Kela fought to keep the strength in her composure. There was no place for fear when facing her grandfather. Kela promised herself she would not falter.
“You cannot be trusted,” he stated. “Moreover, you need to train to become a true Euchoun.”
“I am to be separated from my siblings,” she said. Not as a question, but a fact. “Please, Your Grace, no.”
“You will be escorted to your new home in the morning. If you disobey again, I will not hesitate to denounce your siblings.”
King Edulf walked out the door. Before the door closed to my cell, Kela felt cold inside, devastated with understanding. For she was truly frightened, not for her safety, but of being ripped from her family.
CONO
Path to Fight
Night had fallen. Cono still waited for his opportunity to talk with Kela. Despite the king’s command, for the last two months, Prince Falco had been consumed with seeing his sister. Time and time again the young prince had been denied his request.
Silas staunchly refused to help his cousin. Though he plead sympathy, Silas had no desire to incur the wrath of King Edulf, which seemed strange to Cono.
It made no sense the anger King Edulf held toward his granddaughter. Never before had he witnessed such power. He felt it when he touched the girl and had told as much to the king.
Cono had done his duty, telling the king in vivid detail of the night. Silas had concurred. The king seemed to have taken their word of the events. Yet, the girl was still imprisoned.
In his mind, he relived the fight; the attack, the fire, the girl demonstrating enormous powers to protect her family, and then, the discovery of Prince Axel’s body. There had only been one close to Axel—the Earl Marshal.
Without any training skirmish, Axel hid behind the commander with the pretense he was leading the expedition. Cono had never seen the prince during a real fight. The reason many hadn’t eyes on him during the clash.
To their discredit, neither had any noticed Prince Axel absence immediately after the conflict, consumed with the discovery of Prince Mithelk’s missing children.
Prince Mithelk had been much beloved, not only by the Wings, but by the people of Scarladin. His children returning, the two that had been acknowledged, to their people had been seen as a much needed good omen to all Sordarins.
When precisely Axel’s body had been found, Cono had no knowledge. He had already left.
There had been much that had gone wrong that night. He had never seen the Wings as disorganized as they had been after Kela exploded at them.
Feeling the need to act quickly for fear that the Brixtone had set a trap, Silas assigned Cono the honor of leading the small band back to Yucca. Excitement swirled within the Wings escorting the heir apparent, a Euchoun, and their youngest sister, whom he found out later was a magical Witheleghean. What had happened after he departed, he had no knowledge.
On his return, Silas had not confided in him, nor had he pressed Cono on the meaning of the symbol burned into his forearm. Mourning his brother, Silas sought solace by himself.
Cono silently confessed that he was relieved. He had no desire to discuss his own problems with Silas, whom now had chosen Cono to be his second. Honored by the position the Lord Silas had bestowed, his conscience gnawed at him.
So many secrets…
You have been blessed with counsel that will not come again— a bright light cometh that will not be seen. Take heed that the light does not go out. For it gives to us courage when the darkness falls…
Crazy rantings of an insane old woman! Yet, Cono could not simply dismiss the words, not with the mark burned into his forearm.
He had seen the symbol before.
In his dreams.
Bothered so about the image he kept dreaming about, that shortly before he entered the Citadel, Cono had gone to a Lanka’s seer, Allersaka. One that his grandmother had gone to many times.
Allersaka refused to see him twice. Then on the third visit, she relented and gave him entrance.
The large bosomed woman with skin as dark as night had her hair covered with a golden turban. She was dressed in a native Lanka gown, symbolized with embroidery of her clan.
The seer sat a large circular table with the only lamp in the room. He attempted to sit, but she gestured for him to stand.
“You will not be here long, Cono Lothar,” she spat. “I do not see for half-bloods.”
“I am Lanka.”
“Half-blood, I know who you are,” she proclaimed. Her eyes didn’t leave him as she sucked on a pipe with water that cooled the smoke before she exhaled it into the room.
