by M. Dalto
His red glare focused on Razen again. “The dream.”
It wasn’t a question, and the look in Razen’s matching stare was answer enough.
He must have shifted, must have changed his stance enough for even Sarayna to notice, as her grip on his arm tightened, keeping the rage at bay for just a moment longer.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
He didn’t, not yet. Not as Razen continued to hold his gaze, and Master watched them as if he was watching nothing more than an amusing play.
Everything...
Everything he was…everything he knew...
Everything was a lie.
“Why?” was all he was able to get out, afraid if he said more he’d scream, he’d roar, or he’d break down to the point where he’d be useful to no one.
Razen swallowed, and for a moment Reylor could have sworn he looked uneasy, but any doubt vanished as the smooth, ageless Councillor shrugged his strong shoulders.
“The bloodline of the Borderlands was believed to have been wiped out a century ago. I took it upon myself to reinstitute its claim...using the same blood magic that began it in the first place.”
Reylor felt his own blood go cold as Razen continued.
“Saratanya was already more than willing to share her bed with me, and already pregnant with the twins, she remained ignorant to the magic I was working on her, within her.”
Razen grinned at him, knowing the memories of Reylor’s own corrupting practices were crashing upon his psyche. The Lord Steward clenched his teeth as tightly as he clenched the fists at his side. “All courtesy of Master,” he ground out.
A simple nod from the former Councillor. “Once you were born, and I was certain you were mine, it was Master who began planting the dreams into your mind. Small at first, just enough to begin the questions and doubt, and when that mind of yours was ripe with contempt for your brother, even before you realized it, he brought forth the Empress, or at least he made you think you dreamt of the Empress.”
“Our history is rife with references and insinuations and knowledge from the Prophecy’s past—it was easy enough to make you believe you truly had the fated dream,” Master added from where he leaned against a nearby table, enjoying the story as much as Reylor despised it.
“Thus the rift between you brothers was created,” Razen said with a satisfied sigh, “but Treyan still needed to retrieve Alexstrayna to complete the cycle, so away you went.”
“I almost made him send you, Reylor, but Razen was so against it, and I wouldn’t dare forcefully part him with his child.”
Razen scowled at the admission, but Master pressed on as he pushed off from the table.
“Now you have a choice, Lord Steward,” Master interceded as he walked towards him. Reylor straightened at his approach. “You could finally have the one thing you always wanted—a true family—or you can leave it all behind, run away like you always have, and return to the miserable existence you once had, and be hunted for it in the process.”
“Neither of those seem ideal,” Reylor admitted solidly.
Master merely shrugged. “You haven’t left me with many options.”
“I suppose I will take my chances,” he replied, and slowly took a step away from the two men who had ruined everything that may have been good in his life, making sure to keep Sarayna behind him.
“Before you go anywhere, I have someone you’d like to meet.”
Reylor stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding in his chest. “Who?”
Master’s knowing grin made his stomach clench.
With a snap of his fingers, Alexstrayna suddenly appeared between them.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Every bone in Reylor’s body stilled at the sight of Alexstrayna.
His blood, his breath—everything stopped.
Alex was between them but...she wasn’t moving. She stood but her eyes were closed as though she was sleeping. Her head though...there was blood running from her temple, staining her clothes. All else looked intact, but...
“Mom!” Sarayna gasped, pushing past Reylor.
It was as though they forgot she was there by the looks on Razen’s and Master’s faces as she shouted out. But everything stopped the moment Alex screamed in pure agony.
Reylor felt his heart shatter at that sound, and even dared a step forward, ready to do whatever it took to help her.
Alex screamed louder, tears escaping down her cheeks, even as her eyes closed tighter. The look on her face was sheer agony that coursed through her still form.
“Sarayna,” he warned desperately, but the princess had already halted where she stood, the sound still ringing throughout the vaulted ceilings of the library.
“Now that I have your attention,” Master said, the sounds of the Queen Empress’ agony subsiding the moment they stopped trying to reach her.
Reylor whipped his head towards him with pure death radiating from his eyes. He would kill him for this. He no longer cared who he was and what he did to him. It was no more than a sick plan, and Alex another victim.
“I never expected to have the Golden Child in my midst,” Master said smoothly as he made his way to where Sarayna stood, still as a statue, and Reylor silently cursed her for her impulsiveness. “My child was golden once—or had the potential to be. Before I sent her to the Otherrealm.”
“I don’t care who you had or what you are,” Sara ground out through a clenched jaw. “I am not the Golden Child.”
“No?” The old mage smirked as if he was telling a joke and was about to reveal the punchline. “It’s a shame Prince Lexan isn’t here to join us—I’m sure he would have quite the story to tell. Not to mention, I’m sure it’s been some time since he’s seen his mother.”
“Prince Lexan is otherwise indisposed,” Razen announced, and Reylor swore he saw a flicker of something dark behind those eyes.
Either Razen truly didn’t know where Lexan was, or he did and was protecting him from Master’s grasp.
