The Rise of the Dawnstar

by Farah Oomerbhoy

  “Your hair is darkening and your eyes are changing back,” he said abruptly.

  “What!” I said, touching my hair and my face. “How? The mastermage said the transformation would last until I left.” I looked at my hands—my skin had started changing back too.

  “This can only mean one thing.” Santino unsheathed his sword, turning on his heel. “The mastermage is in trouble.” He grabbed my hand and started running. “We have to get to the library.”

  We dashed to the massive library, through the wide arched doors, and down the main aisle.

  The sight that lay before me stopped me in my tracks.

  The mastermage was lying on the floor, blood seeping from the wound in his stomach, running like a river of red onto the white marble. His attacker was nowhere to be found.

  Recovering quickly, I went to him and fell on my knees.

  He was still alive, clinging to his last breath.

  “Can you save him?” Santino came up behind me, keeping his voice low.

  I nodded solemnly, but I wasn’t so sure. I had no idea how much damage had been done to the internal organs. But I had to try. I placed my hands on his chest and tried to find a drop of magic to begin the healing, but my magic would not surface. I tried again. I could feel a hint of it within me, but I needed more. I needed to remove the amulet for this sort of healing. I closed my eyes and willed my magic to surface, but the mastermage abruptly grabbed my hand.

  My eyes snapped open.

  “You will not do this, Aurora.” His voice was low and raspy. “My time has come—even you cannot save me now. Have you forgotten what happened when you tried this with your pegasus?”

  An image of Lilith flashed before my eyes and I lowered my hands. He was right, he was too far gone. If I tried to heal him I could open another portal, and something worse than Lilith could come through.

  Santino kneeled beside me and gently took the other man’s hand in his. “Who did this to you, Diego?”

  The mastermage coughed and blood splattered onto his chest. He could barely speak, but he wanted to say something. “They are here,” the mastermage’s voice cracked, and I had to strain to hear his words. “You need to . . . leave . . . now.”

  “Who, who’s here?” I asked.

  “The Drakaar.” His eyelids fluttered.

  “What!” I gasped. “How did they find me?”

  “Dela . . .” he had another coughing fit and tried again. “It was Delacourt.”

  I looked at Santino, who was pacing behind me. His knuckles were white as he gripped the hilt of his sword and scanned the empty library. “That traitor.”

  “But why?” I asked, still not comprehending Brandon had betrayed me. “What does he have to gain?”

  “The key,” rasped the mastermage, clutching my hand. “He took the key, Aurora.”

  Santino’s head snapped back to look at me. “What key?”

  “No!” I shook my head as my heartbeat sped up. One more key to the Book of Abraxas was gone.

  The mastermage grasped my hand. “Go to Elfi . . . find the Dawnstar . . . It is the only way. . .” He closed his eyes, and breathed his last.

  “We must leave,” urged Santino, putting his hand on my shoulder as I let go of the mastermage’s limp hand. “There is nothing you can do for him now.”

  A low growl sounded and my blood ran cold. It was coming from inside the library. I could feel a dark presence moving closer and I knew what it was before I saw it.

  Terror struck me. Drakaar assassins, the dark sorcerers who killed my father, had finally come for me.

  This time there was no one to save me and there was nowhere to hide.

  10

  The Drakaar

  A dark figure emerged out of the shadows and my legs nearly gave way under me. A creature out of my worst nightmare, half man, half beast, towered above Santino. I would never forget those burning red eyes and razor sharp fangs. Its leathery wings spread out behind it, ready to pounce on its prey.

  I recognized it immediately. A gorgoth! The vile henchmen of the Drakaar.

  Santino slashed at it with his sword, but the gorgoth growled and blocked the blow, flinging him out of the way. I gathered my magic and aimed a fire strike at the creature. Power blasted out of my hands and sizzled as it struck. My magic only made it hesitate, and it kept coming for me.

  I ran to help Santino, pulling him up with one hand and scorching the gorgoth with all the power I could muster.

  Santino recovered and grabbed my hand. “Run!”

