The Rise of the Dawnstar

by Farah Oomerbhoy

  Rafe grimaced at this. “No, probably not.”

  Brandon looked at me and smiled. “No offense, Your Highness.”

  “None taken.” But I was sure I was blushing. “Please call me Aurora.” I peeked at Rafe from the corner of my eye. I hated being reminded of Leticia, and it was a quick jolt back into reality. For nearly two weeks, I had had Rafe all to myself and become comfortable around him, secure in the knowledge that he was there. But one day he would leave me, return to his fiancée, and marry her.

  “How did you know who I was?” I asked Brandon.

  “My spies know what information is significant. They keep me apprised about everything that happens in the capital. I received a raven last night with news from the palace. The council has called for your arrest, Aurora. They are saying you have gone rogue and abducted the crown prince.”

  “Abducted! Who?” I turned to look at Rafe and burst out laughing. “The royal council of Eldoren has gone mad.”

  Brandon smiled at my reaction, but Rafe did not look amused.

  “And what does Silverthorne have to say about this?” Rafe crossed his arms. “I’m sure my father would not listen to the nonsense ramblings of some insignificant nobles.”

  “Silverthorne has tried to pacify them, but they will not listen,” said Brandon. “There is talk that the Blackwaters have returned to Neris and been given a full pardon by the king. They are the ones out for her blood, and have convinced all the nobles and the king that Aurora is a threat to the whole kingdom.”

  “How is it possible? The council must know I could never hold Rafe against his will.” But an uneasy feeling had settled in my gut. What if what Brandon said was true?

  “They have a witness who says you had help.” Brandon rubbed the nape of his neck. “They are saying the Black Wolf colluded with you to bring down the monarchy. And the fae are involved in this conspiracy.” He shot a glance at Kalen, who was standing quietly behind me, listening.

  “Even if the Blackwaters are back,” said Rafe, “there is no way my father would pardon them after what they did, and he certainly would not listen to them over the word of the Duke of Silverthorne.”

  “But he has pardoned them, and he is listening,” said Brandon. “What’s more unnerving is that many of the nobles are supporting the Blackwaters and not Silverthorne.”

  “This is absolutely absurd.” I waved my hands in the air. “Do you actually believe the Blackwaters?”

  “At first I was not sure what to believe. But after seeing the two of you together, I can see that it is not the case.” He gestured to the cozy seating arrangement near the library windows. “Come and sit. We can talk freely here. I am curious to know what you are up to, Rafael.”

  I shot Rafe a worried glance, and he reassured me with a smile. This eerie castle gave me a bad feeling. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I wished we hadn’t come here. I was not completely convinced Lord Delacourt was on our side. Although Rafe knew Brandon, and he had saved us from being recognized by the whole town, I still didn’t trust him. What exactly did he want with us?

  3

  Fugitive

  I settled myself on a comfortable chair with Rafe and Kalen seated beside me. Brandon poured all of us goblets of gold liquid from a crystal pitcher he had on the table, and sat down on the opposite chair. Rafe took his drink with a grateful smile and downed the contents in a few gulps.

  “What is this?” I asked when Brandon offered a goblet to me.

  “Fireberry whiskey, from the best whiskey makers in the Andrysian Highlands,” answered Brandon, looking very proud of his acquisition. “I just returned from there and brought these barrels with me.”

  I shook my head and put down the goblet. “Sorry, I don’t drink.” I needed my wits about me at all times now. And I had read somewhere that alcohol could affect your magic.

  “As you wish,” said Brandon, sipping his drink. “What exactly are you doing here? And how can I help?”

  “We need to get to the library of the Emir of Sanria,” said Rafe.

  Brandon’s eyes went wide. “Roderigo Valasis’s library?”

  Rafe nodded.

  “But he is the most powerful of all five Emirs on the Brandorian council,” said Brandon. “You know the protocol, Rafael, you can’t go into his fortress without an invitation.”

  “I know,” said Rafe. “But there is information we need that can only be found there. We have to find a way to get in.”

