The Golden Key Chronicles

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The Golden Key Chronicles Page 39

by AJ Nuest


  A furtive peek over the top of her wrist and hope soared. She pointed toward the shattered glass ceiling of Seviere’s domed chamber. “There! Enter there and drop us inside that room!”

  The walls of the castle trembled on their foundation as Reddeck landed. Candlesticks aligned along the altar wobbled and toppled over with a metallic clang. Rowena stepped forward on unsteady legs, arms outstretched to brace her balance as Fandorn’s Dregg vibrated the floor with his earth-pounding descent.

  Before she’d had the chance to order them otherwise, both Dreggs lurched and arrowed through the jagged opening above and into the gray sky.

  She exchanged a glance with Fandorn and returned his nod to affirm they had both arrived with their faculties—and limbs—in one piece, and the followed his lead when he stepped from beneath the circle of rain that streamed through the hole in the ceiling.

  The armoire door hung open, the mirror intact inside its gilded frame, just as she and Caedmon had left it…and exactly as she expected. And while the armoire no longer barricaded the door and instead stood in the center of the room this, as well, was just as she had anticipated. No crystal ball was needed for her to speculate that Gaelleod had ordered the rogue Dreggs to fly through the broken ceiling, and remove the armoire from before the door so he could gain entrance to the room. And, if her instincts were right, any minute now he would arri—

  The door swung open and she snapped her jaw shut, clenching her teeth hard against a soul-wracking shudder. Revulsion doused her in frigid swells, raising every last hair on her body.

  Gaelleod’s lifeless black eyes sparkled with delight above his cracked lip sneer. The black residue crusting the corners of his mouth held a little moisture, as if he’d recently ingested something well past its expiration, and the sickly sweet stench that rolled off of him reeked of maggot-filled flesh and decay.

  Rowena swallowed a gag and crossed her arms. She had nothing to fear. At least not from him. In fact, of the three lives in the room, hers was the one Gaelleod would protect at all costs. She was counting on it.

  His stygian gaze darted to Fandorn as he floated like some legless wraith over the threshold and inside the room. “I am not usually prone to surprise, Sorceress. I surmised you would attend our reunion alone.”

  The dual quality of his voice registered both high and low in her ear, as if more than one soul inhabited the carcass he passed off as his body. She shook her head to clear the disturbing notion and centered her attention on his words.

  Good. She’d caught him off guard. Hopefully this wasn’t the last—or largest—bombshell she was about to deliver. “I didn’t trust I could do this on my own. Fandorn agreed to accompany me and make sure I was successful.”

  The antechamber behind him remained vacant, no sound or movement floated in from the marble hall. While it made sense the guards were either entrenched in the battle or patrolling the castle walls, where were Gaelloed’s priests?

  “As you would.” He flicked his hand and Fandorn crumpled to his knees, gasping and clawing at his throat. “Your feeble wizard’s powers are no match for mine.”

  Adrenaline spiked in her stomach and she lowered her fists to her sides, clamping down on the urge to sprint to Fandorn’s aid. No good would come from her losing focus. So far, everything was proceeding according to plan. But she had to keep her wits about her, control her emotions and act fast before Fandorn lost consciousness.

  Gaelleod’s overconfidence was one of few things working in her favor, evidenced by the fact that he’d come alone. Even now, his minions were probably arranging the details of her prison. Or perhaps they had scuttled off somewhere dank and dark. At this very moment, they were gathering the arcane ingredients needed for some unholy union.

  But that’s where Gaelleod was wrong. He was dead wrong. “I didn’t come to fight you. We both know that’s a lost cause.”

  “You came to petition for your friends’ lives.” His low chuckle made her pulse race. The inherent evil inside it tingled the hair on her arms. That grating chortle spanned centuries of planning for this moment, and rang with the knowledge that his victory was at hand. “You shall offer yourself up in sacrifice and, in return, beg me to end this war.”

  Fandorn fell forward onto his hands, his cheeks dark red. Rowena beat back her panic and silently willed him to breathe.

