The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set

by Kelly Blanchard

  “But you look exactly alike.”

  “Not exactly.” Therth shook his head and smiled a little. “My hair tends to be a little blonder than his.”

  Atheta shook her head and stepped away from him again. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”

  Therth lifted his hands to show he meant no harm. “As I said, I am Theran's cousin—”

  “Then why did you just lead me to believe you were Theran?”

  He sighed. “Because I've doubled for him on more than one occasion, and I didn't want to disturb you.”

  “Disturb me?” Her voice rose a few octaves, and Therth motioned for her to keep her voice down, but she ignored him as indignation flared in her eyes. “How do I know this is not some trick Lorrek has conjured?”

  “Have you ever known Lorrek to jest?” Therth's eyes darkened.

  Atheta hesitated. He was right. However, she needed to know, “When exactly did you double for Theran?” She took a step forward, and Therth knew to take step back; when she was furious, words were her weapons, and he knew he was no match for her in that arena.

  Tucking his hands behind his back, he bowed his head for he knew she was the eldest princess of Serhon while he was an invisible member of the royal family of Cuskelom with no claim to the throne. They were as different as commoner and royalty, so she deserved his every respect—even if that meant answering questions he preferred not to.

  “A few months ago during the marriage talks, I covered for Theran. He had gotten himself drunk after a rough training session that morning, so I filled in for him. While your father and the king were discussing the details, I excused myself to keep up the appearance of a busy prince, but then you also excused yourself and followed me. You spoke of the wedding plans. There was a light in your eyes and your smile that made you glow as you thought of the future, but then you asked me how I felt about the arranged marriage. As you can imagine, Princess, I wanted nothing more than to leave rather than answer because it was not my place to answer, yet you demanded it of me. I told you I was thrilled, but you didn't believe me, and I couldn't explain to you why—”

  “Because you were not Theran.”

  He nodded. “Theran loves you very much, Princess, and I did not want to be the cause of division between the two of you.” He shook his head.

  Her eyes continued to search his face for words no voice could speak. “Did you ever kiss me?” When Therth looked away, Atheta situated her face in front of his to maintain eye contact. “Did you?”

  He swallowed and cast his gaze to the nightlife of the city of Jechorm out the window, but he still saw her in the reflection. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  She folded her arms. “When?”

  Several occasions passed through his mind, but only one stuck out, and he was sure she would remember it. Tearing his gaze from the window, he looked down at her. “Do you remember that time when I—Theran—and you had to go to Talhon to confirm a peace treaty? You were the main negotiator, and Theran was sent—well, I was sent in his place—to show Cuskelom's support for you.”

  Atheta nodded as the memory dawned in her mind. “It was a long week, but we were successful.”

  “And after the final meeting, we emerged from the council hall victorious—thrilled with our victory and success...”

  “And I kissed you.” Atheta brought a hand up to cover her mouth, but she creased her brows as she remembered more. Dropping her hand, she placed it on her hip and looked at him. “But you pulled back—said it wasn't right, and you walked away. That was you and not Theran?” When Therth ducked his head but nodded, she tilted her head. “But why?”

  “Theran had been...reckless before we left on the journey. His father received word that he was being held in the local prison for his stupidity and endangerment of life, and the king decided that remaining locked up for several days would teach his son a lesson, so he sent me in his stead.”

  “But why didn't you tell me who you were?”

  Therth shook his head. “I was under an oath to keep my existence a secret.”

  “And now?” She lifted her brows as he brought his eyes up to face her. “Why can you suddenly speak of it?”

  Because I cannot lie to you anymore, he wanted to say but knew he could not. “Prince Lorrek gave me permission.”

  “So he is here—Lorrek.”

  “Yes, because my brother, Loroth—”

  “So you do have a brother!”

  Therth sighed and gave her a look for interrupting again, but then he nodded. “Yes, Loroth—he is Lorrek's double.”