  “What kind of information are you looking for?”

  Rafe leaned back in his chair. “That I cannot reveal.” He sneaked a quick glance at me. “It is a personal matter.”

  “I understand,” said Brandon. “But do you not think it is better to go back to the palace and let everyone know you have not been abducted? Maybe then your father will call off the hunt.”

  Rafe shook his head. “Most of the council lords have been against Aurora from the beginning. And if the Blackwaters are back on the council, the most we can hope for is a trial.” He looked at me, and his eyes softened. “If we go back, Aurora will get put in the palace dungeons. I cannot vouch for her safety down there. I would not be allowed to see her. If she uses her powers against them, even to defend herself, things could get worse—they would condemn her immediately. The best course is to get her out of Eldoren. Once I get her to safety, I will go back and sort this out with the council and my father.”

  “I don’t agree,” said Brandon. “If you don’t go back now, there is no telling what the Blackwaters could do.”

  “I can’t leave Aurora to fend for herself, she’s not ready.”

  “I will take her to Brandor and protect her with my life—you have my word, Rafael,” Brandon said, glancing at me. “You must return to the palace. Without you the Ravenswood dynasty will fall.”

  “No.” Rafe shook his head. “Silverthorne will have to deal with the Blackwaters until I get back. I will see Aurora to safety myself.”

  “Maybe we should go back, Rafe,” I said, finally interrupting. “We could explain everything to the king, and I can go to Elfi with my granduncle as originally planned.” I looked down at my hands. I didn’t want to be hunted like a criminal. Now I would be running from Morgana as well as the whole Eldorean Guard. What had I done? All I wanted was to get my mother back, and I had made things worse again. I may not always make the best decisions, but I do so with the best intentions.

  Rafe leaned forward and put his hand over mine. “I don’t think that is the wisest course, Aurora. I didn’t want to alarm you earlier and neither did your granduncle, but . . .” He paused and looked at Kalen. “Kalen, tell her what you saw outside the palace.”

  Kalen straightened. Hesitating a little, he turned to me. “I didn’t tell you this because my mother would hardly let me see you when you were recovering after your battle with Morgana and the Shadow Guard. And later your granduncle asked me to keep it to myself until you left for Elfi.”

  My heartbeat quickened. “What is it, Kalen?”

  “There is unrest in Eldoren among the people. After we brought you back from the battle with Morgana and the Shadow Guard, the people of Neris had gathered outside the palace, protesting and urging the king to send you back to Illiador, to Morgana.”

  “But why?” This was unbelievable! “I defeated the Shadow Guard. I thought everyone hated and feared them?”

  “They did, until you defeated them.” Kalen got up to pace in front of me. “But now it is you they fear. Anyone powerful enough to wipe out most of Morgana’s Shadow Guard is a terrible threat if they go dark.”

  “But I’m not going dark,” I said, standing up. “I never will.”

  Rafe held my hand and pulled me back down. “We know.” He clasped my hand between his and looked at me intently. “But they do not. You have to understand that the common people do not understand our magic.”

  “But Vivienne said they were calling me Avalonia’s savior,” I insisted, trying to think back to my last conversation
with my best friend.

  “In elitist circles, yes,” said Brandon, “but only a few mage families think like that. Most have been taught to fear fae-mages, and for good reason.”

  I remembered the stories the mastermage of Evolon had told me about some of the fae-mages before me turning to dark magic because of the power it gave them. But I never thought they would think it of me.

  “Some of the nobility, and also the Mage Guild, feel the king should make a deal with Morgana to hand you over to her in return for her not invading Eldoren,” said Rafe.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” I was disappointed he felt fit to keep secrets from me.

  “I didn’t want to upset you,” said Rafe. “But now that you know everything, you can understand why it is better not to go back. We will go to Brandor, and then south to Elfi to your grandmother Izadora. I will send word to your granduncle as to where we are.”

  “Shouldn’t we go straight to Elfi if they are hunting us?”

