Curse of the Undead Dragon King (Skeleton Key)

by Konstanz Silverbow

  Is that what I’m now covered in? The blood of whatever creature this thing just ate?

  “Don’t touch me,” I say coolly, remaining calm despite the monster getting ready to feed on me.

  “You are trespassing in my home, Your Highness. Why should I not feast upon your blood and harvest the powers it holds? It seems your time is almost over anyway. What hope do you have of ever reaching the top?” He leans forward, his entire face now visible, including the fanged teeth that stick out farther than the others.

  “Hope is all I have left, and I will not see it vanquished so easily. You do not know what I fight for, but I promise you, my will to live is stronger than yours to feed. I warn you one more time to stay away.” My voice begins to shake with the last words, not from fear, but exhaustion. I can’t retain the same hold for much longer.

  “I think not.” The bloodsucker reaches for me with both hands, grazing my shoulder as I swing away. I hit my knee as I grab on to the farthest rock I can reach. I scramble, climbing higher and faster.

  His laugh echoes throughout the entire pit. I look down and see that he’s begun following me.

  If I needed any more motivation, this is it. I climb faster, working on pure adrenaline now as it becomes a race. I feel across the wall with the hope that there’s something I can pull loose and use as a weapon, but it seems pointless. With a loud whooshing sound, what looks like a thousand bats swarm over me, biting and clawing at my arms.

  I try to knock them away as I climb, but they stay with me. One attaches itself to my back, and several more follow. “Wrong move,” I mutter before swinging back, hitting the wall and smashing the creatures. They yelp and fly away.

  “Do not think it will be so easy,” the vampire whispers.

  “I warned you to stay away, and I meant it.” Breathing fire in human form is one of the most painful things a dragon shifter can ever do—so painful, I’d never do it if I thought there was a way around it.

  I wait for the vampire to come closer, his bat self flying at me again. When he’s only wings’ length away I exhale fire. The creature pieces itself back together, taking its almost-human shape again before falling into the nothingness, burnt into dust.

  Movement farther away catches my attention—a single white butterfly, luminescent as if it’s causing the bright white light around it.

  I shudder, thinking of what the undead king said to me. A drop of light. Could he mean the butterfly? I turn back so I’m facing the wall once again, resting my forehead on the cool rock and closing my eyes, just breathing for a moment. How did it come to this? What happened that I—or anyone—deserved this fate? Lost, alone, fending off undead creatures, fighting to survive.

  A part of me says to let go, fall back, give up. What if the vampire was right? What if there is no hope left? What if it’s all for nothing? What am I fighting for?

  I think of the people I’ve lost. Father and Mother and all that they sacrificed for me. All the things they did for me that I might one day be a great ruler. I think of Zanta and the life we’d been planning. I think of Uncle Castel and all the people of the kingdom.

  Tears spill out on the rocks below me as I think of Zanta and Castel waiting for my return, believing I can break the curse, having faith that I will come back to them.

  Slowly, I reach and grab hold of the rock. I pull myself up another few feet. One hand over the other, I make progress. Slowly but surely. Up and up and up.

  “I’m coming, Zanta. Don’t give up on me just yet,” I say aloud to give myself strength. No matter how hard my arms shake, no matter how much my legs cramp or how hard my heart is beating, I continue onward. I can’t give up now.

  I extend my hand, feeling for the next rock to grab onto, but there’s nothing there. No wall, rough or smooth. I bend my wrist and continue feeling. It feels as if I’ve reached the top. I push, propelling myself upward, grabbing at a nearby tree root as I pull myself over the edge.

  I lie facedown and allow my body to rest just for a moment. Somehow, though it felt near impossible, I’ve reached the top.

  “Don’t just lie there, lazy bones. Get up. You’ve reached the top. That means you’ve broken the curse, yes?” Khende’s voice seems oddly close if he’s supposed to be at the bottom of the pit.

  I lift my head and open a single eye. The satyr isn’t in the pit. He’s standing beside me on a grassy patch, kicking me in the side to wake me.

  “How did you get up here?” I groan as I work myself up to my feet.

  “I fell asleep in that hole where you left me, and then suddenly, I awoke standing here beside you. You were snoring.” He harrumphs and folds his arms across his chest.

  “I think I earned that right, considering I climbed the wall and fought a vampire.” Along with my own personal demons, but I don’t mention that aloud. “And apparently, I freed you as well.”

  “Well done, young king.” A deep voice I’d hoped never to hear again says from above.

  The king of the undead lands on the grassy hill before us. His smirk is unsettling and sets me on edge.

  “I got out of there on my own. Now release me. Break the curse and let me go home,” I demand, placing my hands on either hip.

  “As I said before, you are free to leave at any time. However, without completing the challenges I’ve set for you, you will go home a dragon, and a dragon you will remain.”

  I feel the transformation happening as he’s speaking, but I wish to ignore it, not wanting to change against my will yet another time. But I do, going from human to dragon. I now stand at his same height.

  “Tell me, King, why do you do this? Why must I suffer? Break the curse and return to Dracameveo with me. We will find you a home, and you will never need to curse another again,” I suggest, hoping despite how little hope there is left, that he takes up the offer.

