The Royal Wizard

by Alianne Donnelly

  When he finally reached her, he sniffed at her night shirt and her hands, and at long last, his tail began to wag and she felt the rasp of his tongue against her fingers. Nia lowered to her haunches to scratch him behind the ears.

  “The sorcerer is gone,” Nia said, not looking at the god.

  “I am aware.”

  “We had a deal, Trickster.”

  “Indeed, we did. I vowed to tell you of your sire if you rid me of the sorcerer.”

  “Well?” She looked at him.

  Loki grinned sharply for a quick instant before smoothing his features out again. “I do not recall specifying when I would tell you, only that I would.” Nia scowled and he laughed. “In time, wizard. You have plenty of it. Learn a little patience.”

  Nia had half a mind to put him to the ceiling and keep him there a good long while. She resisted only because she had no wish to be around him any more than was absolutely necessary.

  The wolf rolled onto his back and pawed the air madly, demanding a belly rub.

  “Tell me something else, then,” she said. “What is this about the king? Tell me of these secrets of yours.”

  “They are no secrets of mine he has been learning,” he said with an easy shrug.

  “What do you mean by that? Enough of your games, Trickster. Tell me what it is you want so badly for me to know and leave. I have duties to attend to.” And she was famished. Considering how hungry she was, Nia guessed she had to have slept for at least a fortnight.

  “The kingling’s feet tread far in sleep. He sought a link and found it. Now his grandsire can speak, tho’ the king’s hearing is weak, and summonses have been sounded.”

  So Saeran has found a way to speak to the dragon. Did that release her from his presence in her mind? She hadn’t felt him since she’d woken. It was a relief to have her thoughts to herself again. But she’d gotten used to the dragon’s presence. Even when he’d meddled, he’d at least been someone to talk to.

  Not knowing why she did so, Nia reached out to the dragon. She felt his presence instantly, warmth, and kindness, and welcome. “She’s awakened,” she heard him say, and, realizing he wasn’t alone, she withdrew immediately.

  “Well, now you have done it,” Loki said, rising from the window sill. The afternoon sun reflected off his hair, making it glitter and shine like sharp, polished copper. “They will pour in here in droves now to see to you. A thing I have no wish to be part of, so I shall bid you farewell.”

  Nia narrowed her eyes at him. “You are hiding something,” she accused.

  “Always,” he replied with another quicksilver grin.

  Her mind raced with possibilities. Whatever he was withholding would be of great importance, and he was doing it simply to spite her and amuse himself. “Saeran knows about his grandsire. What else? What other secrets?”

  The Trickster’s eyes gleamed wickedly. “You will find out soon enough. I would not dream of spoiling the surprise.”

  “Loki!”

  It was too late. He’d disappeared. And while Nia thought she might be able to summon him back, there would be no point to it. He would prove no more obliging than he had thus far.

  The wolf came to his paws again, barking at the nothing that remained where Loki had been. It would seem the beast didn’t like him any more than Nia did. Then he turned on Nia, or rather, the door behind Nia, and he barked once more, his tail wagging wildly.

  With no more time to think or debate the Trickster’s riddles, she conjured her robes about her. Her hair pleated itself back as the walls and the floor all but shivered with anticipation. She could feel it in the air, and so could the wolf, if the way he shook himself and grumbled was anything to go by. There were people coming. And she had a very bad feeling that she ought not be found in this room. At the very least she needed to meet them outside in the hall. There, she could think of some reason for her presence.

  Needing to escape, she opened the door—

  —and walked into Saeran.

  They froze, staring at each other for long moments, while the wolf barked and pranced around them and then bounded off to someone else. Nia didn’t know where he went. She knew there were others behind Saeran, but all she could see was him. He was dressed in his official kingly garb, his crown heavy upon his brow. His eyes were clear and sharp, with no lingering shadows from his ordeal. He seemed younger, somehow. As if a great burden had lifted from his shoulders. He stood tall and proud, radiating heat and strength in a way that reminded her of his grandsire. Saeran was more dragon than she’d realized.