  “Lorrek has a double?” Atheta was taken aback by this, and Therth rubbed the bridge of his nose to ease the tension and frustration he was feeling.

  “Yes, Princess. Loroth and I grew up in the shadows of the palace. Only a small handful of people, who raised us and trained us, knew of our existence. Please do not ask me for times when my brother doubles for the prince. I do not keep track of it. However, we are here because—”

  “We need to talk.” This final interruption caused Therth to growl, but it wasn't Atheta this time. Therth managed not to snap as the individual, who had caused the disruption, stepped into view.

  “Lorrek.” Therth acknowledged him with a nod but then took a step back. He knew this was the prince's conversation, and he was nothing more than a shadow.

  Atheta looked between Lorrek and Therth before she finally settled on Lorrek—her arms still crossed. “Prince Lorrek, Therth was telling me he is not Theran...” She left the sentence hanging to allow the Cuskelian prince to pick up the conversation.

  Recognizing the tension for what it was, Lorrek locked eyes with Therth then tilted his head toward the door. Therth acknowledged the dismissal with a nod and excused himself. Once he was out of hearing range, Lorrek folded his arms and stared at Atheta—waiting.

  She opened her mouth to say something, but then pressed her lips together, and hugged her arms close to herself as she turned to face the window.

  Lorrek remained unmoved behind her and watched her body language for any erratic responses. If she swung around and flung a fist at him, he knew he could sidestep out of the way. If she raised her voice in rage, he wanted to drape a silencing spell around them, so no one other than the two of them could hear the conversation.

  Finally, Atheta sighed and shook her head. “Why was I not informed of Theran's double?” She stared at Lorrek's reflection in the window rather than facing him. “What would have happened if Theran had been unable to attend to our wedding because of his repeated foolish behavior, and what if Therth had been forced to stand in his place?” She whipped around with fire in her dark brown eyes. “Would your family have been so content with deceiving me, even at my wedding?” Shaking her head in disgust, she raked her hands through her long, straight brown hair and turned back to the window with a dry laugh. “Do you want to know the worst thing? I don't know if I truly love Theran or Therth. There were days when I couldn't stand Theran because he was so reckless and careless, but then there were times when he was everything a true prince should be—noble, brave, honorable. How do I know it was Theran and not Therth? How am I supposed to know?”

  Lowering his gaze, Lorrek stared at the floor. He had no answer for the princess though she rightly deserved one. He never thought about the consequences or how long the existence of their doubles could remain hidden, but Atheta brought up good points. Lorrek wished his father had considered these complications before he had acted so rashly. Now Lorrek found no fair speech could help him smooth over the situation; however, Atheta's confusion with Therth's existence was the least of his concerns.

  “Loroth—Therth's brother and my double—is dying because of a forced magic infusion done by my father before Lo was even born.” His statement caught Atheta's attention, and she shifted to face him with puzzlement in her eyes. Lorrek nodded. “That's why we're here, and I need you to tell me everything you know about this place before they kill him.”

  Atheta op
ened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it, and shook her head. Giving Lorrek a hard look, she tilted her head. “Why did you bring him here in the first place if you think they're going to kill him?”

  “Under the pretense of curiosity?” Lorrek lifted a brow. However, when Atheta's glare didn't lessen, he stepped in closer and lowered his voice. “Because before I came here, I didn't realize there was something beyond magic and simple technology they're distorting.”

  Atheta's eyes searched his face. “What do you mean?”

  Lorrek sighed and glanced around. He hadn't noticed when he first arrived in this facility because he had been focused on the operation and a cure for Loroth, but as he roamed the halls, he had seen the armored guards standing at strategic positions in corridors, at doors, and in large rooms. Armor covered every inch of their bodies, and a helmet with a reflective visor prevented anyone from staring into their faces.

  Pelham had noticed his observation of a guard then laughed and clasped Lorrek on the shoulder. “Aren't they amazing? We call them our Guardians. They are our very own invention and the highest level of technology we have around here.” Lorrek frowned when he heard this because the robots seemed almost humanoid. They moved without the creaks or motorized sounds of technology, but rather absolute silence—other than the occasional clacking of armor against armor.

