by R. K. Ryals
Gryphon had walked away then, his own emotions warring in his face. My true father never approached me.
With night came my isolation in Cadeyrn’s room, my gaze on the wall as the prince paced his chamber, his hard eyes always watching. The second evening, I noticed a chess board. It wasn’t much, but I’d always loved matching wits with Aigneis and the novice scribes at Forticry, and I’d challenged Cadeyrn to a game. It had stopped his pacing. We’d sat across from each other, each of us silent as we moved our pieces. He’d won, but I’d challenged him to a good game. The prince had amazing strategic abilities, his knowledge astounding. My company seemed to ease him. I wasn’t sure what his company did for me, but his friendship made me feel safe even though I knew being seen with him was more a risk than anything.
And then there was Gabriella, Cadeyrn’s betrothed. Something about her made me uneasy, her glares as I walked the palace halls with the prince were deadly. We never spoke, never interacted in any way, but I could hear her fits at night from Cadeyrn’s room. His head would lift when they came, his sighs long when they ended. Life with her would not be an easy one.
The betrothal ball was to be a big event, and Maeve and I were recruited—along with everyone else in the palace—to clean or embroider. Even discovering I was the daughter of the Sadeemian minister of government had not raised my rank. I was glad of it. I enjoyed the servants’ chatter, enjoyed going down to the courtyard in the afternoon with Daegan and Maeve to see Cadeyrn’s soldiers train.
Watching the warriors parry with swords was a favorite pastime for the noblemen and women who came to stay in the palace. They stood outside a stone training ring, clapping for the victors and screaming encouragement.
Even Cadeyrn fought, stepping into the ring with his impossibly heavy sword; his expression even, his eyes cold. It was his fighting face. There was never any fear in his eyes, never any weakness. Only the strongest men, and those who didn’t know much about Cadeyrn’s prowess, dared challenged him. Maidens leaned over the wall, their eyes wide, their handkerchiefs waving, interest evident in their gazes. Gabriella reveled in it, wearing her most form fitting gowns while blowing kisses at the prince. He ignored them all.
Cadeyrn was a marvel in the ring. I had never seen fighting like the kind he did. There was never any mercy. But in the end, Cadeyrn always shook the hands of his opponents. He never boasted, just fought silently before walking away upon its conclusion.
There were archery competitions, too. Even noblewomen shot their bows toward close targets and cheered if it hit the center. I shuddered. The red bull’s eye reminded me of blood, reminded me of arrows protruding from human flesh.
Gabriella had challenged Maeve and I with her bow, but I’d refused, walking away with my head held high. I wouldn’t shoot a bow for sport anymore. I’d been forced to do it as Garod’s daughter. Now it seemed wrong to challenge maidens who’d never shot to kill.
Cleaning, sewing, and swordplay ... for two days, this was the way of things until the night of the ball. For two days, there was peace.
Chapter 30
“We shouldn’t have to attend this thing,” Maeve complained. She pulled at her gown before tugging on the brown cloak we’d been forced to wear over them.
Cadeyrn had enlisted the help of the royal mages, getting Daegan, Maeve, and I admission into the mage academy with training to commence once it was peaceful enough to do so. Until then, we were still Medeisian rebels; good enough to trust with a war, but still dangerous enough we couldn’t be left alone. Hence the reason we were being forced to attend the prince’s betrothal ball not as guests but as faux scribes, all of us donning brown cloaks with hoods pulled up over our heads.
“It’s only one night,” I answered while fingering the cloak. I liked the brown material. It reminded me of the forests, of the cloaks we’d donned when the snows came.
“The longer you stand here, the longer the night will be,” Daegan pointed out as he moved past us, heading down the marble staircase. We followed, Madden and Ryon at our backs. We’d gotten used to the guards shadowing us. Sometimes, I’d even forget they were there.
Lochlen fell in beside me, his brown hood hiding his strange eyes. Oran was left above stairs. It bothered me that the wolf couldn’t attend, even if I did understand the reasoning. I’d only agreed after Cadeyrn promised his chamber door would be left cracked open, a guard in the hall.
Music surrounded us as our feet touched the landing, the sound of instruments being plucked and pounded at as we rounded the corner invading my thoughts. The ballroom was magnificent, gleaming from the light of multiple flames burning in large chandeliers full of murky liquid. I stared at them.
“It’s lamp oil,” Madden said from behind me. When I looked back at him, he shrugged. “I’ve noticed you looking at it often over the past couple of days. It’s a type of liquid that creates fire rather than dousing it.”
I smiled my thanks, my gaze going back to the ballroom. Women in full, colorful gowns and glowing jewels twirled around the room with men in wrinkle-free tunics covered in magnificent surcoats. A table full of refreshments sat along the back wall, next to a group of minstrels who sang and strummed heavily on harps and other instruments. I wasn’t used to music, and even though the sound wasn’t a bad one, I wasn’t sure I liked it. The melody drowned out the trees’ whispers beyond the courtyard, leaving me feeling vulnerable and afraid.
Lochlen and Daegan led us around the room’s perimeter, and we mingled with the other scribes and mages as they did the same, their eyes on the revelers. There was a rejoicing cry when the king entered, his queen on his arm. Behind him, Arien marched, his own wife clutching his sleeve, her delicate arms covered to the elbow with white silk gloves.
