The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set

by Kelly Blanchard

  Her jaw dropped, and her temper flared. “I had no control over that!” She curled her hands into fists as she took rough steps to follow after Theran.

  He laughed. “So what happened?”

  Mordora hesitated as she thought back to that time. Skelton, Adonis, and Radella had been tracking her down, so she was constantly on the move. “After the Battle of Cuskelom, I was on the run. Thanks to my former alliance with King Roskelem, I knew I would be tracked down, and I was right. I had been concerned that they would seek to strip me of my magic, and I had just had it unlocked, so I wasn’t about to let someone take it from me.” Now that she was saying all this out loud, she realized how selfish it had been. Still, she went on. “I recalled Roskelem mentioning this secret book of spells he had where he learned his spells, so I snuck back to the library in the Serhon palace and searched for it.”

  She recalled opening book after book, reading a few lines, and then shoving the book aside when she realized it mentioned nothing of magic or spells. “There was one book in particular I opened, and I don’t remember much other than the dust that flew in my face when I opened it. There was so much that it made me cough.” She shook her head. “And then I started arguing with myself, like there was a voice in my head, and I got the urge to go elsewhere because I was convinced I would find a source for even greater power. The voice didn’t stop bothering me until back there.” She motioned back to where they had encountered Rykeldan.

  When Theran and Kinnard heard this, they shared a look, and Kinnard furrowed his brows, glancing at Mordora. “Do you think that book put a spell on you?”

  “Perhaps—I don’t know. It was only after that that I knew where to go to find that bracelet. I knew exactly what I had to do, and I did it.”

  “Once you put the bracelet on, was there any change with the...voices your heard in your head?” Kinnard asked.

  Mordora nodded as she continued down the path, following Theran’s lead. “Before I put on that bracelet, it was merely a voice—like my own thoughts—but after I put on the bracelet, I saw him—Rykeldan, and he wouldn’t leave me alone. I tried to get him to leave me, yet I kept lashing out with my powers.” She looked at her hands, recalling how easily the power came. “It was like...I was more powerful than ever, and I couldn’t control it.”

  Theran frowned when he heard this, but he had to stop as he turned to look at her—finally asking a question that had bewildered him. “Why did you turn everyone else, including Adonis, into stone, yet you only poisoned Skelton?”

  She lowered her gaze. “I...I didn’t want him to get hurt.” She lifted her chin, resolute, and met the reflective visor of Theran’s helmet. “He’s the only one who has ever believed in me—ever tried to steer me to the right path after everything that happened. I pleaded with him to leave me alone, but he wouldn’t, and I couldn’t stop the blast of magic that hit him, but apparently it had been a different kind of spell.”

  “Do you know what kind?” Kinnard lifted his brows as he came up close behind Mordora—her signal to keep walking.

  Mordora resumed her stride and shook her head, trying hard to remember. “I don’t know. I’ve never actually used that spell before. It didn’t feel like it was my power.”

  Theran said nothing as he continued to lead the way, but he contemplated this. Although he wasn’t as well-versed in the ways of magic as Lorrek was, it almost sounded as though the book Mordora had opened had a certain spell that would be cast upon the reader and force them to comply to another’s will—likely that of Rykeldan. How that worked while he was contained in the bracelet, he didn’t understand. Yet it also seemed as though once Mordora put on the bracelet, she was able to channel his power to an extent, or perhaps Rykeldan was merely using her magic in ways she didn’t understand. Theran wasn’t sure how this would work, and he wished Lorrek was around to explore this option, however, he wasn’t, so Theran kept these observations to himself.

  For now, the important thing was finding Skelton and having Mordora heal him. Theran had his doubts that she could do that, but he dismissed them for now. Once Lorrek was well again, he could make all things right.

  In the meanwhile, they merely had to wait.

  21

  As soon as Anelm returned from Jechorm, she motioned which way she and the thymords needed to go, and she didn’t hesitate as she took the lead. Reven and Draben shared a look but then shrugged and went after her.

