“Can you send Phantom?”
Arcon ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the white owl. “It will take him more than a week to get there and back. If anything happened to him, I’d be out of action, and we can’t afford that right now.”
“We need to know.”
“Zim has to come back that way. Can we get them to take a look?”
“They’re cutting it fine as it is. I don’t know.” The king stared at the staff, rolling it across the table, from one hand to the other. “Can’t you do something with Second-Realm power?”
Arcon thought and then sighed. “There is something I could do, but it’s highly unethical and very dangerous.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to do it if this wasn’t important.”
“I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I’m going to have to go into the Second Realm, find a village close to Blaggard’s Bay and enter someone’s symbol. I can see what they see, hear what they hear, but I won’t have control over where they go. They may or may not feel me there. I could also be caught out if the enemy sees me in the Second Realm.”
I think you should do it. Phantom blinked from the mantle. As dangerous as it is, it’s the safest choice. At the first hint of trouble, just come back—don’t engage.
“I think you should too.” The king looked at the realmist apologetically.
“Looks like the majority wins. I’ll do it tomorrow morning, when the gormons are least active. They should all be sleeping off full bellies.” Arcon looked at the scepter still being rolled from one dragon hand to the other. “Can I borrow that? I might test it out, see what it can be used for. I’m going show it to Jazmonilly as well. Women sometimes know a lot more about things than we give them credit for. Do you know where she is?”
Valdorryn placed it in his friend’s hand. “She’ll either be in the kitchen bothering the cooks, wandering Vellonia checking on preparations for our visitors or she’ll be in the nursery thinking. She’s been up there a lot lately. Arcon, be careful.”
Arcon nodded. “Well, that narrows it down.” He laughed. “I’ll report back here tomorrow afternoon.” He turned to Phantom while hiding the long scepter under his shirt—the end of it stuck out beneath his top, but there wasn’t anything for it. “Let’s go.” The owl hopped up the offered arm. The realmist tried the kitchen first. No luck. Rather than chase her all around the castle, he called out to her, mind-to-mind. Jaz, are you around? I’ve got a question for you.
Oh, Arcon. Yes. I’m just organizing some rooms for Edmund and his family—they’ll be arriving tonight. Where do you want to meet?
Where you first saw Bronwyn.
You mean—
Yes. I’ll be waiting. There was no being “too careful.” It seemed that Leon always had the upper hand. How could he betray his own family to the gormons?
While he and Avruellen had known about the young prince’s mean streak, they had definitely underestimated it. Arcon thanked the gods that Edmund’s parents were not alive to see what was happening.
Checking to make sure he wasn’t being followed, he found his way to the underbelly of the dragon mountain. The pool where Bronwyn and Sinjenasta had been caught killing Symbothial hadn’t changed—not that he’d expected it would have.
Claws ticking on the hard ground alerted Arcon to Jaz’s arrival. Drawing power from under Vellonia, Jaz warded their conversation to natural and unnatural ears.
“I didn't know you could do that.” Arcon looked impressed.
“Zim showed me a few tricks. Have you got any information on the realmists?”
“The one we most have to watch out for is Crotus, but you already knew that. The others seem to be on our side. I’d like to talk to Agmunsten to see what he thinks, as he should know all of them. I have something else to show you. Tell me what you think.” He pulled the rod from under his shirt and gave it to Jaz.
“Oh, my goodness! This is the scepter from my coronation. What are you doing with it?”
“Valdorryn was showing it to me. Apparently Pandellen has discovered it may be more than what everyone thought. See those lines of orangey red? They reminded me of lava flows, or….”
The dragon’s eyes widened. “ . . . or the flows of power under the ground.”
“Precisely.”
“When I have to unblock the power for the spires, it always looks exactly like this. But how are we supposed to use it?”
“We need to test it. The safest place would be one of the cells.” Arcon and Jaz opened the door to the first cell in the row. Arcon grabbed a torch from the wall outside and placed it in a bracket on one cell wall.