  We sprinted through the towering bookshelves and deserted corridors of the massive library. The creature was fast and gaining on us; its growls echoed through the room.

  “This way.” Santino pulled me through a door, which led out into an open courtyard.

  What I saw before me made my blood run cold.

  The palace courtyard was a mess. A group of guards had engaged in a bloody battle with four gorgoths that flew through the terrifying melee, slicing open necks and chests with their sharp fangs and deadly claws. Bodies lay strewn on the ground as guards fell under the massive strength of the demon creatures.

  Santino removed a dagger from his boot and swiftly threw it at the closest gorgoth, hitting his target in the eye. The gorgoth screamed and fell to the ground, thrashing but still alive. Another gorgoth was surrounded by spear wielding guards and Santino raised his sword, rushing into the throng.

  But the magic I felt moving towards me was not coming from the gorgoths, and I turned toward the darkness that threatened to engulf us all. Four hooded figures stood perfectly still in the middle of the courtyard, watching their henchmen wreak havoc on the Brandorians, and I paled.

  The Drakaar.

  The sorcerers of Dragath removed their hoods and what I saw in front of me sent a shiver down my spine. Their faces were sharp and angular, human-like in their outward appearance, with the pale white features and blond hair of the northerners. But what I saw in their eyes when they looked at me made my magic recoil as if it wanted to hide. Dark black pools that seemed to have devoured whole worlds gazed at me. Their necks and parts of their faces were covered with black tattoos that glowed with a strange magic, depicting ancient symbols that swirled over their pale skin. The power they radiated was nothing I had ever felt before, not even with Lucian.

  Not human.

  One Drakaar smiled when he saw me—a feral grin with a terrifying glint of teeth, revealing elongated canines that could tear out my throat with a single bite. He reached out his hand toward me and latched onto my magic like a blood-sucking leech, sucking the very life force out of me. I struggled to get my power back under my command, but it would not obey me.

  There was a flurry of shouts and screams as Santino’s mercenaries entered the fray. On Santino’s orders, they battled the remaining gorgoths, who slashed and dismembered palace guards three at a time. Santino continued shouting orders to his men, clear and precise instructions on how to kill the gorgoths.

  He ran up to me amidst the chaos. “You must remove your amulet, Aurora.”

  I hesitated. I was not ready, I had not mastered my control yet.

  “Now!” he shouted as he ran ahead, already engaged in a fight to the death with a gorgoth that had felled at least ten of his men. Santino swerved and danced around the creature, never giving the creature a chance to get a hit in. His sword flashed lethal in his right hand as he slashed the back of the gorgoth’s knees and then its wings with the dagger he held in his left. The gorgoth crashed to the ground as Santino took a running leap, pouncing on the creature and burying his sword up to the hilt in its chest.

  One of the Drakaar raised his hand, and I could feel the ancient hum of dark magic as tendrils of dark shadow lashed out at Santino, picking him up and flinging him against the far wall.

  I had seen enough. I had to do something, I had to overcome this fear. I was a warrior trained to fight, but I knew this was a battle we could not win. If I could muster enough power to hold th
em off, I might be able to get us clear of the citadel with our lives intact.

  I removed the chain from my neck, and both my hands shone with silver-fire as my fae magic awoke and responded, unbound by the fetters of the amulet that held it in check. The darkness hit my shield and tore against it, trying to find a way in. Raising my hands, I released the silver-fire that rose in my veins, lashing out at the sorcerers of Dragath with everything I could muster.

  But the Drakaar only hissed and faltered momentarily, my magic hitting a shield that absorbed my silver-fire into the blackness as if it was never there.

  As the sparks abated, the first of the Drakaar smiled, his canines flashing like daggers in the moonlight. “You have power, little princess, but not the skill or the experience. You still do not know how to use your fae magic, and I will enjoy killing you slowly.”

  The Drakaar sorcerer raised his hand—I could feel a crushing weight around my shield, pushing against it and threatening to shatter it completely. An ancient evil seeped out of his very pores, feeding on the terror that lay thick in the air, suffocating all hope and light, replacing it with despair, pain, and sorrow.