  Instead, he laughs, throwing his head back. “I do not know which I find funnier, Aurelio—that you think it is a home I seek, or that it is I who has cursed you. No matter—the answer is the same. You will go to your new prison and remain there. For how long is up to you. Answer me this—how did your father escape? Only he can tell you. But get the answer quickly, for time is short, and when it’s gone, you’ll be undead too.”

  “No. Don’t! You are not better than me, or anyone. You have no right to do this,” I yell, feeling myself being dragged away once again.

  “I never said I was better, or that I wished to this. Again, this is not my curse.” That is the last thing I hear before he disappears from view entirely.

  When the shadows disappear I find myself in a barren room with four solid walls and no door in sight. How did I come to be in here when there seems to be no way out? I try not to think about it as I lie down on the cold floor. So tired, I just wish for some rest. A quick nap. But something tells me that if I give in, I may never wake. Or if I do, it will be as the king of the undead rather than Aurelio, the king who will return home.

  CASTEL WAS ADAMANT that I do nothing that would cause people to ask more questions in an already delicate situation. And so I sit and wait, staring through the sheer curtains over the window and hoping that night comes far sooner that it feels like it is.

  The maids constantly bring me food, meat mostly, to keep my stomach from growling. But it isn’t enough. The kitchen is only stocked so much, and Belen can just look the other way for so long before she’ll begin to wonder what’s going on. And while she is a staff member and far less likely to question it, her finding out anything beyond what she already knows leaves room for others to find out as well.

  The sun is finally beginning to set when I feel the unwelcome transformation starting to happen. When I shift from dragon to human of my own power, it’s painless and breathtaking. But when magic has been used to force the change upon me, it’s painful and mind-boggling.

  It only takes a breath’s length to find myself standing in the pile of broken wood and straw strewn across the room. I grab my robe from the armoire and sli
p it over my nightgown before sticking my head out into the corridor, making sure the path is clear before leaving my room. I go in search of Castel.

  “Madam! You’ve changed!” Shyla exclaims, coming toward me from one of the crossing halls.

  “Yes, well, I don’t know how or why. It just happened. I need to speak with Castel. Do you know where I might find him?”

  “I do, my lady. But he has made it clear that you are to stay in your room until nightfall.” She curtsies.

  “Yes, but that was while I was . . . not my human self. I believe he wouldn’t mind now. So tell me where he is” I ask kindly.

  “I understand your position, but he was very clear with his wording and his threats should anyone else find out what’s been going on. I can’t risk it. Please return to your chambers, and I will retrieve him for you,” she pleads, trying to sound calm, but her voice breaks.

  “Very well.” I nod and turn back.

  Someone clears their throat in the corner. “Finding out what’s going on? Your future Majesty, please do tell me—what has been going on?” Lord Waylon slithers out from behind the shadows where he lurked.

  “I believe it is none of your concern, Lord Waylon. As I am not feeling well, I am returning to my chambers now.” I pull my robes tighter around me and stomp back to my room. How dare he ask me about something he had no right overhearing?

  I make it to the doorway of my room and stare. The room is an absolute mess. I can’t imagine how we’re going to fix it. Even if the people know nothing of the curse, if they believe I’ve been lying in bed sick all day, how could we remove the broken pieces of my bed and replace it without anyone noticing?

  “Zanta?” Castel calls, distressed. Nearly sprinting toward me, he’s walking so fast.

  “I’ve changed back.” I look up at him timidly, feeling awkward and not even understanding why.

  “I assume you still can’t change at will?” He runs a hand through his hair.

  “No. Do you think I should go after Aurelio? He could be in far more trouble than any of us expected, and we have no way of finding out from here.” I bite my lip, holding back my fear and anger.

  “I don’t know.” Castel sits on one of the only chairs not broken. He sighs and rests his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. “How can I know, Zanta? I promised his father I would watch out for Aurelio. I swore I would protect him, and I would help him rule a fair and just land. And now we don’t even know if he’s alive. The curse is switching which form you’re in, so we can only assume the same is happening to him. But why? Is he being tortured? Is he trapped?” Castel looks up at me. “How can I know if we need to go after him? How can I risk leaving the kingdom without a ruler, unsure whether the king will ever return? And how can I ask you to go when I swore to Aurelio that I would take care of you?” He has tears in his eyes as he asks these questions.

  I feel my emotions bubbling, the tears welling up, and the pain becoming unbearable as I think of all the possibilities. But I force myself to clench my jaw, controlling the quiver in my lips. I kneel before Castel and rest my hand on his forearm. He looks into my eyes, questioning me.

  “I don’t know the answer to any of your questions. But what I do know is that I can’t sit here and watch over a kingdom alone. I can’t wait by idly, hoping he makes it home again. I understand that you can’t leave Dracameveo. It is your place to watch over the kingdom while the king is away, but I’m not its ruler. Not yet. I will go and find him, and I will bring him home again.”

