“Can't be any worse than magicking with Lorrek or one of your sorcerers.” Vixen went to Therth and crouched beside him, gripping his shoulder.
“Be safe.” Theran nodded as he stepped closer to Erita.
Vixen chuckled. “You're telling me?” She lifted her brows but then reached over and touched the runes on the handblade.
Theran hadn't been joking when he said the first time was disorienting. As soon as Vixen reappeared in the halls of the palace of Cuskelom, Vixen toppled over Therth's body, dizzy, but heard the distant sound of alarmed shouts—low, deep voices that made no sense whatsoever. When she pushed herself off Therth's body and turned up to look at the people, all she saw were wavering walls and huge, slender people with wide and narrow mouths as they tried to talk to her, but the sound emerged slower than normal and sounded jumbled.
Vixen grunted and closed her eyes while taking a deep, cleansing breath. For a long time, she didn't open her eyes until the voices became clearer—one specifically stood out.
“Vixen, what happened?” Honroth—she knew that voice anywhere.
With another grunt, she forced her eyes open and was relieved to that find the room had stopped spinning and the people around her were the right size and no longer distorted. Immediately before her crouched Honroth with worry on his face, and he kept glimpsing from her to Therth and then to her again.
When he locked eye contact with her once more, she tried to talk, only to find her tongue incredibly heavy and her throat parched.
Seeing her distress, Honroth barked over his shoulder for a servant to bring some water, and once it was brought forth, he eased it to her lips. “Steady.” After letting her drink her fill, he eased the cup away and fixed his gaze on her once more. “What happened? Why is Theran unconscious?”
She licked her lips and glanced at the still unconscious form of Therth. “That's not Theran—it's Therth. He was working for Verddra.” When she saw Honroth's eyes widen in disbelief, she waved it off. “Long story, but Heldon's been captured—and Erita. Apparently Verddra ordered Erita to investigate...something, and she had Therth accompany her. Theran and I ran into them in the forest, and...” She motioned at Therth. “Theran’s doubling as Therth for now.” She paused when she realized how little sense any of this made, and then she cast Honroth a helpless glance. “Aye, it's a long story.”
“But what happened to him?”
“You mean, why is he beaten up?” Vixen gave him a grin. “That was me. The last time I saw him I told him I would beat him the next time I saw him, and that just happened. As to why he's unconscious...” Her gaze shifted to Inecha a step behind Honroth. “You might need Inecha to wake him. Erita cast a sleeping spell on him.”
At her words, Honroth rose to his feet and gestured for Inecha to step forward, and she did without complaint, dropping to a knee beside Therth's head.
While she worked to unweave Erita's spell, Vixen looked back at Honroth. “Also, we ran into Princess Mordora a few days back—”
“She has arrived safely but has yet to give her full account of what happened.” Honroth kept his focus on Therth, but then he realized Vixen was still sitting on the floor, so he offered her a hand.
Seizing the hand, she pulled herself up to her feet. “Someone needs to go and retrieve King Wordan's body for burial. It's being preserved by magic, but I don't know how long that spell will hold.” She watched Inecha's work then added, “Also, Theran's expecting reinforcements. He isn't expecting to hold off Verddra for very long.”
Honroth sighed and shook his head. “But I am on the verge of war with Jechorm. I cannot simply redirect my army! I wouldn't be facing this war in the first place if it wasn't for Theran surrendering that handblade to Jechorm.” He motioned to the bracelet on her hand. He then paused and frowned. “Why do you have it, anyway?”
She looked at the bracelet then at the king. “Because he still doesn't feel worthy of it.”
“Still, he needed it for something, and he should have asked me instead of promising it to Jechorm.”
For a long moment, Vixen stared at the brother who had taken on the role of king and carried the responsibility well. That was when she realized that Honroth had absolutely no idea the angle at which Theran had played his hand. Then again, Theran never made much sense anyway. “Honroth, I don't know his reasons, and I don't know why he stuck me with it, but I do know he needs you—so does Heldon.”