“Pity.” Master grinned, turning back to Sarayna. “I’m sure he’d have a lovely story to tell you and your King Emperor.”
“What about Jared?” Sarayna snapped, and Master’s grin widened.
Something was amiss.
There was something larger going on than Reylor knew, than anyone of them had known.
If Sarayna was the Golden Child...
She was the failsafe.
Reylor had to get her out of there.
“Tell me, Princess,” Master taunted as he circled Sarayna. “How is the King Emperor? Any wedding plans? Intentions for future offspring?”
Sara’s fists clenched at her side, and Reylor watched as her shoulders tensed underneath the weight of his words. Reylor had to wonder if her rejection of the wedding plans went further than her personal desire for independence.
“Or perhaps, something just doesn’t feel right.”
“Enough,” she whispered.
“Oh.” He smiled. “So you have sensed it? Interesting.”
“Master,” Razen interjected, stepping forward. “Perhaps we should finish this conversation another time.” He dared a glance at the still-unconscious Queen Empress.
“She is not going anywhere anytime soon,” Master mused. “Not when I finally have her exactly where she belongs.”
“What are you going to do to her?” Reylor finally asked, finding his voice.
“Nothing to concern yourself with just yet.”
“If anything happens to her—” the Lord Steward started, but another scream from Alex’s mouth stopped him.
“You’ll do what?” Master snarled. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing, if you want the chance of her surviving through what I have planned for her”
“Master,” Razen warned, but Master turned towards his acolyte, his gaze unwavering.
“I believe it is time to see what the Empress has waiting for you back at the palace, Razen.”
Reylor started at that, his gaze darting between them and the im
mobile Empress.
“Oh, my mistake,” Master said with a chuckle. “Wrong Empress.”
“Master—”
“Go home, Lord Steward,” Master said to Reylor, ignoring Razen’s plea. “Go home and save your Crown Prince.” A devilish smile. “If you can get there before Razen does.”
As if on cue, as if he forgot his earlier protests, Razen disappeared in a flicker, there one moment and gone another. As if he had his own personal Key.
“Rhaid,” Reylor whispered, and he knew their time was limited.
Master was letting them go, but with a purpose.
If they delayed, they wouldn’t get another chance.
Alex was there—and any movement they made towards her instilled more pain, for all of them.
If Sarayna was truly the Golden Child, her presence here threatened her the longer they stayed.
With only a split second to consider their options, Reylor knew what had to be done.
He knew those decisions were made under the ever-watchful eye of Master. The man who was once his mentor—maybe even his friend—who was suddenly his most bitter, hated enemy.
He wouldn’t allow it to happen to anyone again.
He looked to Alex, where she hung as though suspended in time and space, silently promising to her that he would be back. He would be back, and he would save her.
His eyes returned to his mother’s body, laying in its cooling pool of blood, and he whispered a prayer for her spirit, wherever it was—that maybe she would one day find the peace and happiness she truly deserved.
He would mourn later.
Time was currently of the essence.
Lunging for Sarayna, he all but hoisted her onto his back, leaning her against his side as he practically carried her towards the back of the library. Away from the doors he destroyed and the waiting Master, whose red eyes watched his every move.
No, instead he led them towards the back of the library, and the waiting windows that showed him how dark it was growing—how much time they had wasted.
“I believe the door is the other way,” Master taunted from where he stood at the Empress’ side, but Reylor ignored him. Running ever faster away from the guards that he knew must be waiting for them by now if they left the way they came in.
No, the only way out for them would be through the windows and down the two stories into the courtyard below.
“Reylor,” Sarayna whispered in warning, but he kept moving at full speed towards the windows.
“Trust me,” he murmured as they approached, and with an outstretched hand he propelled every ounce of power he still had within him towards the glass, the wood, and all of it exploded outwards.
With his arm wrapped tight around her waist, he warned her, “Stay close,” and then leapt from the shattered window.
Chapter Fifty
Sarayna felt like she was flying.
For a split second, she felt weightless, careless and free.
The ground came up to meet her hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs, and a snap sent pain shooting up her left leg.
She rolled, feeling the debris of glass and wood penetrate through the leather of her jacket, her pants, cutting at the exposed skin of her face and neck, her hands.
Strong arms wrapped around her, hoisting her back to her feet and forcing her to run.
She gritted her teeth each time she put weight on her left ankle, but even as the tears stung her eyes, she knew they had to keep running. The shouts that erupted behind them as they made their escape from the castle exemplified that tenfold.
She dared a glance at the Lord Steward sprinting at her side only once—the look almost caused her to fly face-first over a root sticking out of the ground. That look was enough to show her the fear, worry and terror behind those glowing red eyes, his face as cut and bloodied as hers.
Still, they ran.
It was past dusk by the time they reached the tree line, and even though racing through the overgrowth would be dangerous at their current speed, they did not slow. At the pace Reylor maintained, Sarayna knew.
To slow their pace meant death.