  Tears roll freely down both our cheeks. Castel takes my hand in his and squeezes it. “I believe in you, and I trust you fully, but I can’t lose you too. If Aurelio doesn’t make it, he will haunt me for the rest of my days. Besides, as it is, the people are growing restless. They want to see their king. And now their future queen has fallen ill? No, they need to know you’re well. Tomorrow, you will greet the people, and you will tell them whatever it takes to appease them. To calm them. We will find another way, my dear. If nothing else, let’s give the king more time. And if he doesn’t return soon, we will send an entire army out searching for him. But right now, we have to be strong. We have to believe he can do this because if the kingdom finds out their king isn’t sick, that he isn’t here at all, but in some faraway land who knows where, doing who knows what, there will be chaos. Mass amounts of panic and worry. And that is something we must avoid no matter what.”

  “How can I rule his kingdom when I’m not even sure he’ll come back to it?” It’s now my turn to be weak, to ask questions, to fear the worst.

  “He loves you, Zanta. He loves you more than anything. If nothing else, believe in that because he will do anything and everything to get back to you.” He cups my cheek in the palm of his hand and pulls me closer, kissing my temple as a father might kiss his daughter.

  “Thank you.” I sniffle and wipe my face on my sleeve, making a mental note to have it washed right away. “There is another matter we need to discuss.”

  “Oh?” Castel becomes attentive again.

  “Lord Waylon was lurking outside my chambers. He overheard some of what my maids said, and now he is snooping into what’s been going on. Have you told any of the council members about my situation?”

  “No, but I feel perhaps it would be wise to hold a meeting and inform them. They will want to know this. Furthermore, we can use it to dispel any thoughts Waylon is having about how he can use this to his advantage. The little weasel has no right being a part of the king’s council, but until Aurelio returns and removes him, we must deal with him on our own.”

  “Let’s hold a meeting tonight. Perhaps the other members will have an idea of what to do now. Have we thought to ask any of them if they know what Ignacio went through that could help Aurelio now?”

  “No, I don’t think we have. But I agree—we need to meet now. Get dressed and come to the council room. I will gather the others.” Castel gets up and leaves right away. I close the door and slip into a simple gown that I can easily do up on my own.

  Once I’ve pinned my hair back, I put on a pair of slippers and find my way to the meeting room. The others are already there, waiting inside for me. And only one open seat—the king’s. I sit down, forbidding myself to feel squeamish about it. I was put in charge, I am ruling now, and while I am not happy about it and the circumstances around it, I will do it proudly. I will make Aurelio proud.

  “An odd thing happened this morning. I awoke as a dragon, unable to shift back into my human form. Only moments ago did I turn back. This is why the people were told that I, too, was ill. We cannot let them know the truth because Castel and I fear what kind of reaction it will bring. Aurelio is going to return, and we just have to keep the kingdom running until then. Now, if any of you know a single thing about King Ignacio’s adventures right after being made king, speak now. If Aurelio needs help, we must send it. But how can we know?”

  I wait for a response, but everyone stares, stunned looks on their faces.

  “Speak!” I hit the table, my anger overflowing. I’m tired and alone and hating every second that Aurelio is gone.

  Everyone jumps a little. “I was here when it happened, but not as a council member,” Lady Kiamora says. “All I know is the king left for one week. He returned and acted as if nothing had happened. Castel ruled in his place. From what I can recall, it’s almost as if the people didn’t even know their king was gone.”

  “So what’s different this time? Why are they noticing? Why are so many people coming to the castle and begging to see the king?” I ask, looking at each face as I wait for someone to respond.

  “It does seem unusual, how many people have begun questioning why their king is away. Then again, claiming that Aurelio is ill may have been a mistake. Dragons do not get sick like ordinary humans. Perhaps another excuse should have been used,” Lord Oran says.

  “That still doesn’t answer my question. What’s different this time?”

  “You,” Lady Estella whispers. “You
’re different. Ignacio was not engaged when the curse affected him. Aurelio announced his engagement to you, traveled throughout the kingdoms with you to celebrate, returned with you, and woke up the next morning cursed. You are the difference between this king and the last.”

  THE PULL OF my eyelids, begging to close, the tiredness calling, demanding I sleep, is strong, so much that I get up and walk in circles just to keep moving. I don’t allow myself a moment of rest despite being cramped into such a small space. I can’t sleep. I can’t close my eyes for more than a millisecond.

  I won’t give up on Zanta. I won’t let her down like this. Not when I can keep fighting. So I walk back and forth, in circles, crisscross. Whatever it takes.

  I ignore the dizzy feeling beginning to make my eyes water and the floor tilt. I ignore the burn in my muscles, begging for relief. I’ve gone in so many circles that the wall comes at me sideways until I hit it and realize it is I who is sideways.

  I blink, trying to shake the feeling as I get back up and walk again. I walk wall to wall to keep from becoming dizzy again, but as I approach the wall, I notice something. An odd marking, something that seems familiar, something that doesn’t belong.

  I run my talon across it, ignoring the terrible sound it makes. But trying to trace it, to figure out what it could mean, I look closer and realize it’s writing. I inhale sharply and take a step back, looking more clearly at the walls as a whole picture. Where I thought there was just an odd pattern to them, truthfully, there is writing in what was once smooth, much like the lower parts of the pit.