Honroth clenched a fist and set his jaw. Next time I see him...He didn't need to finish the thought, even in his head. The issue of the handblade, and now Heldon, along with the looming war against Jechorm—Honroth didn’t want to think of it. “You cannot expect me to simply withdraw all my forces. We are on the brink of war.”
“Your brothers need you.”
Honroth squeezed his eyes shut and then let out a heavy breath before opening his eyes to look at Vixen once more. “My kingdom needs me. I can, perhaps, spare a few men, but, due to Theran’s recklessness in retrieving his handblade, I have a war on my hands. The Jechorians are not so forgiving with the wrong dealt to them.”
Vixen lifted her brows as she crossed her arms. She tilted her head to a side. “Even if Theran himself apologies to the Jechorm senate?”
Honroth narrowed his eyes. Theran was in Nirrorm. What was Vixen talking about?
Therth's groan caused all eyes to fall upon him, and a slow smile crept across Vixen's face. She looked back at Honroth. “Oh, I think he owes you one.” She pointed at Therth.
Honroth frowned at first, not understanding her meaning, but then he caught on and nodded, crouching in front of Therth's face as he opened his eyes. A cold smile touched Honroth's lips. “Hello, cousin.”
Therth locked eyes with his cousin and saw that look in his eyes. He knew it meant nothing good, so he closed his eyes and grunted.
16
After disappearing from the forest, Erita had followed Verddra's magical signature, and with a gust of wind Erita appeared in the ballroom of Nirrorm's palace with Theran—posing as Therth. Torches and candles lit the once darkened chamber, and cobwebs still draped from candlestick to candlestick and in the top corners of pillars while dust blanketed the cracked marble floor.
Theran's gaze fixed on Verddra, who meandered through the center of the room as if admiring its wreckage. He knew that at the snap of her fingers it could all be repaired, but for some reason she waited.
“Ah, Lady Erita—you are back.” Verddra's voice drew Theran out of his thoughts, and he remembered that he was supposed to be a mere guard here rather than Erita's friend.
Grabbing Erita's arm, he dragged her toward the queen. For a moment he didn't know what to say to make himself seem like Therth, but then he remembered that Therth was a quiet man when he was in uneasy situations, so he said nothing at all as he dropped Erita at Verddra's feet and stepped back, folding his arms.
Verddra arched a delicate brow and then reached down, offering Erita a hand. When the younger sorceress looked at her hand doubtfully, Verddra only returned the stare until Erita took the hand and rose to her feet. “There.” Verddra smiled. “Much better. Now we're on equal ground. Tell me, Erita, did you find Prince Lorrek's signature?”
Theran fought hard to keep his face blank. He had forgotten that Erita had been sent to the forest for a purpose, and he wondered for himself what she had found.
“I only caught the faintest trace of his signature in the forest, Your Majesty.”
Theran realized what she had said, and he stood up straighter. Lorrek is alive?
Erita continued. “But it could have been left over traces from long, long ago. It was incredibly faint, and it had no direction.”
Verddra thinned her eyes and began to pace. “Are you saying he is alive?” She turned back to Erita in one sharp movement. “Or is he dead?”
Erita lifted her hands in a hopeless shrug. “I know not. Prince Lorrek was a powerful sorcerer during his time, and if he were still alive, he might have known how to mask
his signature.”
Pressing her lips into a thin line, Verddra paced once and then twice in front of them and finally locked eyes with Theran as she passed before them once more, but she spoke to Erita. “That must be very difficult for his brother to hear.” A smile touched her lips. “Guards!”
Theran's eyes widened when he realized she had identified him, and he moved to stand protectively in front of Erita as the guards stormed the room. Theran looked at his right where the guards stood, and then to his left where Verddra stood, and he felt helpless because he knew he couldn't protect Erita from both threats.