  The day wore on until dusk came, and finally Draben decided he had had enough. “Darling, I’ve got a question that has been bugging me for a while now.” He caught up with the princess. “Why did Rykeldan respond to you the way that he did?” When she gave him a perplexed look, he remembered that she had still been in the magic realm, and he tried to find the words to explain. “When he came out of the bracelet...or wherever he was, he went straight for you, but of course he didn’t reach you because we blocked his way.” Draben gave Anelm a charming smile, but she merely arched her brow then shook her head and glanced ahead once more.

  “Those of us born in Athorim are descendants of the kelliph race. Perhaps he saw something familiar—something he hadn’t seen or expected to see after his time imprisoned in that bracelet.”

  “He called you Therina,” Reven pointed out, and Anelm hesitated.

  She had hoped these strangers knew nothing of the kelliph history, and she wasn’t sure what exactly to tell them or how much they knew. “He must be confused. He was imprisoned for a very long time.”

  “Therina was his soulbound.” Reven kept her eye on the princess to see her reaction. How much, or how little, did Anelm know? “Legend says she broke him when she rejected him, thus breaking the Dragon Prophecy.”

  This earned a chuckle from Anelm. “King Rykeldan broke that prophecy first by loving another before his soulbound found him. As it was, Therina had grounds to refuse him. She had no obligation to love someone who would, could, and already had betrayed her.”

  “And that refusal almost led to the extinction of humankind on our world.” Draben’s statement caused Anelm to halt and consider his words, but then she locked eyes with him, and a small smile touched the corners of her lips.

  “Yet, without that conflict, the handblades and the World Orbs would never have been forged. If that was so, we would not be speaking today. If that had been so, you would likely be nothing more than a mere farmer rather than living a life full of adventure. Why do you complain?” She tilted her head, curious.

  Now it was Draben’s turn to pause. He snuck Reven a look, hoping for her help, yet she merely shrugged. Anelm made a good point. Still, Draben wasn’t about to let go of the original point. “But he mistook you for Therina—not any other kelliph.”

  Anelm nodded and resumed her walk. “Tell me, do you know what a doppelgänger is?”

  “Someone with a striking resemblance to someone from the past,” Reven answered as she followed the princess.

  “I believe I may be Therina’s doppelgänger. Rykeldan has been a fascinating study for me, and once I came across a drawing of Therina, I noticed the similarities between her and me. That is one reason why when I learned of this development that I immediately set out to find everyone involved.”

  Draben stumbled over a step. “So...wait...what does that mean? You’re a direct descendant of hers? Therina had no offspring—that we know of.” He looked up at Reven for confirmation, and she nodded.

  Anelm shook her head. “Not exactly. Doppelgängers do not need to be related to one another. I know not how it works or why I have been chosen to bear her image, but if Rykeldan responds well to it, we will use it to our advantage.” She ducked under a low branch and continued on her way but glimpsed at the thymords. “So...the thymords...tell me of your kind.”

  “You have heard of us?” Draben raised his brows.

  “A little, but I prefer to hear it from you rather than simply assume anything. What I have learned may be outdated.”

  The thymords shared an uneasy loo
k, and Reven chose to speak first as she followed behind Anelm. “We’re from a world called Nedra. It’s far from here.”

  “Yet you travel effortlessly from world-to-world—by means of the handblade, I assume?” Anelm raised her brows as she gestured to the bracelet on their hands. She noticed how they looked uncomfortable talking about their origins, and she tried to ease that discomfort while still pressing for details. “I have seen the handblade in action while with the royals from Cuskelom. I’ve never fully understood it because I know it is neither magic nor technology.” She shot them another glance as she stepped over a fallen log. “So what is it?”

  “Have you ever heard of dragons?” Draben gave her a look, but Reven cut him off with a smile at Anelm.

  “It’s complicated. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?”