  “Listen.” Gaelloed caressed the air, sliding his palm across the space before her. Her heart leapt into her throat. How…and when had he gotten so close? The swirling depths of his bottomless black eyes froze her feet to the floor. The cloying pressure of his nearness made her leg muscles seize. “Heed the screams of your dying kinsmen.”

  Above the remnants of the shattered roof, the dark forms of the warring Dreggs zipped past. Thuds punctuated the air as they rammed one another. Chittering shrieks and the whiplash of shredding leather buffeted her ears.

  “See.” Gaelleod passed a hand before her face a second time and the painful cries morphed, became human. Her eyes widened and terror bled into her veins as the sky filled with visions of her brothers, dying on the lances of Seviere’s vast army. Rinald with a wooden pike protruding from his chest. Eibel falling under the wicked blade of a sword.

  A wretched sob broke from her throat. Caedmon! His face was smeared with mud and sweat. Blood trickled down his forehead to his brow. He spun and jabbed, whirled and slashed. His movements were tireless, but the teeming bodies surrounded him. It was only a matter of time before he faltered and one of their blades found its mark.

  She lowered her face into her hands and squeezed her eyes tight to clear the horrifying images. Gaelleod had somehow hypnotized her, reached into her soul and plucked out her worst fears. What he showed her wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true!

  “You can save him.” The wizard’s rancid breath swept the skin beneath her ear. “Submit to me and your king will live. Concede to me the power of the key and the entirety of the Austiere Kingdom shall endure.”

  Her willpower faltered. There were no guarantees her scheme would work. If she agreed to his terms, then everyone she loved would be protected. The war would end and Caedmon would live.

  She lowered her hands from her face. But at what cost? How many worlds would pay the price for Gaelloed’s evil mongering? How many realms would be subjected to his destruction before his demands met their fill?

  Never. It would never be enough. No matter where she took him through the mirror, the riches and power he sought would be lacking. He would tear through the fabric of time and leave nothing but horror and grief in his wake.

  “I will never submit to you.” Rowena spun away from him and backed toward the armoire. “All your planning…all of your scheming and waiting…I’m here to tell you it did you no good.” A flick of her wrists and her silver blades snicked home into the center of her palms. “I would rather die than help you step one foot inside that mirror!”

  Gaelleod’s obsidian gaze widened with fear. “No!” His arms stretched an unnatural length as he reached for her with both hands. “Wait!”

  A thrust of the sharp tip against her throat and the blade retracted, puncturing the leather pouch stretched along the inside of her palm. Blood gushed through her fingers, trailed down her wrist and soaked the leather of her sleeve. Rowena choked and grabbed at her neck, fulfilling the role of her suicide.

  Gaelloed’s head fell back on his shoulders and his roar of outrage pealed throughout the room. Bolts of electricity sizzled from the tips of his fingers. Fandorn scrambled to his feet, an orb of wizard’s fire gathering strength and size at the head of his staff.

  Yes! Her distraction had broken Gaelleod’s focus. Fandorn was free.

  A streak of blue flame shot across the room. Gaelloed screamed as the wizard’s fire hit him square in the chest. Rowena dove behind the armoire door. She grabbed the outside knob and swung the hinges back as far as they allowed. Her body wedged between the side and door of the armoire, she braced inside the protective cavity of the woo
d. She scrambled to pluck the key from between her breasts and jerked.

  The chain broke at her nape, slithered from around her neck. The mirror shattered and tinkling glass sang its violent tune. Gaelleod shrieked. She clamped an arm over her head. Her memories splintered and she squeezed her eyes tight against the grating assault. Visions of her past caught in a maelstrom of shooting blue light. They swirled amid the jagged glass, merged with the wizard’s fire into a blinding white vortex. The floor rumbled and shook. The hair on her arms lifted. Pain radiated from the top of her head, but she gritted her teeth and fought to hang on.

  As each image of her world faded, she searched her mind for one from this realm. She and Caedmon in the forest, their blissful lovemaking in the Cave of Tears. Riding at his side in the wagon, her prince disguised as a roguish gypsy. These were the memories she clasped tight to her heart. In this realm and forever in his arms, was where she longed to live out her days.

