Tressa's Treasures (The King's Jewel Book 1)

by Gordon, Belinda M

  There was a half-inch gap in the stones of the wall a bit above my head. Unable to keep still any longer, I stretched to peek through. A deer stood on the other side of the wall. She had stopped to eat a tuft of grass protruding from the ice. The poor thing was probably having trouble finding food with everything frozen.

  I came out of the corner to stand by a window opening and watch the deer. A giant fireball rose into the air in the direction of the fighting. I took several deep breaths to calm myself when I thought I heard my name whispered.

  "Tressa."

  I looked around, but no one was there. I listened again, wondering if the sound had been traveling on the wind. A few seconds later, there it was again—louder this time.

  "Tressa, over here."

  Cautiously, taking cover behind the stone walls, I went toward the sound of the voice. When I reached the opposite corner of the cathedral, a shadow moved behind a large tree trunk. I hesitated, wondering if it was safe to investigate further, when the lightest aura I had ever seen stepped out from behind it.

  The small bundle of light ran toward me. By the time it had reached me, I realized that the voiced calling my name belonged to Sophia. She ran head long into me, hugging my legs.

  In one sweeping motion, I leaned down, swooped her up, and rushed with her into the relative protection of the far corner of the cathedral. I crouched down and hugged her against me.

  The child wasn't crying or otherwise showing distress, but she shivered with the cold. Her arms wrapped around my neck with no hint of letting go.

  "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" I tried to pull her away from me so I could see her, but she wouldn't release my neck. I felt her shake her head.

  "Mr. Gil said we were going on a fun trip and Daddy said it was okay. But he was being naughty, taking me away."

  She spoke rapidly. Her voice held a mixture of fear and excitement. I hugged her closer, distressed that she should have spent even a second afraid.

  "How did you know he was being naughty?"

  "He kept saying my name—all my name and being bossy. Miss Órlaith told me that when someone who sparkles does that it means they are trying to boss you around."

  Had my grandmother thought of everything? I remembered telling her that I hadn't been able to hold Dominion over Sophia. It must have meant something to her. I wondered if Sophia's aura had told my grandmother something. She was the only child I had seen since receiving the gift, so I couldn't say if her aura was unusual.

  "What did you do when he bossed you?"

  "I did just what Miss Órlaith told me to do." She relaxed her grip on my neck and sat on my lap. I wrapped my cloak around both of us. "I waited until I saw a big animal with scales and wings. She said the animal would be scary looking, but not to be afraid because they were my friend."

  How had Mamó known that someone would try to bring her to the Otherworld? Or was she just being cautious with all the strange fae activity going on?

  "When I saw the dragon I yelled, 'I'm a lost child and I belong to Princess Tressa,' just like she told me." Her voice wobbled as she continued. "Do I belong to you, Tressa?"

  I gave her a squeeze. "Yes, my dear. You belong to me, and I belong to you."

  She nodded, evidently content with this.

  "Mr. Gil's friends started fighting the dragons, and I didn't know what to do so I ran as fast as I could to get away. And then I got really scared 'cause I didn't know where I was, and this place is so strange and cold, and I didn't know what to do..."

  "Oh honey, you did great. What a good girl you were to do just what Miss Órlaith told you."

  We sat quietly for a minute while I thought about our next move. Into the silence Sophia said, "I took a ride on the wind."

  Her comment startled me out of my thoughts.

  "You did? How did that happen?" Could this be true? Humans weren't supposed to be able to flit.

  "Mr. Gil grabbed me and started running. Then there was a whooshing sound like the wind was blowing real hard, and we were floating on it. When he stopped we were at a lake."

  The sound of an explosion much closer than any previous ones brought my attention back to our current predicament. The fact that Sophia could flit was actually helpful. If we moved out into the open, I could flit with her to the grounds of the palace. Once on safe ground I could shout to Henry on the wind where we were. I hated the idea of leaving Alexander behind, but I felt confident he would want me to get Sophia to safety.