  Anelm let Reven step in front of her to take the lead, but she locked eyes with Draben. He had been about to tell her something, but Reven didn’t want him to. Why not? She suspected the thymords would say nothing else about their origins, their motives, or their past for the time being. She wondered if they really knew their own history. However, now was not the time to ask such questions. She had other issues to probe, but she would only do that when she had the opportunity to slip into the magic realm uninterrupted, and that would have to wait until they settled down to camp. In the meanwhile, they kept walking while Anelm kept an eye on the magic realm, trying to locate Rykeldan, who managed to vanish altogether despite the brilliant magic signature she had observed around him.

  She wasn’t sure where he would appear, but she kept walking, feeling drawn in this direction.

  After disappearing from the others, Rykeldan had reappeared in the center of a village. His sudden appearance startled those around him, and alarm spread as women ushered their children away and were swift to tell their husbands of this strange person who was exceptionally tall and pale. The men gathered their pitchforks, arrows, staves, and swords and went out to find this newcomer.

  Still on one knee and bracing himself with a hand, Rykeldan kept his head bowed and eyes closed as he tried to gather his strength. It had been a long time that he was imprisoned in that bracelet, or had it been that long? He saw Therina. The last time he saw her was shortly before he was trapped inside the bracelet. Despite his confinement, Rykeldan had managed to track time through magic. It was the only thing he had been able to hold onto, and he had been certain a thousand years had passed since he was banished. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He supposed in a way he shouldn’t be surprised because she was a kelliph after all, yet her health had declined sharply. He wanted to talk with her, but he was commanded away. The only reason he obeyed was because the thymords had handblades. The mere thought of the handblades caused Rykeldan to make a fist. How he hated the thymords!

  However, commotion around him caught his attention, and Rykeldan lifted his gaze and saw the armed villagers around him. A smirk touched his lips as he rose to his full height, towering over them. He had nothing to say to them, so he stared at them—daring one of them to speak to him.

  One villager with a sword shared an uneasy look with his fellow man before shifting his gaze back to this stranger. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

  “I am a mere traveler.” Rykeldan spoke with ease, but then his golden eyes hardened. “I am King Rykeldan the Kelliph, the Conqueror of Lands and the Terror of Humans. I suggest you leave.” Coldness laced each word he spoke, and he stared at them unrelentingly.

  The men shuffled back, uncertain what to think of this new threat, but one bravely stepped forward. “You have intruded on our home. You must leave!”

  Rykeldan exhaled a sigh and met the man’s gaze. “You should have heeded my warning.” He gestured at them, dismissively.

  An eerie silence fell upon the village as everyone was turned to dust.

  Only a crow called out and hopped from one tree limb to another, but Rykeldan ignored it as he began to move through the village, flexing his hands at his sides.

  His magic remained strong. It hadn’t weakened during his imprisonment, but then again, how much time had really passed? As he walked through the village, he spread his senses out, trying to find something familiar about this place, this land, and this world. It remained strangely silent, cold, and unfamiliar, and this perplexed him. What had happened to the world he had known? Had so many years passed that it was completely unrecognizable now? He had recognized the thymords for their weapon of choice, but what of the dragons? What had happened to this world?

  He needed to find Therina and speak with her, but at the same time something of this world whispered to him in the magic world—something familiar. It was a hum—a sound that had become so common to him and all those with magic in his world, that he had grown accustomed to it. However, here the hum had the same sound, but was more isolated. Determined to find the source, he set his sights on it and headed for Athorim.

  22

  Vixen stepped into Lorrek’s hospital room and found him dressed in his own clothes and sitting up on the bed, but his eyes were closed. She quieted her steps and sank down into the chair in front of the bed and against the wall. She sat back, crossed her arms, and waited.

  Lorrek sensed her presence the moment she walked in, but he chose not to acknowledge her as he surveyed activities within the magic realm. Although the nurses had come in and unhooked him from the machines, they had not yet discharged him. The only reason Lorrek didn’t magick away was because he would either have to leave without Vixen or take her by force—neither option was preferable, so he waited.

  And Vixen waited.

  With a sigh, Lorrek finally opened his eyes and locked gazes with her. “How much longer do you intend to keep me here?”