  “I shall not pass into the ether!” Gaelleod’s cruel promise drilled into her skull. Tears leaked from behind her closed eyelids. “You may have prevailed, but I shall not be overcome!”

  A vast explosion bounced her ass off the floor, and she tucked her knees to her chest, sheltering her head with both arms. Glass sprinkled down from overhead, stinging her arms and hands through the splash of heavy rain. The acrid tang of burning hair wafted through her senses and she jerked upright.

  Blue embers sparked along her shoulder. She beat at them with her hand, but they refused to extinguish. Panic-stricken, she shot to her feet and raced toward a stream of water pouring in through the ceiling.

  Fandorn appeared at her side a moment later, muttered a few archaic phrases and the embers fizzled to little black holes dotting her gray leather suit. Rowena waved her hand in the air and tried to dodge the smoke, but it seemed to be trailing from the top of her head.

  She blinked, then frowned, pausing a moment to search her memories. Her time before arriving in this realm had vanished once again, as had the three days she and Caedmon traveled to the opposite side of the glass. Yet there was no sadness. And the frustration which had previously accompanied the blank gaps in her life no longer shackled her heart in its crippling weight. Perchance this was due the fact that this time, she’d made a conscious decision to sacrifice her past. Or mayhap her excitement over moving forward with Caedmon unfettered and free was the cause. Either way, she harbored no regrets. How could she when all the love and years she had yet to share with her king were foremost in her mind?

  A large black blast mark scored the floor where Gaelloed once stood. Sputtering blue flames flickered from most of the chests, while others had been reduced to nothing more than piles of ash. The altar was a mish-mash of bent metal and smoldering rubble.

  Fandorn pounded the end of his staff on the floor and the blue flames eating away at the armoire sputtered and died, though, in her opinion, his efforts came a little late. The once beautiful piece of furniture bore the evidence of its tumultuous place in history. The sides had been charred by the fire, and the rain was quickly doing its part in damaging the integrity of the wood.

  She frowned. Funny…for some strange reason its ruined appearance seemed entirely appropriate, but she couldn’t quite place her finger on why.

  “What happened?” She coughed and scowled at the continuous smoke which followed her no matter where or how she moved. “Is Gaelleod dead?”

  Fandorn approached the charred area and slowly circled the perimeter, though he gathered the ends of his robes in one hand to keep them from touching the black residue. “I know not, my lady. Indeed, the events surrounding Gaelloed’s disappearance were highly peculiar. He became engulfed in my wizard’s fire, but then seemed to initiate the addition of his own, as well, before the final concussion.” He poked the head of his staff through the charred remains occupying the center of Gaelleod’s dramatic exodus, and lifted a smoking piece of black cloth into the air. “I fear we have not seen the last of Wizard Gaelloed.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Well, he’s gone for now, and that’s all I care about.”

  “And he believes you to be dead, which was our objective.”

  “Right.” She pointed at her friend. That should thwart any further attempts Gaelloed might bring about to use the mirror. Without her, it was a useless piece of glass. A moment passed before she gasped and clamped both hands on top of her head. Caedmon! Tits of the nine, he probably believed her to be dead!

  She spun around and searched the sky, but before she could formulate her next thought, Reddeck swooped in, one very distraught, deeply scowling king dangling between his hands, and landed with a bone-jarring thump.

  Caedmon wrenched the Dreggs’ fingers from his waist and sprinted for her at full speed, gathered her in his arms and cinched her tight to his chest. “What have you done? Are you all right?” He leaned away from her and grabbed her upper arms, gave her a good hard shake and then whisked her back to his chest. “I dreaded the worst. When I spied you flying off with that damnable Dregg, I could not think for fear of what schemes you’d concocted in that infuriating head of yours. My only consideration was to locate the nearest Dregg and demand immediate conveyance to this room.”

  She chuckled into his shoulder. “You’re not angry with me?”

