by AJ Nuest
“ʼTis nearly Apex.” The queen resumed her grip on Faedrah’s hand. “Two days hence.”
What? She bolted upright the same distance three sets of arms reached out and pressed her back into the pillows. Two days she’d been lost to her slumber? She batted the hands away and quickly took stock of her surroundings. Impossible!
Several discarded trays of food littered her mother’s dressing table, the end tables and floor. Blankets hung crumpled over the arms of two leather chairs and lay spread as a makeshift sleeping pallet before the hearth.
She lowered her head and stared at the white lace cuffs of her sleeping gown, hanging limp and wrinkled off each of her wrists. Her jaw firmed. How dare he? Anger swirled to a hot maelstrom in her chest and, with it, her fingers curled into two rigid fists in the air. What manner of arrogant beast presumed he could reach through the ether of her dreams and steal the very fabric of her life?
“Who is he?” She lifted her gaze and stared hard at her mother and father in turn. If they had been honest with her from the beginning, she would’ve been prepared for the dangers she faced. All this time, ʼtwas more than her vivid imagination haunting the wanderings of her dreams. “This Gaelleod you spoke of. Is he not a soulless creature, robed in black, his eyes bottomless pools which spiral into the very pits of hell?”
Her mother gasped at the same moment Fandorn abruptly sat forward. “What do you know of such wickedness, child? Speak clearly now and with an apt tongue. The days of secrecy are behind us.”
The wizard brought forth a valid point, and had seen through her frustration to the crux of the matter…something he did with irritating regularity. Her parents’ did not bear the fault of these circumstances alone. She had kept silent as well, when candor would have been the more prudent choice. “The black wizard you spoke of haunts me in my dreams.”
Her father strode forward and lowered to the bed, grasping her upper arms to commence a detailed study of her face. “Goddesses wept, Faedrah.” The profound anguish in his chocolate gaze wrenched her heart, so filled with sorrow…and a direct reflection of the same eyes which stared back at her whenever she chanced by a mirrored glass. “Why did you not bring us this news? For how long have you endured this ordeal?”
How long, indeed? She’d lost count of the endless interludes filled with the dark lord’s pitiless cruelty. What had started as the occasional descent into wrestling his invasion of her slumber, had increased to a nightly sojourn of murderous intent. “They’ve multiplied in frequency since the dawn of the new year.”
Her father whisked her close and enveloped her in his arms, cradling the back of her head in his calloused palm. “Nearly three cycles of the moon.” His tortured whisper rumbled into the cavern of her chest. She turned her cheek to the soft cotton of his shirt, the musky scent of his skin, the protective nurturing of his strong embrace a comfort to ease the recollection of her suffering.
“And the exact correspondence to when the first whisperings of the black infestation began,” Fandorn muttered.
Faedrah withdrew from her father, though the reluctant loosening of his arms bespoke his unwillingness to release her.
He brushed the hair back from her brow and placed a light kiss in her forehead. “Why has this happened, Fandorn?”
“I cannot state with certainty until she recounts the full details of her dreams.” The wizard tapped his index finger against his lips. “Tell us, child. What occurs in your chambers between the tolling of the setting bell and daybreak?”
Faedrah glanced toward her mother and received a nod of encouragement before she closed her eyes, delaying a moment to submerse herself in the grim images of her nightmares. “I am in a house filled with many doors, all of them different.” A chill tingled through the hair on her arms as the confusing maze of corridors swam into focus. “Only one leads to freedom, behind which awaits the armoire, and yet, despite the urgency of my search, I cannot locate the correct one. Light is strung along the walls, glowing glass orbs which contain no flame. The air carries a metallic taint. I wear the key and the taunting of the black wizard pursues me. No matter my course, I cannot hide from the scope of his all-seeing eye.”
She blinked and scanned the horrified alarm etched into the faces of her family. Yet the worst was still to come, and she gathered her resolve to deliver the last of her warnings. “ʼTwas the same two days past, at breakfast. Except his promise that I would never evade his clutches came to me whilst Helios hung bright in the sky. And, instead of plunging his jagged knife into my chest, he reached through the ether of my dreams and stole the breath from my lungs.”