  “It’s not possible to take that route,” Kalen answered. “The seas around Elfi are protected with powerful magic and ancient creatures which live in its depths. No ship can sail through those waters. The only way to enter Elfi is through Brandor and the Gandren Pass in the Wildflower Mountains.”

  “Yes,” Rafe agreed. “Kalen is absolutely right. Your grandmother’s magic protects Elfi from the world. That is the only place you will be safe from Morgana while you learn to master your powers. As long as Izadora remains in Elfi, no army will ever enter the fae kingdom. Since we need to go through Brandor anyway, we will get the information we need from the Valasis Library on our way to Elfi.”

  I nodded. Everything he said made sense. Rafe knew how important it was to me to get that information from Constantine Redgrave, otherwise I would have no hope of finding the Dark Dagger and releasing my mother. The new circumstances made getting to the Dagger more difficult than before. Now that I had a chance to think about it properly, I realized Uncle Gabriel’s plan to have me go to Elfi was, in fact, well thought out and for my own good.

  I had finally accepted I wasn’t going to be able to get my mother back yet, although that didn’t stop me from feeling guilty every time I thought about her. Knowing she had sacrificed herself to save me felt like a huge burden I had to repay. But getting myself killed before I gave myself a fighting chance was stupidity.

  Brandon stood up. “I’m not sure exactly what you are up to, but I would still like to help. You have come at just the right time. I was about to leave for Calos tomorrow to attend my cousin’s wedding. Santino Valasis will be there; he can get you to Brandor and into the Emir’s fortress without anyone asking questions.”

  “Santino Valasis.” Rafe raised an eyebrow. “The son of the Emir of Sanria?”

  “The very same,” Brandon nodded. “I know him well, and I can ask him to help us.”

  Rafe poured himself more Fireberry whiskey, took a swig, and sat down. “Then we will accompany you to Calos, and you can introduce us to Santino.”

  “But how do you know he will help us? What if he turns us in?” I asked.

  Brandon laughed, filling up his goblet as well. “You don’t have to worry. Santino Valasis is a notorious privateer and trader. If he thinks the cargo is valuable enough, he will take you to the Sea of Shadows if you wish it.”

  “But if he is the son of an Emir of Brandor, why would he help me?” I was not convinced about the likelihood of receiving aid from a stranger.

  “I have heard of Santino,” said Rafe. “He is known as the Pirate Prince, and even the most cutthroat pirates stay far away from him. But I have also heard he is a fair man, and the other Emirs fear him. It might not be such a bad thing having him on our side.”

  Brandon nodded. “Rafe is right. Santino is a deadly fighter and a shrewd man. He is the reason his father holds most of the power in Brandor. Santino is notorious for having an army of mercenaries and pirates loyal only to him, and the port city of Sanria is completely under his control.”

  “What about Marcus?” I voiced my other concern.

  Brandon’s face hardened. “What about him?”

  “Why have you locked him up?” asked Rafe. “You and I both know that he did not commit those murders. He may be a spy and a profiteer, but he is not a killer.”

  Brandon rubbed his chin. “He is a cheat,” he said finally. “He sold me a magical item that didn’t work and then disappeared. That was a few years ago, and I swore if he ever came back I would not spare him. I heard he was in town and I came to apprehend him myself.” He paused and looked at me strangely. “Looks like I got more than I bargained for.”

  “So, if he agreed to give you your money back, would you let him go?” Rafe inquired.

  “Perhaps,” Brandon answered. “But he may know something about the killings. He is a spy, after all. Why are you so interested in him?”

  “Let me talk to Marcus.” Rafe put down his goblet and got up from the chair.

  “I will send for him.” Brandon went over to the door and spoke to the guard standing outside. In a few minutes, Marcus Gold was brought into the room.

  Brandon waved his hand. “Leave us.”

  The guard promptly bowed and scurried out.

  Rafe stood beside Brandon. “Marcus, if you cooperate with Lord Delacourt we can clear this up immediately.”