  “Angry?” He leaned back and kissed her cheeks, her lips, her forehead and nose. “I’m furious! I’m enraged! Tits of the nine, woman, I swear, I shall bend you over my knee and—”

  Fandorn cleared his throat. “She is a formidable sorceress, Sire.” He placed his hand on Caedmon’s shoulder, a merry twinkle in his eye. “As the king’s confidant, I caution you to guard your next words.”

  She laughed and withdrew from Caedmon’s chest, glancing between her dear friend and the man who owned her heart. “Now see, Fandorn, that’s where you’re wrong.”

  She lifted Caedmon’s hand and dropped the key into his palm, closed his fingers around the golden treasure and smiled into his eyes. She didn’t need its magic anymore. No more schemes or pretending to be something she was not. She was merely a woman, desperately in love with her king, and from now until forevermore, that was exactly who she wished to be. “The white sorceress of prophecy no longer exists. Moving forward, you may address me as Rowena Austiere.”

  “I believe our queen is right.” Caedmon smiled and smoothed a hand down the back of her head to draw her near. The supple curve of his lips tended hers with a gentle kiss. “Henceforth, let it be known. The White Sorceress died this day. She was burned alive by wizard’s fire, deep within the fortress of Castle Seviere.”

  Epilogue

  One month later…

  A soft thud tamped the blankets near her leg. Rowena frowned and rolled onto her side, tugging the covers up over her shoulder.

  Even though their marriage celebration had ended three days hence, she couldn’t seem to get enough sleep. A languid smile pressed her cheek into the pillow and she stretched her arms and legs, wiggling her toes beneath the warmth of the sheets. Of course, a good portion of her exhaustion was most likely due the fact that for those three days, Caedmon had kept her awake until all hours of the night, coaxing pleasure from her body in a way that made her skin heat and arousal sear through her veins.

  Her smile grew and she squeezed her eyes tight as joy coalesced in her heart. Or maybe her fatigue was because she carried Caedmon’s child.

  Another thud hit the blankets and she blinked, her lashes fluttering as the room came into focus. A gasp rushed her throat and she sprang to sitting, holding the blankets to her chest. A vast array of shimmering white diamonds littered the entire length of the bed, all sizes and shapes. They sprinkled the pillows and dark-blue coverlet, rolled and tumbled together with a musical clink as she glanced from side to side.

  She slowly lifted her gaze to Caedmon, leaning against the far wall of their chambers. The fading light of early winter streamed through the window, his bare chest awash in myriad colors from the stained glass,
the tasseled silk mantle he’d tied at his waist trailing down past his legs to the floor. He smiled, reached into the pack he’d carried as they left the Cave of Tears, and tossed another sparkling gem toward the bed.

  Keeping her eyes trained on him, she snagged the missile from the air and flipped her hand around, propping the glittering jewel on the tips of her fingers. “What…are you doing?”

  “I am scattering the fiery pieces of my heart at the feet of my white goddess.”

  She smiled and shook her head, then pressed the diamond to her lips for a fervent kiss. While she couldn’t recall every moment that had passed between them, those they’d shared in this realm remained embedded in her memories, and Caedmon’s beautiful reference was not lost on her.

  The story of Helios and Selene.

  A thick lock of dark hair swept his cheek as he leaned to the side and his hand disappeared into the pack a second time. His bicep bulged, and a descending tier of honeyed flesh rippled along his side as he tossed another star to the bed.

  And what a gorgeous sun god he personified.

  A mischievous smile played along his lips and she squinted. He’d planned this, ever since their time together in the Cave of Tears.

  Scooping up the diamonds lying on either side of her, she gathered the coverlet and rose. The cold slate floor sent shivers scurrying over her skin as she tiptoed across the room to bestow him a kiss. Diamonds fell from between her fingers and slid off her arms as he cupped her cheeks in his warm hands, brushing the sweet swell of his bottom lip along her mouth before dipping his tongue inside. She released the blanket and it caressed her skin to the floor. Their tongues dueled in a primal dance as she smoothed her palms along the beveled contours of his stomach, up his chest and shoulders to the back of his neck. The pointed tips of her breasts met the hard wall of his chest and she shuddered. His hair slid like silk through her fingers, and she combed through the waves again and again as he nibbled the corners of her mouth.

 

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