  Nia heard his heart racing in his chest, and her own heart matched the rhythm. The way he was looking at her made heat bloom in her cheeks. She knew she wasn’t breathing, but couldn’t find a pressing enough reason to inhale.

  Then Saeran’s mouth pulled into a smile, and then that smile grew bigger, more dazzling as he took her hand and bowed over it, holding her gaze all the while. “Welcome back, my queen,” he said, his voice low and full of mystery.

  Nia blushed at the endearment aware of the others present. “Majesty,” she answered uncertainly.

  “It is a shame you did not wake this morning,” he said. “We missed your presence at the ceremony.”

  “Ceremony?” Nia frowned, listening to what the walls could tell her. For once, they were silent, watching everything with rapt curiosity. There was no breeze to speak to her, and if the earth itself knew anything, it wasn’t telling. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Nearly three weeks,” Saeran said. “We were worried for you at first, but your color improved daily so we waited. But after everything that’s happened there were those who believed that we could not wait much longer. Something needed to be done, and so a wedding ceremony was held this morning.”

  Nia swayed back, and were it not for Saeran’s hold on her hand—both her hands—she would have fallen over. Saeran wouldn’t be dressed this way for anyone’s wedding but his own. “You married?”

  That smile remained on his lips as he studied her reaction. Whatever he deduced from it seemed to hearten him, but he frowned as he dropped his gaze. “Sadly, my bride was not yet present, and so I was forced to marry her by proxy.” With his head still bowed, he looked up at her, his mouth twitching.

  This time, Nia pulled her hands out of his grasp and backed away from him. “You didn’t,” she whispered as understanding dawned. “Tell me you did not—”

  “It is done,” the dragon said with his familiar deep voice.

  Nia looked to where he stooped by the gleeful wolf, playing with him. He wore dark breeches and a deep red shirt, with a brown leather jerkin. His hair was combed back, but his horns were gone, as was his tail. He looked older as well, though not near old enough to be Saeran’s grandsire. There was a sharpness to his gaze when he looked at her, but warmth as well. It was a duality not easily affected by normal people.

  Saeran must have summoned him out of his icy isolation, and while he didn’t seem unhappy to be there, Nia could tell he wasn’t comfortable with his fully human form. His essence was still that of a dragon, and she felt it fill the hallway, though the advisors behind him seemed oblivious to it.

  The dragon didn’t stop playing with the wolf, but his attention was on Nia. He was waiting, she realized, not for her answer, but for her acceptance. “A proxy still needs to be finalized by the bride’s consent.”

  “It is done,” repeated the dragon simply.

  “What have you done?” she whispered, her heart beating too fast and her breaths coming too slow. She was beginning to feel light headed.

  “What I should have done months ago,” Saeran said, following her retreat. He grasped her shoulders firmly and she was glad of the support, even while she pushed against his chest to be released. “Placed you where you belong. At my side. As my queen.”

  “The people won’t accept—”

  “We will sort it out.”

  “Aegiros, and Ravetia…”

  “Braith?”


  “They will not dare challenge a royal pair as powerful as you, Majesties,” Braith answered.

  “Your advisors…”

  “Gave their unanimous support,” Allon said.

  “All but shoved me to the altar,” Saeran added wryly.

  “Heirs?” she ventured. He couldn’t possibly have the answer to every question. There were too many! Too much could go wrong, especially now with the Veil damaged and Others looking for an excuse to lash out. There would be fighting, possibly riots, to say nothing of war.

  “My decree still stands. Should I die without heirs, the rule of Wilderheim will pass to Halden’s children and the two kingdoms will join into one.” He softened his tone as he continued. “As to the matter of children, my love, you have yourself told me that it takes dragonblood to birth a dragon. Blood that runs in your veins now. The decision will be yours.”

  At this last, the advisors hummed unhappily, but they didn’t say a word. The dragon, still watching her with his inscrutable eyes, gave the slightest of nods. The wolf now sat beside him, another member of their rapt audience.