“I have dreams…dreams that won’t go away,” Cono said. The request cut to the quick of Cono’s soul. He had never asked for help, learning long ago to only depend on himself.
Through the smoke haze, Allersaka motioned for Cono to come closer. He saw a darkness in her eyes as she stared at him.
Suddenly, he wondered if he had made a mistake in coming.
“You are right to be worried, Cono Lothar,” the seer said. “I see… your dream…and your path. Three spinning swirls on three stout branches. Three it will be. Three Realms you will face. Three Realms to be fought. Three Realms to be conquered. Three Realms to be ruled.”
Cono shook his head. “You make no sense.”
“I say only what I see,” she said placidly. A sly smile formed on her face. “Beware and take care when your path diverges. Stay true, Half-Blood, or your fate will alter…devastating those around you.”
The seer said no more, refusing Cono further audience.
Her words haunted him as did the old woman’s— It is you that has been chosen. It is you that will answer if you falter.
The meeting of the Euchoun on the same day of the warning message was not lost on him. There was a pull to the waif that he could not deny. A pull he told no one about…
“Has the king seen my sister?”
Standing on the wall walk, Cono turned to face the young prince. Falco had grown in height since his arrival. His wings had spread broad and strong. Moreover, he had shown his personality was one to lead, exhibiting poise and focus as if he was born to rule…which he was.
But now he held anger in his eyes.
Behind him, Falco had brought his man, Turstan. An old warrior, the Sordarin had done well by the young prince, teaching the Sordarin ways of battle. Falco could swing a deadly sword. Shame that Turstan’s wing had been damaged beyond repair. It was not a fate a brave warrior deserved.
“He left her minutes ago,” Cono addressed Falco with a slight bow of his head. “Unfortunately with orders not to let anyone see your sister.”
“Devil be had! Tell me what has she done to warrant such treatment? Would not anyone yearn to see their family?” Falco demanded.
“Calm yourself, Falco,” Turstan said. “It does no good to react without thinking.”
The face of the proud young prince melted for a moment. A reminder of his age.
“I won’t allow her to stay in that hell hole any longer,” Falco vowed. “I will confront Grandfather.”
“That would be unwise.” Silas emerged from the Black Tower. His face grim. “Our grandfather has his reasons. Reasons that you should trust are in all our best interests.”
Caution, young prince, Cono thought about Falco. You know nothing of the deals made behind closed doors in court. Treachery has already befallen your father. Restraint would be advised.
Do you not know that I realize this? That I would be a fool not to recognize that Silas is Fenwick’s son. That if I was not here, his father would still be crown prince…heir to the Sordarin throne?
Startled, Cono’s head snapped toward Falco, who stood with a sly smile on his face.
Fear not, brave Cono. I cannot read your mind. Only when you talk to me.
How can that be?
I’m not privy to the details of the magic within me. I can only guess that in some way when Sareta blocked my ability to Kela, it
rebounded to you.
Me? Why?
Can you not guess?
Cono stared at Falco, only reluctantly admitting he could. He still felt the power surging through him when he touch the Euchoun.
Glancing over his shoulder, he found Silas’s eyes upon him. The looks exchanged between Falco and himself had not been lost on Silas.
“Life as a royal is never easy, cousin,” Silas said to Falco. “Everything has changed since your return. Tread softly.”
“Your advice is greatly appreciated, Silas.” Falco nodded. “You are quite right that I know nothing of being a prince. I have not been recognized for most of my life. Yet, I have been with my sisters since their birth. I know them well.”
“I did not say you did not.” Silas frowned. “I say this only to help you for I know King Edulf.”
Cono was surprised by the edge to Falco’s voice, but no more so than Silas. Silas, who for years had controlled his brother to do his bidding, had found that Falco was not to be easily controlled.
“I have talked with Sareta, who expressed to me her distress on being kept from our sister. She needs Kela’s strength. She feels, also, the need of Kela. It calls to me, as well. We can’t ignore it.”