A long moment of silence wound through the brittle anxiety pervading the room.
“He’s broken through to her waking hours.” Her mother dropped her focus to the bed. She shook her head and a tear tumbled from her cheek to splatter the dark-blue coverlet. “Dammit, Caedmon. His strength grows even as we sit here unable to provide our daughter shelter from his wrath.”
He sprang to his feet and Faedrah carefully studied the rigid set of her father’s shoulders, the way his hands had balled into two hard fists at his sides. Once, mayhap twice, in all her days at the castle had she witnessed such profound panic overtake him. Who was this creature which delivered her parents to the brink of dread?
“We must redouble our efforts to uncover the source of the black plague invading the forest.” He crossed his arms and aimed a dangerous glare at Fandorn. “Perchance once the disease is eliminated, Faedrah’s affliction will cease.”
“Indeed.” Fandorn sat back in his chair, yet the calculating scrutiny of his gray gaze remained embedded on her. She nervously ran her palm down the back of her hair. He’d studied her with such intensity before, and the perceptive glint in his eyes always left her fully unsettled.
“Yet we must not discount the obvious, Majesty.” He shifted his attention to the king. “Shall I tell her or do you prefer the honor?”
Faedrah darted her focus about the chamber. The way her mother and father read the measure of one another’s thoughts from across the bed…the flush of embarrassment which reddened Vaighn’s neck… Something more untoward than her nightly visitation of a nameless phantom was at play.
“I ask again.” She held her tongue until each person in the room returned their attention to her. “Who is he?”
Her father’s shoulders fell. He mumbled what seemed a string of obscenities before Vaighn held his palm in the air. “Please, Uncle. Allow me.” He swiveled toward Faedrah and raked his fingers through his wavy hair. “Twenty cycles of the seasons ago, before the king and queen were blessed with the joy of your birth, Wizard Gaelleod attended the court of King Seviere. Yet the red king was deceived by his servant, as were many others, most notably my father, Prince Braedric. ʼTwas with my father’s aid, Gaelleod was given access to capture and torture our dear king for two unrelenting years.”
Faedrah glanced at the misery pleating her father’s dark brow. Her parents had never recounted the finer points surrounding his captivity. Whenever she’d asked, the details were vague at best. She’d assumed his aversion to discussing the insufferable span he’d languished in Seviere’s dungeons had been due his reluctance to relive the past. Not wanting to cause him further anguish, she had kept her queries at bay.
No wonder the slightest mention of Seviere’s vile wizard had cast him into a tailspin. Better than any other, he understood the menace which arose from Gaelleod’s unholy grave.
Her father’s palm landed on Vaighn’s shoulder and his fingertips whitened with a firm squeeze. “The agony I endured was not by your hand, Vaighn. To this day, I regret you carry the load of such a terrible burden.”
Vaighn nodded, but kept his attention solely affixed on Faedrah. Unspent tears transformed his eyes into glittering amber pools, and her heart rebelled at the evidence he still bore the responsibility of that heavy strain. “The war fought during the Night of Silver Knives did not merely expose Braedric Austiere’s deception, Poppet
. Nor did it singly denote your father’s ascent to the throne. Due the bravery of your mother and with Fandorn’s aid, the two of them ensured the battle also initiated an end to Gaelleod’s reign.”
The outcome of that legendary conflict comprised the totality of Faedrah’s world. Moreover, the bravery her mother and father had demonstrated in declaring Prince Braedric a traitor defined the very yoke of inadequacy she wore around her neck. In reigning victorious, no other soul in the kingdom had so fiercely established their allegiance to the throne. Yet neither the king nor the queen had ever mentioned the involvement of Seviere’s black wizard…or the courage her mother had displayed in banishing him from their realm.
“Or so we had longed to believe.” The queen placed her hand atop the king’s, covering Vaighn’s shoulder in a show of solidarity. “Gaelleod vanished from sight before we could confirm his undoing. This harbinger of his rising is a danger we prayed none of our heirs would ever face.”