“I’m going to channel a shield around myself, Jaz. There’s no help for it—the other realmists might be able to feel me drawing power. Can you shut the door and wait outside?”
The dragon considered his request while remembering the state Arcon had been in when he’d reached Vellonia after shielding his group for days. “Just be careful. Don't push it too far.”
“I won’t.”
Jaz stepped outside and shut the door.
After donning his protective invisible defense, Arcon sent his awareness into the scepter. Next to the chambers of red power lay empty chambers—what they would be used for, he wasn’t sure. There were four separate cul-de-sacs branching off the narrow chambers. He pushed a trickle of power into the one that led off the empty chambers, and it seemed to disappear. Carefully sending more in, he waited. Still nothing. He poured more and more in. Finally, he saw a small reserve. He stopped drawing power and watched. Nothing.
Near the head of the scepter, he found a catch, similar to a moveable wall on a dam. Hmm, if he moved it, power would come out, probably in whatever form the rod was designed for. Not wanting to push his luck, he withdrew from the scepter and opened the door.
Seeing him, the queen breathed out. “Thank Drakon you’re all right. And?”
“It seems to be able to store power—more power than any realmist could hold, maybe ten or twenty times more. It looks as if it’s designed for both Second-Realm power and Talian energy.”
“Arcon!”
“What?”
The queen waved her hands in front of him and was blinking almost as fast as a hummingbird’s flapping wings. Arcon had never, ever seen a dragon this excited before. “Look. The energy appears like threads of gold when you move it at a certain angle. And, see where it leads? To the dragon on the head of the scepter. The dragon looks like it’s holding one of the spires—see, there’s a small spiral thing on the top of the rod in its hand.”
“Could it be a portable spire? Able to zap gormons from a distance?”
“That would be most satisfying. Can I take it with me to the room tonight? When I check the spires, I’ll see how this possibly fits into it all.”
“Only if I’m there. You’ll need someone to shield you. And isn’t that room dangerous? As in, you could blow up the whole mountain if something goes wrong.”
Jaz shrugged her shiny, reflective shoulders. “I’ll be careful.”
“Shouldn’t we get Valdorryn’s permission first?”
“No. This is my decision, and he’ll only worry. We need to know what this is for. Now, I’ll go upstairs first—you follow in five minutes. I’ll see you at dinner tonight. Join Valdorryn and I.”
“As you wish.” Arcon bowed as the dragon left.
By the time he returned upstairs, chaos had erupted.
Chapter 20
Dragons rushed through the vast halls of their mountain city, some running upstairs, arms beset with linen, some going down, arms empty or carrying human-size chairs. “Excuse me,” “pardon me” and “sorry” rang throughout Vellonia as the large creatures bumped into or brushed past each other. Arcon followed the ones who were headed into the valley.
The sun, high in the sky, reflected off hundreds of dragon backs. Arcon could see Jazmonilly outshining everyone, as usual. Vellonia’s inhabitants were crowded around something, or someone, blo
cking the realmist’s view. He spied Bronwyn, Blayke and Aimee standing a little way back, watching the melee.
“Phantom, can you see what’s going on?”
The owl walked from Arcon’s shoulder to his straightened arm. The realmist raised his arm quickly to give Phantom extra lift when he launched. The white bird glided in circles above the group. It’s Edmund, Gabrielle, Pernus, Arcese, Verity and Queen Alaine.
Thanks. Arcon joined his trainees. Blayke raised his hand. “Hi. Do you know what’s going on?”
“Phantom tells me we’ve had some important arrivals.” Arcon folded his arms, his heart suddenly racing. How is this going to go? he wondered. He prepared himself and tried to ignore the nausea that circled his stomach like a shark waiting to strike. He wished Avruellen were here to stand by his side, although he was glad he would take the brunt. By the time she arrived, their red coal of anger will have cooled.
“What’s wrong, Arcon? You don’t look well.” Bronwyn put the back of her hand to his forehead.
He swiped it away. “Don’t fuss over me. I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you sit down? It’s not like you haven’t met the royal family before.” Bronwyn gave him a gentle smile.