“Aye,” Turstan agreed. “All that’s in heavin! There is no call for Kela to be treated in such a manner! For what reason? King Edulf does not realize the pull the children have.”
“We are children no more, Turstan,” Falco said with a smile aimed at the man, whom had overseen his care. “I agree with Sareta. The three of us cannot be separated.”
Looking strangely at the large, burly Sordarin, Cono noticed Turstan’s wing twitched. Impossible for his wing had been crippled for years. Turstan had told Cono himself that his wing hadn’t any feeling in it since it was damaged.
There was no other movement. Cono quickly dismissed it. Instead, his attention turned to Silas.
Cono could not read Silas. The young commander had already mastered the skill of masking his emotions. Though his hands were intertwined close to his chest, telling his effort of trying to maintain his temper.
“I tell you, my cousin, that King Edulf is planning a Soaring to celebrate your return,” Silas said in a deep rasp. “Do not extend yourself to earn the ire of the king. On my word, it is for the best.”
“Why?” Cono asked. Immediately, he regretted interfering in the conversation. However once spoken, he had no choice, but to continue. “I know your word to be true. You have knowledge on why the girl is where she is.”
Falco’s eyes fell upon his cousin. “Tell me, Silas. Do not withhold the news.”
Silas considered Falco thoughtfully. “I will tell you only for you to understand there is not another way.”
“I give you my word that I will not reveal the knowledge unless my sister’s life is in danger,” Falco replied.
A long silence ensued. The winds turned brisk, cooling the night’s air. Clouds began to cover the star-filled sky. Finally, Silas said, “Euchouns are sacred beings to Sordarins. In that, there is no denying.”
“By the Great One’s decree,” Falco said in earnest. Then, his expression changed. “King Edulf is protecting Kela?”
Silas nodded. “It is a matter of the utmost delicacy. The deceitful Prince of Brixtone tricked His Majesty. When he came to King Edulf with the information of the three of you, he asked for only one thing, the hand of your sister. Kela by name. He proclaimed the union would make peace between our countries. At the time, the arrangement was deemed acceptable. King Edulf had no knowledge…or even considered the possibility that your sister was a Euchoun.”
“Now, he can’t hold to the arrangement,” Falco nodded in understanding.
“We had fended your sister ill to Prince Pieter. In truth, Kela was well looked after, allowed to see your sister at will. She had her freedom until this morning,” Silas said solemnly. “All she was asked was not to reach out to you for it was feared, rightly so, that Prince Pieter would manage to see Kela himself. She disobeyed…and it has cost her…has cost us.”
Cono had feared as much…that the Brixtone prince had his hand in this. Prince de Flour must have suspected the hoax. In turn, he had waited for an opportunity. Now, the prince would press for the king to uphold their agreement.
The defiant girl had no idea what she had done.
Anger raged inside of him followed by a strong urge to protect her. She was nothing more than a child. Petite, her long, dark hair fell down her back. Her face was all eyes, but they flamed with strength and courage.
An overwhelming sense of misery swept through him…a desperate desire… So strong, it hurt.
Cono closed his eyes. When he opened them, Kela stood before him.
KELA
Fight of Arachnidan
“Kela? What in all blue heavins has happened?”
A moment before, Kela was huddled in the corner of her prison cell, cold and dark, seething in anger against the king. She swore he was no more her grandfather for he had shown her only contempt and kept her from her family.
Heartbroken, King Edulf’s final words to her resonated deep within her. He had threatened to denounce her siblings. She held no doubt he would keep his word.
There lay her sadness, a deep melancholy that had overcome her. Then…then she found herself on Black Tower’s wall walk.
Kela looked up into Cono’s intense dark eyes which seemed to question her appearance. Yet, no more than she.
Behind Cono, she caught site of her brother and Turstan. Immediately, she ducked around the warrior, ready to run into their arms, but her joy was short-lived. Silas stood in her way.
“Halt,” Silas demanded. “What magic is this?”