Faedrah’s eyes fell closed as she collapsed against the pillows. In remaining silent, her parents had hoped to shutter her from danger. They had hidden away the pain and determined she live free of their fate. Over time, with no sign of the dark lord’s return, they had assumed their initial assessment the best for her welfare. So much, they had commanded the entire court bide their tongues on her behalf.
How could she blame them their decisions? To do as much would display the very height of rudeness and disrespect. She shuddered as the baleful echo of Gaelleod’s evil threats whispered across the province of her mind.
Regardless, this villain from their past had found her. He’d re-emerged from the realm of the undead to threaten the one thing they held dear above all else…and the one who bore the future of their kingdom upon her back.
And yet, one question remained.
How had he done it?
Through what link had the black wizard stretched his sharpened claws to ensure she be the recipient of his affections? What connection did they share? Other than in her dreams, she’d not once been granted access to the key. So how had he determined her place in Austiere history?
She opened her eyes and pinned her parents with a determined scowl. “What are you not telling me?”
Alarm nipped at the heels of her query as her father’s cheeks flooded a deep red. “Sweet tits of the nine!” He spun on her mother. “She is so like you, betimes I wonder if she inherited a portion of my traits at all.”
The queen lowered her chin, but the subtle movement did not disguise her soft chuckle. “Rest assured, our daughter has your penchant for worry, my king.”
Fandorn stood and strode toward the armoire, its forbidding presence guarding their conversation like a silent sentry from across the room. “Gaelleod’s violation of the princess’ thoughts is troubling, to be sure. Perchance her connection to the armoire plays a role. The clues hidden within the framework of her dreams. Did you not recognize them, Majesty?”
“Aye.” Her father nodded. “The light with no flame, the metallic taint in the air…” He locked his dark-brown gaze on to hers. “Each night, Faedrah is transported to the future.”
Her jaw dropped. Shock blanked her mind as the meaning behind her father’s words scuttled home. To the future? How was such a thing even a possibility?
“But I hold no connection to my mother’s realm.” Faedrah opened her hands over the bed as if they could somehow provide the answer. “Not once have I traversed through the veil.”
“Oh, but you have, Faedrah.” Her mother smiled softly at the king from her spot on Faedrah’s left. “You were conceived in the future, my heart.”
Every particle in the room froze.
The next instant, a seething inferno rushed Faedrah’s veins, raging across her skin, so banked by flames of embarrassment and awareness and the vibrancy of long-lost recognition, she tossed the covers from her legs and leapt from the bed.
No wonder she’d been persistently drawn to the armoire. Closing her eyes, she doubled over at the waist, gathered the folds of her sleeping gown and clasped them near her stomach. A hand grasped her shoulder and she shrugged it from her body.
How often had she questioned her sanity? While standing before the doors, on how many occasions had she denied the painful splintering of her soul? Blessed tears of the nine, the seasons had she wasted, trying to convince herself the emptiness was caused by some deficiency in her personality. She’d been born less than what was expected by all those within the realm.
Fighting back the surge of bile her empty stomach propelled up the lining of her throat, she squeezed her eyes tight and groaned. And how many days had she been ushered from the armoire’s presence, confused and afraid, wondering in what parcel of her heart the fault lay, the steps she could take to mend it?
Well, no more.
Setting her jaw, she slowly straightened, releasing the folds of her sleeping gown to the floor. No longer would she languish in self-doubt. The time had come to cast her uncertainties behind her.
She opened her eyes to the guarded expectancy awash on each face in the chamber. From this moment henceforth, she would collect the tattered strings of her destiny and weave her own fate. And if that vile bastard awaited her in the future, she would chase him from her dreams and thrust him back into the dank pit from whence he’d crawled!
“As soon as I am able, I travel through the veil.”
The room erupted into chaos. Her mother and Vaighn sprang to their feet. Shouts of denial echoed off the ceiling and walls, the loudest of which barreled from her father.