“I said I’m fine.” He breathed deeply and swallowed the lump in his throat.
“If you say so.” Bronwyn turned back, waiting to see King Edmund and Queen Gabrielle.
A path through the dragons opened up. The royal party—both dragons and humans—finally came into view. Bronwyn gripped Blayke’s hand. “How exciting.”
He grinned. “It is, kinda. Don’t forget to curtsy.” He winked at his sister.
“Ooh, thanks for reminding me. I can just hear Avruellen getting all grumpy with me.” She laughed and imitated her aunt’s serious voice. “Bronwyn, how many times have I told you? You never listen. Boh! How are you ever going to become a realmist if you can’t obey a simple request?” They both laughed. Arcon frowned, which made them laugh more.
They managed to compose themselves as King Valdorryn, Queen Jazmonilly and Arcese led the visitors past where they stood. As soon as Edmund spied Arcon, he hurried over and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. The sympathy on his face said it all. Arcon nodded. “I hear he made us all proud.”
“Indeed he did, Arcon. A credit to The Circle. I wanted to get him out of there, but he refused. He saved my life. A true hero.”
Gabrielle’s voice grabbed Arcon’s attention. “Who do we have here?” The realmist turned to see the queen standing in front of the trio of young realmists.
Aimee answered Gabrielle, her head bowed. “I’m Aimee, Your Highness.”
“I’m Blayke, and this is my sister, Bronwyn. Pleased to meet you, Your Highness.”
Arcon’s nausea worsened, and he looked around for the nearest bush, just in case. Then he watched the queen’s face. Gabrielle tilted her head to the side. Her gaze jumped from Blayke to Edmund, back to Blayke, and then to Bronwyn—who she stared at. She wrinkled her brow and pursed her lips. Verity, who stood just behind her parents, also had her gaze fixed on them.
Bronwyn blushed under the scrutiny, afraid to meet the queen’s gaze—not sure if it was polite. When she finally looked up, her breath caught. The queen looked so familiar, and she saw recognition in Gabrielle’s eyes. “How old are you?”
The question was directed at Bronwyn. It took great effort to answer without stammering. “I’m eighteen, Your Highness.”
“And Blayke?”
Blayke wondered what she was getting at. “We’re twins.”
The queen paled and grabbed her husband’s hand. Lowering her voice, she said, “Take me to our quarters. Arcon, you will attend us. I have questions.”
The realmist bowed. “As you wish.”
Valdorryn, Jazmonilly, Queen Alaine, and even Aimee were all gawking at the twins and the King and Queen of Veresia.
After the royal party moved inside, Arcon addressed his charges. “Bronwyn and Blayke, come with me. After my meeting with King Edmund, I’m sure they’re going to want to talk to both of you.”
“What have we done?” Bronwyn felt horrified that she might have done something to offend them.
“It’s not what you’ve done—it’s who you are. Come on.” Without giving them time to ask anything else, Arcon strode into Vellonia.
Bronwyn swallowed. Was this it—was she finally going to find out who she was? She had to jog to keep up with Arcon—why were her elders always in a hurry? It was hard to think and run at the same time. She looked at Blayke, who walked quickly beside her. Was he thinking the same thing? The queen certainly had the same hair as she did, but Bronwyn hadn’t seen her own face in a mirror that often. But when she looked at Blayke, the resemblance to Edmund and Gabrielle was unmistakable. By the gods! But this stuff doesn’t happen in real life. Bronwyn couldn’t help thinking it was a cliché reserved for storybooks and fairytales and certainly too good to be true.
When they reached Queen Gabrielle’s chambers, they were made to wait outside. Blayke winced when shouting splintered through the thick doors.
Inside, Arcon stood like a cowed dog. If he’d had a tail, it would have been firmly between his legs. Gabrielle was alternating between yelling at him and crying. “So, you don’t deny they’re my children?”
Arcon shook his head.
“How could you? You stole our babies! How could you and Avruellen do this? My children! You’ve taken years from us—years we could have loved them. When I think of how I felt when I held their limp bodies in my arms for the first and last time. . . . Do they think their parents gave them away on purpose?”