Verddra's laughter rang in the air, stilling all movements and chilling the blood in everyone’s veins. She looked upon Theran with cold amusement and a predatory smile. “Not to worry, Prince Theran. Nothing shall happen to Lady Erita. I'm merely sending her down to be with your dear younger brother. I am sure he is quite lonely now. It is you with whom I wish to speak.” At her gesture, some guards seized Theran's arms to prevent him from helping Erita as the other guards grabbed her and dragged her out of the ballroom.
Theran struggled against his restraints as they took Erita away. “Let me go!”
Verddra lifted a calming hand. “Not yet.” She kept her hand poised until Erita was out of sight, and then she motioned for the guards to release Theran and leave them. Once Theran had shaken them off and glared at them, Verddra chuckled as she considered the eldest prince of Cuskelom. “Thank you for coming, Prince Theran. I knew I could count on you.”
He scowled at her while his hands became fists at his sides. “What are you talking about?”
She tsked her tongue as she began to circle him. “I knew Cuskelom would not be able to mind its own business when another kingdom so near to home was attacked—especially a kingdom of friends. I was expecting someone to be sent here. Imagine my disappointment when your brother sent Heldon first—as if he could be of any aid to me.”
“Heldon is more resourceful than you give him credit for. You'll be surprised at what he can do.”
“Perhaps.” Verddra inclined her head in acknowledgment but then lifted her gaze back to Theran. A sneer twisted her features. “Yet he refuses to remove his handblade from his person, and I have given great consideration to cutting off his hand to remove the bracelet.” When she saw how Theran stiffened at this, she laughed at him. “Worry not, Prince Theran, I haven't acted upon such rash impulses—though I have been tempted to. I merely need your help.”
Theran narrowed his eyes. “There is no conceivable way you could have known I would magick back here with Erita.”
Verddra smiled. “You're right. I didn't know—at least, not for certain, but I have many, many versions of my plans.”
“Does one include me killing you?” Theran reached for his sword as he took a step toward her, but Verddra chuckled.
“Not exactly you killing me, but yes, I've even prepared for the event if you seek to do so—not that you would be successful, mind you.” Her eyes narrowed as sobriety filled her features, and she continued walking around him at a slow, steady pace.
Knowing she could throw him across the room and pin him to a wall with a mere wave of her hand, Theran forced himself to slacken his grip on his sword hilt. He might not be able to kill her, but perhaps he could get answers. “Why send Therth with Erita? Whatever you need from me, surely Therth could have done—deceiving others into thinking he was me.”
Upon hearing this suggestion, Verddra sighed as if disappointed, and she came back around in front of Theran, locking eyes with him. “Aye, I could have done so, yet I've worked closely with Therth all these years—since Lorrek abandoned him in Jechorm and killed his brother.”
“Lorrek did not kill—” Theran took a step toward her, but Verddra lifted her hand, halting him immediately with a look, not magic.
“Yes, I know what is said of Prince Lorrek. However, none of us know anything for certain, which brings me back to the reason why I needed you—the true heir of Cuskelom—rather than your double.” Verddra lowered her hand and resumed walking around him. “You see, Therth has proven to be a loyal captain of my guard, but there are simply some things he cannot do, and that is where you come in.”
None of this sat well with Theran, and he wondered if he could continue stalling until Honroth showed up with an army. He doubted that very much, but he needed to keep Verddra talking—keep trying to find answers. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” She sounded amused as she walked around him.
Theran curled his fingers into fists. “Why take over Nirrorm—kill King Wordan? He was a good man.”
“He forbade magic,” she said as if it answered everything, and then she shook her head and clicked her tongue. “You don't understand, Prince Theran, because you have never had such power in your mind and at your fingertips. Magic should not be forbidden—it should be accepted. King Wordan was simply in my way, so in killing him I did two things—rid myself of his nuisance and freed Nirrorm to welcome magic.”
“And in doing so you have made many enemies.” Theran thought of Mordora and wondered what had happened to Moren, but he knew not to mention them in case she had forgotten them.