  I drew more magic into me to strengthen my shield, but the sorcerer’s power was more formidable than I had anticipated. The other Drakaar added their sorcery to the assault, and my legs started shaking. I fell to my knees. The pressure of trying to hold my shield against the crushing darkness was too much.

  “There will be no escape this time, Aurora,” a familiar voice drawled. I looked up. Brandon stood in front of me surrounded by the Drakaar sorcerers, a satisfied smirk on his handsome face. “There is no one who can save you now.”

  My anger flared and I wanted to strangle him. My magic blazed in response and I threw a stun strike at him, but the Drakaar were shielding him, and he remained unharmed. Silver-fire started to form in my palms as I desperately tried to gather my magic.

  Brandon looked at my hands with no remorse whatsoever. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His cold blue eyes were like shards of ice.

  I heard a cry and Santino fell to his knees. One Drakaar had his hands outstretched, his magic concentrating on Santino, pinning him to the ground and awaiting orders.

  We were surrounded.

  “Why, Brandon?” I ground out through clenched teeth, my hands continuing to glow. “Why did you do it? Why betray us?”

  “Curb your magic, Aurora, or the Pirate Prince dies,” said Brandon sharply.

  I hesitated, then reduced the glow in my hands, although not completely.

  “You won’t get away with this,” I stated, but I could see Santino out of the corner of my eye, struggling with his magical bonds.

  “Oh, but I already have.”

  “What has Morgana offered you?” I had to keep him talking—maybe I could stall until some backup came. “Land, titles?”

  But I could hear screams coming from inside the palace, and I knew the gorgoths were keeping the guards busy. No one was coming to help us.

  “You think I did this for money?” Brandon paused. “So like your father. Clueless to the feelings of others or too selfish to care.”

  “My father? What does my father have to do with it? He’s dead.”

  “Yes, he may have died, but not before he ruined my sister’s life and took her away from me.”

  My hand flew to my mouth as realization dawned. Rafe had told me the story of Brandon’s sister, the poor girl who leapt from a castle window and killed herself over a man. But I never knew who the man was. Until now.

  “It was my father,” I choked on the words. “The one your sister was in love with?” That’s why he put me in her room at Briarwood Castle. It was some sort of sick game he had been playing.

  Brandon nodded, his lips a thin line. I could see the pain in his eyes every time his sister was mentioned. He must have loved her a great deal, and I almost felt bad for him.

  “Yes, he told Riora he loved her, but when your mother came along he discarded her without a backward glance,” he snarled.

  “No!” I shook my head, I didn’t want to believe it. “My father wouldn’t do that. He was a good man.”

  “Foolish girl.” Brandon stepped closer, his jaw tightening. “Your father was a coward and a liar. Now he has left his daughter behind to pay for his crimes. I was lucky to have met the archmage on my travels through Illiador, and he offered me a chance to finally get my revenge on your family.”

  “You told Lucian where we were in Calos too.” It all made sense. That was why he was so concerned about how my magic was recovering. “It wasn’t Marcus who betrayed us. It was you all along.”

  “Yes.” Brandon nodded. “Getting rid of Marcus Gold wasn’t difficult. It was that insufferable Captain Gerard who spoiled my carefully laid plans.” He paused, eyeing me warily. “When I realized your powers were stronger than the archmage, I had to change my strategy. I sent word directly to Morgana as to where you were, and that your magic was weakened from using it in Calos.”

  The Drakaar were still circling and holding Santino down with their sorcery.

  “I have what I came for,” Brandon grinned, taking out the triangular key from his pocket. “The Drakaar, however, I called specifically to take care of you.”

  He seemed to be enjoying this. How could I ever have trusted him?

  I gathered my magic and let it build up. If I was going to die today, I would go down fighting.

  “Don’t do it, Brandon. You have no idea what Morgana is going to do with that key.” I tried to reason with him. “She is going to destroy our whole world.”

