atira’s unexpected announcement. “Atira! For always beating me in combat and being a brat!”