“No, no, nothing like that. I’ve explained it to them. We didn’t have a choice. I’m sorry, truly sorry.”
Edmund enclosed he wife in a hug, squeezing her hard against him. “Was it really necessary, Arcon?”
“Yes. Our enemy has eyes and ears everywhere. And do you think you would have allowed your firstborn son to become a realmist? Give up his responsibilities to Veresia to be groomed for The Circle? How old would Bronwyn have been before you found her a suitable husband—if she’d have survived that long? There was no other way that we could see at the time. We waited until now to tell you because we needed them to be focused on learning as much about Second-Realm power as possible, and their lives would have been in even more danger than they already were.”
Queen Gabrielle took the handkerchief that Edmund offered and wiped her cheeks. “But why them? Surely they’re not the only candidates for The Circle.”
“There were vague mentions of them in the prophecy—or what we thought to be them. Everything matched. One of Edmund’s ancestors was a member of the original Circle. She fought in the first gormon war. The ability is strong in your family. That may be why the Laraulens were able to hold the throne for so long. Unlike a lot of the other royal families of Talia, they’ve always had strong support from the realmists.”
Verity watched the exchange. She wasn’t sure how to feel. A sister and brother she’d never known, and they were ahead of her for the throne—not that she cared overly much. For a moment, jealousy warred with guilt. She’d always had her parents’ love. How did Bronwyn and Blayke feel about that? Would they hate her? “When can we tell them the news?”
Queen Gabrielle spun about; she’d forgotten her daughter was in the room. It was the queen’s turn to feel queasy. She reached out and took Verity’s hand.
“We can do this, Mother. You know you’re the best mother ever. They’re going to love you.”
More tears tracked down Gabrielle’s face. Edmund took her other hand, and they faced the door. The king nodded at Arcon. “Send them in.”
When Arcon opened the door, Bronwyn jumped. She and Blayke had been pacing up and down the corridor, sidestepping the dragons that still rushed about Vellonia.
“You can come in now.” He held the door open and then shut it after them.
Before anyone had a chance to say anything, Queen Gabrielle stepped f
orward. She looked from one to the other, new tears following the old ones. Bronwyn and Blayke didn’t know where to look. Embarrassment that the queen was crying in front of them made it awkward, but the fact that she might be their mother, made it surreal.
Gabrielle lifted both hands and cupped one under each of her children’s chins. She ran a hand down Bronwyn’s cheek then turned to Blayke and did the same, all the while shaking her head in wonderment. “My babies. You’re so big. Last time I saw you, you were tiny.” She broke down again, and they waited patiently for her to finish crying, Edmund placing a comforting hand on her back.
Bronwyn’s eyes filled with tears to see her mother’s pain. My mother. She’s really my mother. Goose bumps played on her arms. She had waited her whole life for this. “Mother?”
Gabrielle met her gaze and smiled before grabbing Bronwyn in a hug. Bronwyn hugged her back, both women laughing and crying at the same time. Blayke stepped in and embraced them both. Edmund joined them, as did Verity.
Arcon stood to the side, tears betraying his happiness and sorrow. He had pulled them apart, but now, he had the chance to see them come back to each other. Edmund glanced up. “What are you standing over there for? Come here, Uncle.”
Arcon mouthed, Thank you and laid his arms over the family reunion.
King Valdorryn gave them some time before he reluctantly sent a messenger to Edmund. The Veresian king grabbed Arcon, and they excused themselves, leaving Gabrielle to answer Bronwyn’s many questions while Blayke chatted quietly to his younger sister, both discovering they shared the same favorite food: rice custard.
***
Queen Alaine sat next to Arcese and Pernus at the polished table in King Valdorryn’s meeting room, around which many discussions had been held of late. Grapes, cheese and bread were arranged on a silver platter in the middle of the stone top, and the queen broke off a few grapes and popped them in her mouth, one by one, enjoying the sweet juiciness.
Realm Of Blood And Fire (Book 3) Page 20