  "Sophia, we're going to try to get away from these bad guys by riding on the wind again, okay?" The child's eyes grew wide with apprehension, but she nodded. "Now, to do that, we'll need to go back outside. I'm going to take your hand and we're going to get a running start. Then you hang onto me. Whatever you do, don't let go of my hand. Do you understand?"

  Another explosion in the near distance set us both on edge, but she managed another nod and grabbed my hand tightly.

  When we went back to the outside, the sound of voices and shouts came through the woods. They were tracking Sophia's escape route, and I could just see some of them through the trees.

  "Come on, Sophia, run!"

  We ran down the side of the building, away from the fae I had seen about to break out of the woods.

  We were too close to the building. Its weight blocked the wind. We had no choice but to run out into the openness of the churchyard.

  I ran three strides and the wind began to lift me, but my grip on Sophia's hand yanked me back. At first I thought she had been wrong about flitting. However, when I regained my footing I realized an enchanted rope had lassoed her, anchoring her to the fae holding the other end.

  Unseelie Rebels surrounded us, their weapons pointed in our direction.

  "Lower your weapons," I scolded them. "You might hurt the child."

  "They're pointed at you, not her," said one of the rebels. "Give her over to us and there won't be any weapons pointed in her direction."

  Sophia whimpered and hid under my cape. Her little hands grabbed onto the back of my jeans.

  "This is my child. Surely you wouldn't expect a Sidhe to hand over her child?"

  The same rebel, whose aura was so dark I could only pick out his red hair through it, lowered his spear. He circled around me. The others kept their spears aimed at my heart.

  "Do you think we don't know who you are? You're the Jewel herself. The entire realm knows you are barren."

  When he completed his circle, I was able to capture his features. He confronted me, nose to nose, with a smirk on his face. I lifted my head higher and pushed my shoulders back to feign confidence.

  "None-the-less, she is mine. How dare you lasso her like an animal? Step aside and let us go on our way."

  "We're not your subjects to order around," he spat on the ground. "The way I hear it, this is your brother's child."

  He chanted a few words and the rope released Sophia's leg, coiling itself and hanging in the air in front of him.

  Sophia's tiny voice came out from under my cape.

  "I am too Tressa's." It was a weak declaration that held more fear than conviction, but for a second I thought her words had affected the Unseelie.

  That hope was shattered when he muttered a few words under his breath and the rope sprang at me, wrapping around one wrist, then the other and binding them together in front of me.

  The redhead grabbed my face and gruffly turned it side to side as he examined me.

  "I have orders to bring you back to camp, but nobody said I had to make it pleasant."

  Thorns sprouted from the rope and dug into my skin. He then spelled a metaphysical anchor to the rope to prevent me from escaping on the wind. He took the edge of his spearhead and cut off a piece of my hair, dangling it in front of me.

  "A souvenir," he said, his tone mocking. He turned back to his men. "Angus, stay with them."

  They marched us through the woods. I tried to loosen my restraints as we walked, but the thorns dug deeper into my skin with every smal
l movement.

  Sophia walked beside me, hiding under my cape. We fell to the end of the group; her little legs couldn't keep up with the men. All but Angus marched ahead of us.

  I frequently looked to the sky, hoping to spot Henry. The dense trees made it impossible to know if he was there or not. I didn't think he was very close, because he didn't speak to me. Sophia's stride got slower and shorter until her body trembled beside mine.

  "The child is tired," I said. "She will fall soon if we don't let her rest. Let me carry her."

  Instead of untying me as I had hoped, Angus pulled away my cape to look at Sophia. She stared back at him with large, scared eyes.

  He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her like a blanket. Then he picked her up and held her against his shoulder. His touch with her was gentle, and without protest, the exhausted child fell asleep.

  I kept a watch on Sophia as we continued our march. I felt uncomfortable having her in the arms of an Unseelie. Previously, I would have thought she was safe with any Sidhe, but Gil's recent actions had taught me otherwise.