“You shall do no such thing!” The thunder of his approach initiated the urge to shrink back, but Faedrah held firm, lifting her chin in defiance. “As your father, I forbid it. As your king, I command you remain in this realm.”
“The risks are too great, Faedrah.” Her mother came forward and clasped Faedrah’s hands. “We have no idea what awaits you on the other side.”
Oh, they understood exactly what evil loomed opposite the mirror. And so did she. “I am tired of running from him, Mother. Did you not state just two days past my time would soon come? None of us can deny our place in history. Not even me.”
“I will not allow this to happen.” The king aimed a hard finger at the floor. “If needs be, I shall detain her under lock and key.”
Faedrah’s heart shattered. A sharp pain arrowed into her chest. Did her father not see the outcome of his decision? Condemning her to a ceaseless string of nights filled with fear?
A caustic retort settled upon her tongue, yet she bit down hard against unleashing her anger. Sarcasm would only enrage him further, and prove she was exactly the impetuous child they claimed her to be.
“The princess does present a compelling argument, Sire.” Fandorn turned from his musings before the armoire and hope leapt warm and alive through her veins. At last, someone in her family spoke reason. Who, besides her, bore the cost of Gaelleod’s evil promises? Who among them but her would recognize the details of his lair? “Yet the perils of traveling through the veil unattended are indeed problematic. Perchance a more detailed examination of the forest is warranted before we outright dismiss the princess’ petition.”
“I could traverse with her.” Vaighn stepped forward and Faedrah nearly collapsed to her knees in thanks. If not in her sleeping attire, she would have leapt into his arms and tossed her arms around his neck. “On my honor, Uncle. I shall die before allowing any harm to come to your daughter.”
Not one doubt remained that he would. To atone for the transgressions of his father, Vaighn would be the first to fall upon a sword in her defense.
“Unfortunately, your loyalty to Princess Faedrah is not the issue, my boy.” Fandorn plucked his long wooden staff from where it leaned against the side of the mantel and rested the bottom end near his right foot. “Regardless of your honor, the mirror will not allow your safe passage.”
Faedrah’s hope sputtered and died. Now what dismal revelations had the wizard in store?
 
; “Only those hearts bonded in love may be granted entry, as I’m certain the king and queen remember all too well. While I’ve no qualms you share a strong attachment to your cousin, the two of you have not pledged a vow of love. Unless…” He aimed a bushy eyebrow first at Faedrah, then at Vaighn.
“Oh no! No, no!” She and Vaighn spoke over each other in adamant refusal. Goddesses wept, that was the last complication she needed. Faedrah slapped a palm to her forehead, rolling her eyes.
“Very well, then.” Fandorn faced the king and queen. “With your majesties’ permission, I shall endeavor to search out Denmar and request he gather a squadron of his best guards to ride for the trees.”
“Yes, quite right, and the queen and I shall accompany you.” Her father aimed a sharp finger at Vaighn. “You…” He shifted the imposing digit in her direction. “Watch her.” With a glance between them, he jerked his head toward the door and followed her mother and Fandorn from the room.
Faedrah slumped as the door slammed behind them. So that was it, then? They were leaving her to rot like some useless moppet unfit to clear the dirt from her face?
“I think I shall see about ordering us up a light meal.” Vaighn started after them, his steps unhurried, hands clasped behind his back, and she squinted at the masquerade of his casual demeanor. If anything, he should’ve been fuming. He’d been assigned nursemaid duty when a good chance existed he would have preferred to ride out with the guard.
“I was not yet given the opportunity to relay my verdict of our sparring session.” He stopped before her and a mischievous smile twitched one corner of his lips. “I am advancing your training to the Gantlet. Given the extent of my injuries, you are ready.”
A breath lodged in her throat. That he would admit such confidence in her abilities the same moment her choices had been ripped from her grasp meant…everything.
The wave of gratitude which crescendoed through her heart threatened to capsize in a loud whoop! She nodded, lowering her chin in a show of respect.