  Nia shivered beneath the weight of their scrutiny. She was fighting not only them but herself as well. But she couldn’t give in to the treacherous part of her that so longed to say yes. Why couldn’t they understand? She was trying to keep them all safe! A pair of Others ruling a human kingdom would be disastrous. Her duty was to safeguard Wilderheim. She was trying to protect them! She was…

  Lost for her king. And had been since the day they’d first met.

  Nia had always known she would never take a lover or become a wife. She’d sworn her fealty to the king, knowing that, for her, such fealty carried a great deal of heart as well. And she’d known what it would mean. A lifetime spent in shadow, dispensing wisdom while keeping to herself. Nia was the royal wizard. She’d accepted her duty as the power behind the king.

  Her heart had never been free to give.

  “Sweet Nia,” Saeran said, drawing her closer, despite her silent protests. “Beloved soul. The beat of my heart. There never was another way.” His arms came around her, holding her close. “You were my destiny from the first.”

  “I am your wizard,” she tried, but couldn’t voice it with conviction.

  Saeran noticed. He smiled again. “You must accept me,” he said. Not accept this. He wasn’t asking her to rule his kingdom, or bear him sons. He was asking her to let him into her heart. Nothing more.

  He didn’t know. She’d never told him. Her heart had always been his to begin with. Never free to give, because he’d already held it.

  Saeran nuzzled her temple, his voice dropping to a whisper at her ear. “You must,” he repeated, and the whole of Nia’s being responded to his words. “Because the first time we kissed, time stopped.”

  When his lips brushed hers, Nia stopped fighting. It was done, had been for a very long time. She simply hadn’t allowed herself to admit it. No matter the path chosen, this would always have been her destination because there were some things in this world not even a powerful Halfling Other with dragon’s blood in her veins could overcome, nor did she want to. Nico must have known. He would not have brought her here if he hadn’t been absolutely certain it was the right thing to do. It gave her the courage to believe that whatever the future held she would weather it as long as she had Saeran by her side.

  And so the royal wizard acknowledged the inevitable convergence of two mate souls, accepted her beloved king as her husband, and gladly opened her heart to him, telling him with all of herself what she could not speak in words, lest she break their kiss.

  And when time stopped again, she was more than happy to let it.

  EPILOGUE

  “You doubted me.”

  Freki surged to her feet. Head low, hackles up, she snarled at the shadow and the figure emerging from its depths. As Muninn took flight and alighted on Loki’s shoulder, cocking his head from side to side, Woden breathed a quiet sigh. Here stood the most beautiful Halfling ever born. Beautiful and flawed. “Yes,” he replied simply.

  Loki’s dark smile skewed, darkness leaking from his empty eyes. “You, who knows all, doubted a future set in eternity?”

  “Nothing is ever set, Loki. You should know that better than anyone.”

  Muninn cawed, unsettled by Loki’s growing anger. “I destroyed the stone, did I not?”

  “You created it in the first place,” Woden reminded him. “And what of the Veil?”

  A burst of darkness flared out of Loki. Where it touched, the world changed. Grass coiled like a nest of snakes, pebbles grew spider legs and crawled, jumping onto trees and logs which suddenly groaned like ravenous beasts. “That was not my doing!”

  “It came about as a direct result of your actions. You will be held accountable.”

  Loki shouted to the sky, and his new creations screamed with him.

  Woden fisted his hand and slammed it down on the smooth stone surface of his armrest. A deafening boom made the earth shudder, knocking Loki to his knees and startling Muninn into flight. Everything Loki had brought to unnatural life reverted to its inert form, though it would forever carry his dark taint.

  Chest heaving with wrath-filled breaths, Loki glared at Woden. He would not stand until Woden allowed it.