  I noticed something odd as we continued to move through the forest. When the Unseelie guard had picked Sophia up, the contrast between their auras couldn't have been greater. However, the longer he carried her, the lighter his aura became.

  Slowly, the soot black gave way to a hint of auburn. It was an extremely subtle change, but it was there. If anything, Sophia's aura only got whiter. At times, it was so bright it was difficult to look at her.

  We stopped at a makeshift encampment in a clearing deep in the forest. A dozen tents and campfires were scattered around the clearing. The Unseelie had melted the snow and ice in the areas around the tents, creating a bed of mud and slush throughout.

  The red-haired leader of the small band disappeared into the largest tent, where I assumed Gilleagán waited for him. Angus led me to sit on a fallen tree trunk. He lay the groggy Sophia next to me, placing her head in my lap. He didn't say anything to me, but he looked surreptitiously over his shoulder before unwrapping one of my wrists.

  A group of scraggly soldiers surrounded us, pulling at the coat around Sophia and trying to see her. I gathered that they hadn't seen a child for quite a while. I might have felt sorry for them under different circumstances.

  As it was, their prodding made me uncomfortable. I pulled back the jacket myself, revealing Sophia's face. The crowd spoke over each other.

  "Sure and she's a beautiful child."

  "Anyone would want this one."

  "She's clever too, I can see it."

  While they chattered about Sophia, several of the men came closer. Two of them reached out. I felt certain they meant to grab Sophia and flit with her. I clutched her to me. They tried to pull her away from me, but I held her fast.

  Sophia, awaken by this tousle, whimpered with fear.

  "Hey, back away, mate." Angus knocked the two rebels away. "These are my charges."

  With Angus standing guard, the other men gave us a more comfortable space. However, I didn't know how long or secure this protection would be. We had to get away from there. My mind raced. I had to let Henry and Alexander know where we were; I couldn't fight these men myself.

  The rebels' admiration of Sophia reminded me of an old song that told the story of a lost child. I began to sing the song quietly, unsure how the crowd would react. If they didn't stop me, I could get my voice on the wind without being obvious.

  The rebels reacted like every other audience I sang for, listening enraptured to my voice. I began to sing more boldly, entrancing them with my song.

  Gilleagán stormed out of the tent. Enraged, he swept his outspread fingers in a circular motion, conjuring a ball of wind that he unleashed onto the camp. The squall felled some of the smaller tents; debris flew everywhere. The campfires, engorged from the rush of air, discharged flames into the wind. The camp was in an uproar of shouts and screams as debris, tents, and two rebels fell prey to the blaze. Only the ice and snow protected the forest from its ravages.

  I gasped, overawed by the display. I had never seen the wind wielded as a weapon in that way.

  "Don't you know she can enchant you?" he shouted at the crowd as they hurried away.

  He grabbed my arm, pulling me to my feet just to backhand me across the face and knock me down again. Sophia cowered next to me.

  "Gilleagán, why are you doing this?" I asked. I touched my cheek to sooth the sting of his blow. "Haven't you done enough damage already? What are you trying to prove?"

  "I don't need to prove anything. I already out-smarted all of you. And for my final trick, I will hand the current Jewel over to the Unseelie for her execution."

  I tried not to flinch. I had known this had to be his intention, but it was still a shock to hear him say it.

  "And the child? Let her go. She has no part in this."

  He came closer to us, and I cringed when he reached out to stroke Sophia's head.

  "She was a special pet of Mamó's, and of yours, little sis. It will be my own special torture for you, knowing she is with me and will never return to her pitiful father. He will live the rest of his life not knowing what has happened to either of you."

  I wanted to ask him what had happened to him. What could possibly have turned him into this monster? However, I knew it would be useless. He was beyond my reach.

  He called to one of the men who took Sophia and me to a large tree on the edge of the clearing. He took the loose end of the rope that dug into my wrist and tied it to a branch, tethering me to the tree.

  He allowed Sophia to snuggle up next to me, still wrapped in Angus's jacket. He didn't seem concerned about restraining her. Perhaps he sensed that she wouldn't consider leaving my side. I almost wished he had restrained her so none of the Unseelie could grab her away from me.