  A smirk touched Vixen’s lips. “As long as I need.”

  But Lorrek spread out his arms then gestured to himself. “I am fully healed.”

  “In body perhaps, but that’s not the only thing that’s broken.”

  Her words caused Lorrek to narrow his eyes as he lowered his hands. “What do you mean?”

  Sighing, Vixen placed her hands on her knees then pushed herself to her feet and approached Lorrek’s bed. “When was the last time you spoke with your father?”

  “He’s dead,” Lorrek reminded her as he watched her, perplexed. Why was she bringing up his father now?

  Vixen shook her head. “When was the last time you spoke with your father?” She repeated the question and kept a steady, unrelenting gaze on Lorrek.

  With eyes still narrowed in suspicion, Lorrek took a deep breath and allowed himself to fall back into memories. “Eleven years ago—a day before I took Loroth, Therth, and you to Jechorm...”

  Vixen nodded, glad they were progressing with the conversation. “What did the two of you discuss?” She tilted her head to a side, curious.

  The topic of Lorrek’s last conversation with his father escaped him, so he closed his eyes and thought back. “He had summoned me right after I had a training session with Verddra. Loroth had come to deliver the message to me personally.” But Lorrek had to think harder to remember the subject of the talk. “He had...” Lorrek paused when he recalled more. “It was a discussion of an arranged marriage.”

  Vixen lifted her brows. “Your arranged marriage?”

  He shot her a sharp look. “No.” Maybe, he didn’t add. “I assumed it was for Honroth. He was asking for my opinion of the woman.”

  Princess Anelm, Lorrek knew but had no interest in revealing this. Instead, he fixed Vixen with a firm look and crossed his arms. “What is the point of this interrogation? There are those who need my help, and mere chatter will not aid them.”

  Seeing she had tried his patience long enough, Vixen sighed. “You haven’t had time to grieve properly—not for his death or for Loroth’s death—”

  But Lorrek cut her off by chuckling and shaking his head. Then he shot her another look—a smile, but one with disdain. “I had ten years to contemplate their losses—
ten years of being alone, ten years alone with my thoughts. Do not speak with me on that matter. Now, if you are not so bothered, I desire for us to leave this place.” He swung his feet over the edge of his bed and stood.

  “What of Honroth?” Vixen stopped him. “What of his death?”

  This caused Lorrek to pause and falter slightly, but he quickly recovered. “I had a year to grieve his death while waiting for word of your condition.” He locked fiery eyes with her. “May we leave now?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.” She stalked up to him and tipped her chin upward to maintain eye contact, and she never looked away. “I want you to face it.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he lowered his voice. “What do you want from me? For me to break down and cry? For me to get angry and shout? I have no time for that. I recognize my hand in their deaths and even the grief I have brought upon Therth and his potential family by ripping them apart. I am responsible...for all of it. I cannot make all things right. I cannot fully redeem myself. I am merely trying to fix what I can.” He took a step toward Vixen and kept his eyes fixed with hers. She saw the glint of fury and frustration in his soul as he spoke with a low, dark voice, “Now...may we leave?” He offered her his hand.

  She looked at the hand, then up to his face, and crossed her arms. “No.” She stepped back as Lorrek growled in exasperation.

  “I do not have time for this. Mordora is unstable. Skelton is dying. There is a mad sorcerer out there more powerful than any I have ever encountered, and you want to talk about feelings?!” Lorrek towered over her.

  But Vixen didn’t back down. Instead, she grabbed him by the front of his tunic and shoved him back onto the bed. He looked up at her, surprised, and she placed her hands on her hips. “The only reason why I didn’t stab you just then is because I’ve seen the handblade strip people of magic, and I don’t want to do that to you.” She motioned to her vest, then back to him. “All I’m trying to tell you is you are not responsible for all the wrongs you’ve endured or for all the wrongs that have come upon this entire world. You have done what you can, and you continue to try to use your power for good, however...” she stalked up to him. “Don’t. Kill. Yourself in the process. Understood?”