Verddra smiled, amused at his claim. “Enemies are nothing new to me, Prince Theran. They have never held me back, and they most certainly never will.”
“What do you want?” He stood very still, measuring Verddra's steps in his mind and the distance between her and him and himself and the door. He already dismissed any thought of him actually making it to the door before she stopped him; he'd had enough experience growing up with Lorrek's magic to know how quickly a magic user could move. Instead, he fixed his sights on her—knowing he could hold her off temporarily with his brute strength. However, he wanted to find Heldon and free him, and he needed Verddra's help to do that.
Verddra recognized his frustration and smiled as she came to stand before him. “I want you to help me find someone.”
“And why would I do that?” Theran folded his arms. “I congratulate anyone who has managed to successfully avoid you.”
A blue fiery orb flared in Verddra's hand, but that was the only indication of her fury at Theran's words. Her face remained cold even as she extinguished the flame with a clench of her fist. She lifted her chin. “It is my daughter I seek.”
Theran's eyes widened, and he almost choked on his own breath but covered it up with a cough. “Daughter? I'm sorry, but I cannot see you as the mothering type.”
This earned him a glare from the queen. “Your relation to Prince Lorrek is obvious. Both of you share humor in the most inopportune moments. However, she is my daughter—through a surrogate mother. I was never able to have my own children, and while my husband...” She paused as if remembering him, and then blinked back to the conversation, and continued, “When he was still alive, we wanted nothing more than to have our own children, and when it was determined we could have none of our own, we agreed to have another woman bear our children. Now, that woman is dead, but my daughter is still out there—somewhere—and I want you to retrieve her for me.”
Theran narrowed his eyes. “Again, why would I do that?”
A smile crept across Verddra's face. “Because I hold your brother hostage perhaps? And I do believe you owe the Jechorians an explanation as to why they cannot have your handblade.” At Theran's confusion, her smile broadened. “Yes, you will go to Jechorm to find my daughter and bring her to me.”
“And if she doesn't want to come with me?”
“Use whatever means necessary.”
Theran frowned. He didn't like working for Verddra, and he hated the fact that he had walked right into her trap. However, he felt responsible for Heldon. “And if I do this, you will leave my brothers alone as well as Cuskelom?”
“Of course.”
Theran didn't believe her, but he knew he had no other choice. “Very well, what is your daughter's name?”
Verddra's smile never faded, and something coy
stirred in the depths of her soul. “She goes by the name Fawn now.”
“Fawn...” He had heard that name before during the very rare times he returned to the palace of Cuskelom. Then the name clicked. He remembered that Inecha had mentioned her. “Inecha's sister?” Theran snapped his eyes back up to Verddra's face, but the queen dismissed this with a wave of her hand.
“Her half-sister. They share the same mother.”
Theran opened his mouth with an immediate retort, but he hesitated as he thought through this revelation. He shifted on his feet. “Wait—you had Inecha's mother give birth to your daughter? Why?”
“The details are none of your concern!” Verddra's face hardened as her voice turned cold. “Now, you will go to Jechorm and bring me my daughter!” Her voice echoed through the room as a mighty wind tore through the corridors and whipped around them.
Taken by surprise at the sudden wind, Theran lowered himself to the ground to keep from falling over and lifted his hands to shield his face from the sharp gale, but he felt a familiar prickling on his skin and knew this wind was magic; he remembered it from the times when Lorrek had sent him someplace without accompanying him. Straining, he peered through his fingers at the motionless Verddra, but he saw the power in her eyes directing the wind—and no doubt his path through magic.
Unable to speak, unable to protest or even move, Theran could only close his eyes as the room tore to shreds around him, and he knew he was no longer in Nirrorm.
17
Lorrek came to the blackened field full of statues, and he stared at the stones without any visible emotion. During the walk through the forest, he thought about what he knew he would encounter here, and how King Roskelem could do such a thing. The more he mulled over it, the more fury stirred deeper and deeper within his soul.
The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set Page 16