  We sat there for hours before someone brought us water and a bit of food. I let Sophia eat most of it. I ate only after she’d had her fill.

  Nobody came back to check on us as evening fell. During this respite from immediate threats, I spent my time worrying about Alexander. How would he communicate with Henry and the other dragons? How would they treat a human? I worried that he might have been injured, or worse, in the battle by the threshold. I wondered if he would be able to find me.

  A buzz of gossiping voices grew throughout the camp. Eventually, picking up words here and there, I pieced together that the Unseelie Rebels expected Deaglan Mór to arrive the following morning. He was coming to inspect Gilleagán's great prize for him.

  My sense of urgency grew exponentially as the evening wore on and the night sky turned a deep purple. Eventually, the camp was quiet and still. The rebels had gone to bed. Sophia also slept, curled into a ball on her side.

  I drew my knife from my pocket as unobtrusively as possible; I didn't sense any eyes on me, but I knew there had to be guards watching the camp. I slowly ran the dagger across the rope, cutting it little by little so as not to call attention to my movements. The rope, though thin, was tough. I worked my way through it without drawing anyone's notice.

  I gingerly unwrapped the thorny cord from my wrist, reopening the cuts in the process. When I was finally free, I gently shook Sophia, wanting to wake her up but not wanting to startle her, lest she make noise. I had just gotten her to her feet when a shout came from the far side of the camp.

  Within seconds, the camp was in chaos. Rebels ran in every direction, grabbing their weapons and shouting orders. Seelie warriors flooded the campground.

  I recognized Connor in the distance. He fought two Unseelie simultaneously clashing swords with one then the other. I almost cried out when a third Unseelie ran up behind him. Connor must have heard him coming because he whirled, slicing through the chest of the Unseelie at his back and lancing the second as he completed his turn. Another Seelie warrior finished off the third combatant.

  A dragon swooped down breaking away treetops as it dove. Stretching its long neck, it grabbed two of the rebels with its teeth.
It shook the Unseelie and threw them against a thick tree trunk. They dropped grotesquely to the ground.

  More swords clashed around me, growing ever closer. Blood splattered and intermixed with the mud and slush as more Unseelie Rebels fell.

  I tried to take advantage of the confusion by grabbing Sophia and running into the woods, but someone grabbed my hair and brutally yanked me back.

  It was Gilleagán. He pressed his blade to my neck.

  "Let her go, Gil."

  Alexander was there, seeming to materialize out of nowhere.

  "One-Handed Willie arrives just in time to see her die," Gilleagán said.

  Alexander lifted his sword. He rolled it in a figure eight showing off the dexterity in his hand.

  "Let's see if I can gut you, shall we?"

  In that minute, while Gilleagán was distracted by Alexander's swordplay, I plunged my dagger into Gilleagán's leg. The force of the blade hitting his bone reverberated through my bloody hand and up my arm. He fell to the ground; yelling curses and holding his blood soaked leg.

  Alexander stood over him, sword pointed at his chest. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at him.

  I took in a shaky breath, remembering Alexander's words in the cave before we crossed the threshold. He swore he would kill my brother. At any moment I expected him to drive the sword through Gilleagán's heart. I wanted to look away, but I was transfixed. Alexander looked up from his captive and met my eyes. He held my gaze for a moment before looking back down at Gilleagán.

  "Will they put him on trial?" he asked. I had to swallow to find my voice.

  "Aye, and he will most likely be executed," I admitted.

  He nodded curtly, releasing the pressure of the sword on Gilleagán's chest.

  Connor joined us then. He ordered several of his warriors to seize Gilleagán. They restrained him and gathered him with other captured rebels.

  "This is all that remain," Connor said, indicating the small group of prisoners. "The rest are either dead or have fled."

  The battlefield reeked of blood and sweat but was devoid of bodies. The remains of those killed in the fight had returned to their ancestral home.