  “The Guardians.” Lorrek looked back at Atheta, and she took the chance to glance around the room to see the seven gray-armored Guardians, who stood in various locations around the room.

  She turned back to Lorrek and nodded. “Yes. What about them?”

  “Something's wrong.” When she only gave him an impatient look, Lorrek sighed and tried to think of a way to explain. “Pelham said they're technology—the highest form of technology they have here, but every piece of technology has a certain hum in the magic realm. They don't have it. They're a void.”

  She furrowed her brows and shot another glance at a Guardian. She stepped closer to Lorrek and whispered, “What do you mean?”

  Lorrek sighed. Atheta was a simple woman—highly intelligent and winsome with her words and beauty, but when it came to magical matters, she was clueless. He knew better than to try to educate her now. He shook his head. “Think nothing of it, Princess. It is good to see you, but I must say your presence here is a surprise. Why are you here?”

  For a long moment she stared at Lorrek. She caught his abrupt change of subject, and she wasn't sure how to follow his thoughts or how to ask about his suspicions, so all she could do was answer his question. She averted her eyes. “My father—he's here too. He requested I accompany him here.”

  “Requested or demanded?”

  She crossed her arms. “What difference does it make? Now, would you care to explain to me why you never told me about your cousin and Theran's lookalike?”

  “What difference does it make?” He saw her ready to protest, but he also noticed the two women, who had been sitting at a table observing their conversation, finally rose to their feet and were approaching them. Lorrek looked back down at Atheta. “We will continue this discussion tomorrow morning at sunrise. I will send Therth to fetch you. Be sure to be ready.” With that, he looked over Atheta's shoulder to the women, who were now close enough to engage in conversation, and Atheta noticed his distraction and looked over her shoulder.

  Realizing her friends had come, she relaxed and smiled back at Lorrek. “Prince Lorrek, allow me to introduce to you Lady Inecha and Lady Erita. They are both sorceresses.”

  Lorrek made quick assessments of them. He recognized Inecha’s name from dealing with politics in Talhon, but he couldn’t quite place her. She was not much shorter than Erita, yet she had a smaller and fainter presence although her proper posture reminded him of a princess. Her shoulder length hair looked more brown than black, so he assumed she rarely used her magic skills. Her features retained a soft look to them, though not one of being naïve, but rather of patience and much experience. Lorrek bowed his head to her then shifted his attention to Erita.

  Her fiery spirit within the magic realm reminded him of Vixen, but where Vixen possessed raw skill and the ability to adapt and survive, Erita wore magic. She stood tall in her own clothes rather than the gray and black of the patients, and she wore her black hair swooped up in a graceful bun exposing her elegant neck. She locked eyes with Lorrek immediately, and he felt an intrusion in his mind—someone was trying to examine his defenses.

  Slamming up the mental shields around his mind, so she would not catch a glimpse into his thoughts or memories, he shot Erita a sharp glare. “Do not...” he took a step toward her, “do that again.” Her eyes widened, and she took a step back, but Lorrek already retreated to Atheta's side. “You are friends with Princess Atheta.” It was a question presented as a statement. “And you have magic.”

  “A while back we noticed the princess suffering from severe headaches, and we offered to ease them with our magic.” Inecha nodded.

  Lorrek slid Atheta a look to see her confirming nod as well. He recalled the headache Vixen suffered just after the first session, and he made note to ask Atheta more about the progressive sessions. However, for now, he turned his attention back to the sorceresses. “Ladies, it was a pleasure to meet you, and Princess, I look forward to speaking with you in more detail. For now, you must excuse me. There is much to be done before the morning.” With that, he bowed to them, backed away, and then turned on his heel and headed for the exit.