  “I don’t care.” Brandon turned to walk away. “I got what I wanted, and I will be placed in a high position once Morgana becomes High Queen.” He stopped and turned back, almost as an afterthought. “I do regret having to kill the mastermage, though,” he added. “But the silly old man kept the key on a chain around his neck. It was the only way.”

  He looked at the Drakaar. “I’m done with her. She’s all yours.”

  My heartbeat quickened. I had to stop him from leaving with the key. Raising my hands, I gathered my magic. The sky crackled and shimmered as I shot a lightning strike at Brandon, but the Drakaar were still shielding him and he disappeared into the shadows.

  Santino lay pinned to the ground, struggling to get up as Drakaar shadows circled him. I couldn’t project my magic past theirs to shield him, and the darkness was reaching for me and snaking around my shield, trying to break through.

  I whirled and shot consecutive bolts of silver-fire at the Drakaar; they recoiled and hissed as it struck them but only stopped momentarily. My fae powers held them back, but not for long. Silver-fire was the only thing that made them hesitate; mage magic had no effect on them whatsoever. Sweat formed on my brow as I struggled to control my wild magic without my amulet, but the dark sorcery of the Drakaar was too strong, and I had no idea how to get past their shields.

  The leader of the Drakaar, the one who spoke to me earlier, reached out his hand, which looked more like a claw. Out snaked a shadow that solidified into a horrific creature similar to a gorgoth but without wings: a shadow demon. It lunged for me, pushing me to the ground as it clasped me in its talons, reaching out and suffocating my magic.

  I struggled to focus. I couldn’t die here. I had so much to do. There were so many people who were depending on me. I had been foolish and naïve all this time. If only I had learned to wield my fae powers properly.

  But it was too late.

  The Drakaar unsheathed a deadly-looking black sword from the scabbard on his back and stepped forward. “Once you are dead, little princess, Morgana will give us what we need to release our lord from his prison. And when he is free, even the High Queen of Avalonia will bend to the might of Lord Dragath.”

  A resounding screech, unfamiliar yet oddly comforting, made me look up. Even the Drakaar glanced up and faltered. What I saw next left me speechless and awestruck as the last spark of hope in my heart struggled to stay alive. />
  A brilliant flash of light burned through the night sky, drowning out the light of the moon. Out of the swirling clouds above emerged four massive griffins, creatures of myth and legend, with the bodies of lions and the heads and wings of eagles. On their backs rode four magnificent fae warriors, armed and deadly, holding swords flashing with silver-fire.

  They leapt off the griffins before they touched the ground, and the shadow creature holding me in its grasp shrieked in fury as a blazing sword of silver-fire sliced through it. It exploded into black shards that dissipated in the light.

  The fae warriors took up a fighting formation, surrounding me and shielding me from the Drakaar. The first warrior to reach me, the one who had killed the Shadow demon, looked to be the most lethal. I never knew the fae to look like this. His hair was long and dark as night, his face was the epitome of male beauty. Tall, lean, and corded with muscle, with unmistakable fae ears, he radiated power like nothing I had felt before.

  He turned to glance at me and his bright sapphire eyes glowed with silver sparks, like stars in a twilight sky.

  I pushed myself up and stood on wobbly legs, willing my hands to stop shaking. I gathered my magic and shielded myself.

  The big fae warrior turned his back to me as he faced the leader of the Drakaar. “Ah! Raziel,” he said with a smirk, seeming utterly unimpressed with the dark sorcerer. “It’s been a while.” He stepped forward with his deadly sword flashing silver in his hand, confidence rolling off him in waves. “You dare to come so close to the borders of Elfi?”

  “Tristan,” hissed the Drakaar, taking a step back, his eyes darting to Tristan’s companions who stood around us, perfectly honed warriors. “Stay out of this, it has nothing to do with you.”

  But Tristan didn’t flinch. “That is where you are wrong, Raziel.” His sharp eyes narrowed. “Princess Aurora is under the protection of the queen of Elfi. If you want her”—he twirled his sword deftly in his hand and assumed a fighting stance—“you will have to go through me.”

  “Hey!” said a red-haired warrior on my left, glaring at Tristan. “What about us? Do we look like chopped liver to you?”