Even with her injured ankle, she used every ounce of energy left to keep up, to make it through the dark, dense wooded area to their salvation. Just when she thought her legs would give out, that she wouldn’t be able to inhale breath fast enough to keep moving, the trees parted, and their horses appeared.
All three of them.
Neither of them touched Saratanya’s horse—whether out of respect for the dead or due to their time constraint, Sara wasn’t certain. She was more concerned with getting into her own saddle without collapsing over the other side, and when she was finally able to steady herself, she kicked her horse into a gallop, following Reylor as he began to move away from the tree line, away from the Borderlands.
The ride to the cabin was a blur, but they rode like the wind without anyone following. At least not that they knew of. The cabin—it was like a beacon of hope in the darkest of nights, and she couldn’t rein in fast enough, tie her horse quick enough before she made her way into the cabin. Even Reylor couldn’t hold her back, though he instructed her to have caution in case of the unknown.
She wanted to see Jared.
She needed to make sure he was safe.
After everything else—she couldn’t lose him too.
She burst through the door of the cabin, and both men were on their feet, facing the door, with looks of absolute surprise as she barged in, as if she was interrupting something.
Sara only hesitated for a moment, was about to comment on the uneasy tension she suddenly felt upon her arrival, when Jared hurried to her, embraced her, and she allowed all unease to wash away as they held each other.
“You’re okay,” he whispered against her ear.
“I am,” she said just as quietly, gripping his shirt with her fingers. He was here. He was safe.
Reylor walked through the door a moment later, and only then did Lexan move towards them. “Do you have it?”
“No,” the Lord Steward said sternly. “There were complications...ones that would have been ideal to have known about.”
“What are you talking about?” Lexan pressed, looking between the two of them, and Sarayna stepped away from Jared to confront her brother.
“A man...someone else was there with Razen.”
“Master is his name,” Reylor said quietly, as if he was afraid saying his name too loud would summon him to the cabin. “He has your mother.”
Lexan’s eyes widened. “Why the hell are you here?”
“Staying would have been the end of her, and us.”
Lexan shook his head, realization dawning in his eyes. “No...if this Master is who I think he is, they won’t harm her. He’s been waiting for her for two thousand years.”
“Who?” Reylor pressed, but it was Jared who chimed in.
“Where’s Saratanya?”
A hush fell over them, and Sarayna couldn’t look at him, couldn’t look at anyone.
“She didn’t make it out,” Reylor announced sadly. “Master was waiting for her.”
Sara could still see that arrow protruding from her chest, the puddle of blood.
“I still don’t understand why we’re here, then, if they have Alexstrayna—” Lexan snapped.
“Because Sarayna is the Golden Child.”
Lexan stilled at Reylor’s admission, and his eyes met his sister’s. Panic radiated in those eyes so similar to her own. “They told you?”
“Told me what?” Sarayna inquired, utterly confused.
“We have to go,” Lexan announced, completely and utterly countering everything he was just standing for. He began moving around the cabin, gathering whatever supplies he could...as if wherever they went, he was coming with them.
“We’ll go back to the Empire,” Sarayna insisted.
“Which is exactly where they expect you to return,” Reylor corrected her.
“Then we will stay right here,
and we’ll be ready for them if they try anything.”
“No,” Lexan said firmly, whirling to look at her. “We will die if we stay here. You, Sara, will die if you stay here. Both sides will converge on us and they will not stop now that we know you’re the salvation.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Sara pleaded, looking to her brother, Reylor—anyone who would give her an answer. Lexan went back to gathering supplies, and Reylor kept his eyes on Lexan as if he could sense something was amiss. Something he wasn’t telling any of them.
“Where can we go?” he finally asked his son.
“We have to go to the Otherreaalm.”
“Treyan is at the palace,” Sarayna reminded them. “Exactly where Razen and Crystal are headed if they’re not there already. We can’t leave him there alone—”
“Treyan was born for this,” Reylor said sternly, his eyes still on Lexan as he processed the information. “You have a Key?”
Lexan nodded to his pack where it sat safely in the darkest corner of the cabin. “With Crystal gone, I didn’t take anything to chance.”
“You are ready to leave her? Leave everything behind? Just like that?”
Lexan stopped at that, a glance between his father, his sister, and Jared next to her.
“We are not leaving anything behind,” Lexan corrected Reylor. “Unless you’re just as ready to leave Alex. Or Treyan.”
Reylor’s lips pursed as Sara’s brother finished what he was doing and brought all their supplies, everything he believed they would need for this journey to the small table at the center of the cabin.
“Believe me when I say I knew it would come to this,” he said quietly, and he reached into his pack to retrieve first a book as intricate as the Annals, and then a small glass orb with a center of green power. Reylor’s breath caught as he watched him, and Sarayna’s eyes grew wide.
He really did have a Key.
With a knowing smirk, Lexan flexed his shoulders and arched his neck from side to side as if he was preparing for some laborious task. Finally, his gaze fell on Jared where he stood next to Sarayna, and that smirk turned into an outright grin.