“Sareta’s?” Kela guessed. “I have no answer. Perhaps, she…”
“No, she would not have.”
Silas spoke the words with a clear understanding of her sister’s passive nature. Her acceptance was Kela’s rebellion. Neither answered his question.
“Something’s not right,” Silas said. He shot a look over at Cono. “A Euchoun appearance such as this does not happen without rea…”
A strong hand grasped her shoulder. A sudden sensation gripped Kela as if she was being pulled through a vacuum. Her vision blurred. Thrust forward, she fell upon a hard stone floor.
Kela had no time to contemplate any injury. She had been propelled to a foreign place. Slowly, she stood and looked around in disbelief.
It was hot, almost suffocating.
She was in a large bedroom chamber. Someone slept in a huge feathered bed that sat quietly in the corner, while a fire blazed in the hearth. Rich, velvet curtains closed over the mammoth doors to a balcony. A desk was situated to the far end of the opposite side with two Sordarin chairs in front.
Moonlight silvered the floor encompassed by a growing fog. She saw movement within, a dark figure slinking through the haze. No more than a shadow, the monster was tall, gaunt and hard as old bones. His attention focused on the Sordarin sleeping in front of him. A Sordarin it was. In a deep sleep, she supposed for his wings were tucked in a resting position. He did not stir.
The creature slid forward into the light. Kela froze at the sight, like nothing she had ever seen before. The beast had armor as black as night, his muscles bulged in his arms and legs, an elongated neck with a tail that curled over his back exhibiting a deadly stinger at the tip.
To her horror, it had a man’s face, but nothing else suggested he was human. Most of his head was encased in the hardened armor that covered his body. Its eyes protruded from its socket, glossed over with a white sheen. Its darkened mouth drooled; its hands were as claws.
The haze faded. The creature seemed to come alive in the moonlight. Snapping its claws, it slung its long neck around.
It saw her.
“Behind me! It’s an Arachnidan!”
Stunned, she felt a strong hand shove her back. Falling to her knees, she saw Cono. He had come with her through the winded portal.
The Arachnidan seemed to revel at seeing them. Its armored head reared back, the drooling mouth expelled a heinous wail, a high piercing cry.
Cono drew out his sword from his sheath. Lifting it high over his head, he readied for battle. The creature opened his mouth to reveal two fangs pinching together, over and over again.
Bravely, Cono met the creature.
For a heartbeat, time stood still. No one moved.
With its claw, the Arachnidan swung its claw back and flung Cono off his feet against the wall. Cono laid on the floor motionless. Another cry emerged from the creature, who stared at Cono briefly before turning toward Kela.
Terror reigned. Her legs trembled. She wanted nothing more than to run away, but there was nowhere to run. She stood frozen.
The Arachnidan buckled amidst a fluttering of wings. Cono had leaped on the creature’s back, swinging his sword. With a fury, the creature fought back, snapping his claws wildly. Cono fell to the floor again. This time, it focused on Cono.
Fangs outstretched, it attacked.
Kela’s instincts responded. Fear was still within her, but fear for Cono was greater. She threw her hands out. The blast hit the creature, throwing it backwards.
It emitted a shrill, stinging howl.
Cono was freed…momentarily.
He rolled and bounded up to her side. He shouted, “Run, little one! Run!”
Her fear was deep. Yet, her instincts were stronger. She refused to move.
With his arm, he pushed her behind him. The touch sent a sensation through her, one that she had felt before when he laid his hand upon her.
The creature came snarling up, spitting a vile red gob.
Kela exploded, sending a magma blast at it. Cono needed no urging. He charged the monster. Her hand discharged another blast. This time, the creature was driven back against the stone wall, spitting wildly.
Her arms ached, but she did not relent, shielding Cono as he ran with his sword in hand. He plunged his blade straight into the creature’s underbelly. It screamed in pain, a high pitch shriek, fading into a moan of a dying soul. Its stomach gushed with a dark and slimy ooze, seeping out to the stone floor.
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