  “So, Mr. Gold,” Brandon began. “It looks like this is your lucky day, since the prince has use of you. I am prepared to let you go on one condition.”

  “Which is?” said the smaller man, crossing his arms and looking Brandon straight in the eye.

  “The object I bought from you so many years ago didn’t work.” Brandon clasped his hands behind his back as he circled Marcus. “You will get me one that does. And this time I am coming with you.” He stopped in front of his prisoner.

  “The object you seek can only be found among the witch tribes of Rohron,” said Marcus. “But I cannot guarantee it will work. It depends on the power of the witch who made it.”

  “What is it you are after, Brandon?” said Rafe, looking perturbed at where this conversation was going. “The magic of the witches of Rohron is unpredictable and rooted in dark power. I would advise against seeking out any of their magical objects.”

  “It is an object that will let me speak with my dead sister,” Brandon elaborated. “It is the only way I can say goodbye.”

  Rafe was silent, and so was Marcus. Brandon looked so forlorn and I felt bad for him. I went up to him and patted his back. “If there is such an object, I’m sure Marcus can find it.” My thoughts whirled with the prospect. Maybe I could speak to my father as well? But first they had to find it, and I had other problems on my plate.

  Marcus nodded. “I know where we can get one, but it won’t be easy. We will have to go through Brandor—the Illiadorian border is now closed.”

  Brandon thought for a moment. “We can travel together to Brandor with you,” he said to Rafe. “Then Marcus and I can go on to Rohron from there.”

  “It’s settled then.” Rafe concluded the conversation. “Tomorrow we leave for Calos and you can introduce us to Santino. I hope he is willing to help us.”

  The steward of the castle came in to announce dinner was served. Marcus declined the invitation, and since Brandon had agreed to release him from the dungeons, he sent for guards to escort him to a guest room.

  Brandon gave me his arm to lead me to dinner, and I took it, not wanting to be rude to our host. He had been hospitable, and it was good of him to warn us about what was happening in Neris. But I did think it was quite the coincidence he was traveling to Calos at around the same time we were. I shook my head as if to shake off the silly thoughts that entered. Coincidences happened all the time, but my intuition kept telling me I was not wrong to be suspicious.

  * * *

  The dining room was a large high-ceilinged hall, with intricately embroidered tapestries lining the cold stone walls. Four places had been set at one end of
the massive oak dining table, which was beautifully decorated with flowers and large silver candelabras. A fire crackled in the stone fireplace and I was glad for it.

  Brandon held my chair as I sat down next to Kalen and opposite Rafe, looking out at the three large windows shut against the biting chill of the mountain air. Huge brass chandeliers hung from the rafters of the ceiling, generously lit with thousands of candles which warmed the room with their golden glow.

  Brandon took his place at the head of the table as white-gloved, liveried footmen stood in a line, each one holding a large platter topped with a silver-domed cloche to keep the food warm. Once we sat down they came over to serve us one by one, opening the cloches with a flourish and revealing the delicacies underneath.

  Brandon looked amused at the portions I took on my plate, but I was so hungry and everything looked so good I couldn’t resist. There was fig glazed roast pork with a rich red wine sauce, a chicken and leek pie with a buttery crust, honey roasted vegetables, roast venison wrapped with crispy bacon, honey corn bread, lemon curd tarts, and steamed treacle pudding with a honeycomb cream. Brandon raised an eyebrow when I asked for my third helping of treacle pudding. Rafe, of course, was used to my appetite and seemed entertained by Brandon’s face when I polished off all the food.

  After dinner was done, Brandon walked us to our rooms himself through long drafty corridors to the east wing, as moonlight bathed the old stone castle in a spectral white sheen.

  “I know you must be tired, and I won’t keep you,” he said, bowing to me at the door of my room. “I will send your breakfast up to your room in the morning so you can rest, and take your time getting ready.”

  Rafe ignored Brandon. “We will leave at daybreak, Aurora. The faster we get on that ship to Brandor, the better.”