  As soon as he stepped outside the huge cafeteria, Lorrek slowed his steps until he came to a full stop. All around him at the intersection of corridors, everything appeared to be normal with people going here and there on their personal errands. A Guardian stood at the end and beginning of each hallway with the butts of their rifles on the ground while their hands rested on the barrel of the weapon. In an instant, Lorrek knew, they could change from a relaxed guarding position to a defensive or offensive posture, but that wasn't what caught his attention.

  He felt himself pass through a silencing and cloaking spell when he stepped out of the cafeteria, and when he looked around to see who might have cast it, he saw on one side the blond-haired man he had seen in the fighting arena. Looking to the other side, he saw the dark-haired man who had been sparring with the blond man in the arena. Both wore black clothing though the blond also wore a black leather trench coat. The dark-haired one stood a bit taller than the other, and his broad shoulders reminded Lorrek of Theran and Therth while the blond's leaner body reminded him of Loroth and himself. If he had to guess which one had more magic, he set his bets on the blond but did not lose sight of the other.

  Lorrek frowned but did not move as they closed in on him on either side. He instinctively reached out to his magic—ready to lash out at them if threatened.

  “I assume you noticed the abnormality of the Guardians.” The dark-haired man started the conversation in such a casual way that Lorrek didn't feel threatened—yet. “I am Adonis and that is my brother, Skelton.” Adonis motioned to the blond.

  “Skeleton?” Lorrek lifted his brows as he shot Skelton a look.

  “No!” The blond shook his head as he unfolded his arms and approached. “Skel-Ton! It's one less 'e' than skeleton. Why does everyone get that wrong?

  “Skel...” Adonis tried to calm him, but Skelton shot him a glare.

  “No. I told you I should change my name! At least it won't be so distracting.” He crossed his arms once more and continued to glare at Lorrek.

  Realizing it best to return to the original point of this conversation, Lorrek fixed his gaze upon the more mature man, Adonis. “Is there a purpose for this ambush?”

  “Ambush?” Adonis laughed. “We just wanted to talk to you, as I said. I assume you noticed the abnormality of the Guardians.” He nodded down the hall to the several Guardians standing at their posts.

  Lorrek noted the Guardians without taking his eyes off the brothers. Uncertain of their motives or if he could trust them, he gave a slig
ht nod. “What of it?”

  For a moment Adonis stared at him as if expecting something more, but when Lorrek offered nothing, Adonis laughed—an almost frustrated sound. “Something is wrong.” Lorrek merely lifted a brow at the man’s' claim, so Adonis motioned for the Cuskelian prince to follow him and led him to a short corridor closed off by a door. He gestured to it. “That's where the Guardians come from. The only people who go in and out of those doors are Pelham, Asalda, and Kyra.”

  “Kyra?” Lorrek slid Adonis a look from the corner of his eye but kept his attention on the door. It appeared like any other corridor in this facility with an endless choice of doors, but he noticed how it was directly across from the door of the first floor lobby, and no other door or hall was on that side of the building. The lifts that took people to different levels of the building were on either side. Lorrek didn't know what this meant—if anything—but he listened as Adonis identified Kyra for him.

  “Yes, the only woman who wears white around here. She is unnaturally pale.”

  “From Athorim perhaps?” Lorrek recalled the ashen features of King Caleth and knew all Athorians had such traits.

  Skelton laughed. “Nay—certainly not Athorim. Her hair is red—strikingly red...unless there are any redheads in Athorim.”

  Lorrek paused then looked at Skelton—at his blond hair then at his face. “I venture to guess you are not from Athorim either?” He cocked a brow.

  Touching his hair, Skelton gave a chuckle while Adonis glared at him and answered Lorrek's question. “He bleaches his hair—thinks it gives him power of some kind.”

  “It does!” Skelton insisted. “The ladies—especially the sorceresses—are always awed when I walk into the room because most of them have never met a sorcerer with pure magic.”

  Lorrek watched Skelton's theatrics, unimpressed. “You do realize they can sense the true nature of your magic—especially Countess Verddra.”