  The All-Father rose from his seat and looked around, breathing in the serenity of this place. It would not last much longer. Loki’s interference had set in motion events which could not be stopped by an act of the divine. The Veil was not only a separation between the human realm and the Otherlands, but also the vessel of divine power. Even now that power bled out of Asgard, dispersing into the aether and very soon it would leech from the gods themselves.

  Though he was far removed, Fenrir’s howls echoed on the wind. The monster knew his time was nigh. He fought his binds, bit at the delicate ribbon tied about his neck. For now it held. A product of Dwarven magic and skill, it was yet unaffected by the change. But if Nialei and the Others failed to restore the Veil, the ribbon’s magic would drain and Fenrir would break free and devour the world as had been foretold.

  Loki closed his eyes and smiled to hear the eerie sound. There was something akin to pride in the set of his shoulders. Even subjugated to his knees he showed no humility. “Listen,” he whispered. “My son sings to me of freedom. Is it not beautiful? His agony will be your end, All-Father. It’s coming, can you feel it?” When he looked at Woden again, his smile was sharp as a blade, promising terrible things.

  “Get up,” Woden commanded.

  Like a puppet on strings, Loki rose to his feet. “You so like your Shadows, Trickster? Good. You will stay in them henceforth.”

  His black eyes widened. “How long?”

  “Until you learn that your actions have consequences. Forever if need be.”

  “No!” Loki lunged at Woden, but the binding spell held him back. The Shadow from whence he came grew and reached out, wrapping smoky tendrils around the Trickster, drawing him back into its depths. “I’ll kill you! All of you!” He screamed ancient words and curses, his voice echoed by Fenrir’s rising frenzy. He could feel his father’s wrath, as Loki felt his. “Avenge me, son!” When the shadow swallowed him whole, its stain dissipated and peace settled over the land once more.

  It took a long time for Fenrir’s maddened howls to die down. When they did, mist poured into the clearing, swirling up and taking shape. From its center emerged Frigga, a worried frown marring her brow. “How long will it hold him?”

  “Not long enough, I fear.”

  “Nialei will need time.”

  “She might not have it.”

  Frigga nodded. “Then we will have to speed things along.”

  “Frigga,” Woden said, taking her hand in his. “You cannot stop the inevitable.”

  His beautiful wife smiled. “So you say. But did you not also say that nothing is ever set?” Before he could answer, Frigga turned to mist and blew away.

  With a weary groan, Woden settled back in his se
at. “Deserted again,” he told Freki.

  She tilted her head at him and whined.

  “What’s wrong? What isn’t? The Veil is down, Others sit the throne of a human kingdom, magic is spilling everywhere and…” he sighed. “And the worst of it is this is only the beginning. Darkness grows outside of Wilderheim. Can you feel it?”

  Freki shook herself out.

  Woden nodded and closed his eyes. Unbidden a vision formed in his mind, a portent of both light and dark. The great dragon flew through the air, breathing massive plumes of fire at the clouds. The desert moon rose on a shriek of demons rioting through the night. A vast army gathered beneath the sign of a blood red cross. He opened his eyes and rubbed his aching head. “Whatever you plan to do, my love,” he said to the winds whisking her away, “do it fast.”

  The End…?

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Okay, so when I said The Royal Wizard would be a stand-alone book I lied. Well, no, I didn’t lie. I just didn’t anticipate the nefarious wickedness that is my friends.

  “You have to make this into a series!” they said.

  “No, it’s done,” I replied. “The story has a happy ending, it’s finished.”

  And then one of them asked the most dangerous question there is: “But if you wanted to, how would you continue it?”

  Well, I thought, it couldn’t be Saeran and Nia’s story again, because they are finished. It would have to be their child. Probably a girl who is nothing like her level-headed mother. But better make it twins, a girl and a boy. And, being that they are children of Halflings, naturally they will have issues, and with everything Nia and Saeran had done, they won’t be the only ones and…

  I hadn’t even formed the first sentence to answer this meddlesome friend before I had the outline of an entire book in my head and half of one for the next book after it. So instead of saying all that, I turned to my friend, eye twitching and said simply, “I hate you.”