Cadeyrn entered next, his only concession to the event a black coat he wore over his usual white tunic and black trousers. His hair was tethered behind his neck, his watchful gaze constantly searching the room. It put me at ease, even when the crowd cheered once again as Gabriella entered from a door opposite the prince. She was led up onto a dais dominated by the royal family, resplendent in a blue, jeweled gown and silk gloves. She met Cadeyrn in the center and Freemont lifted their hands above his head.
“To the betrothed!” the king declared.
He joined their palms, and the crowd exploded. Chalices were lifted and emptied, handkerchiefs were waved, and cheers rose up to the ceiling. Two liveried soldiers pulled open double wooden doors at the end of the room, opening the ballroom up to a beautiful, manicured garden beyond. I saw trees there, their dark shapes fluttering in the navy blue sky, a crescent moon and a sprinkling of stars behind them.
The crowd mingled, some of them spilling out into the gardens beyond, dancing around torches that sat along cobblestone paths. I eased around the ballroom, my eyes on the doors.
“I sense something,” Lochlen said suddenly from my elbow, his hand going to my arm.
I looked up at him.
“Sense something?” I asked.
He nodded.
I strained my ears, attempting to hear the trees beyond the music and failed. My feet moved forward, my gaze on the sky and my eyes more alert. It was then I saw it, the dark shape that flew suddenly in front of the moon and then away from it again.
I looked back at Lochlen. When his gaze met mine, I knew he’d seen it as well.
“That wasn’t a dragon,” I said.
Lochlen shook his head.
I walked faster, my feet pounding on the stone walkways beyond.
“Wyvers!” the trees yelled suddenly.
My heart filled with ice, my gaze frantic as I searched for Maeve, Daegan, Lochlen, and Cadeyrn.
“Wyvers!” I yelled.
Lochlen heard me and went running, using magic I’d never seen him use before to speed through the crowd toward the training field beyond. Weapons. We needed weapons, and he knew it.
Maeve and Daegan joined me just as Madden and Ryon did. The guards’ faces were red, their eyes flashing
with anger.
“Wyvers!” I told them.
My yell was loud, hysterical even, but I’d seen the creature in the sky, and I had heard the trees.
“Oran!” I screamed.
I had no idea if the wolf heard me, but I wasn’t leaving him above stairs in the chaos.
“Wyvers!” I yelled again.
Noblemen and women stared up into the sky, many of them clutching their throats as they backed toward the palace.
They weren’t moving fast enough.
Madden and Ryon had pulled their swords, the tips going to my back. I didn’t fight them, but I did beg them with my eyes.
“The wyvers wouldn’t leave the desert,” Madden said.
I shook my head. I knew what I saw.
“Lower your weapons,” Cadeyrn’s voice commanded, and I watched as he stalked into the courtyard. His eyes were on the sky as he pulled off his coat and dropped it to the ground, holding his sword to his side.
“There are wyvers here,” I told him.
His gaze moved to mine before going to the sky. I knew he would believe me, his ability to discern lie from truth making it easy to persuade him.
Lochlen returned then, two swords in his hands, a bow and quiver on his back. Noblewomen screamed when they saw him, turning to rush into the ballroom, their faces white with terror.
“What madness is this?” Gabriella screamed, her voice livid. “She’s ruining the ball!”
“There are four of them, Phoenix,” the trees said.
I took the bow from Lochlen, slinging the quiver on my back before pulling an arrow.
“There’s four of them,” I told Cadeyrn.
He nodded and moved to my back, far enough from me he didn’t impede my ability to grab arrows.
“Gather the men!” Cadeyrn ordered.
I could hear the king’s voice, but Cadeyrn’s booming yell overwhelmed his.
“Get everyone inside now!” the prince commanded.
My sense of urgency rose even as Cadeyrn’s warrior’s obeyed his orders. The women were moving too slow, the men too desperate to get a look at the sky to get inside quick enough.
In the end, we were too late.
Chapter 31
The first wyver landed on the castle wall; his red eyes eerie in the dark, his large, barbed tail swinging into the garden below.
The screams that followed were deafening. The wyver’s eyes met mine, his pupils glowing as he opened his mouth, baring his teeth to the crowd. Lochlen transformed, throwing his golden body into the air, his yellow-green gaze on the beast below him.
“You dare come into human territory, cousin,” Lochlen roared.
The wyver laughed. “I do serve a human king after all.”
Cadeyrn stepped forward. “I take it then that this is your king declaring war on mine,” he said.
The wyver’s red gaze rested on the prince. “He has been planning one for a long time.”
Anger coursed through my veins as I stared at the creature; anger at its stupidity, its barbaric need to kill, and the role it played in Kye’s death.
I pulled back on the arrow in my hand.
“He attacks now, then?” the prince asked. “Where are the human warriors? Or is he a coward, sending beasts to die instead of men?”
Another wyver landed on an opposite castle wall, its jaw dripping saliva.
“Oh, he doesn’t attack yet,” the wyver answered. “In due time, prince. Tonight, we come for the girl, the one who stood before a king as the boy named Sax.”
“And if we refuse?” Cadeyrn asked.
The wyver grinned, his teeth white in the torchlight. “Then we feed.”
I stepped forward even as Cadeyrn grabbed my arm.
“You go now, and it will win the war for Raemon,” the prince hissed.
“And if I don’t, people will die,” I countered.
“A few deaths tonight will be nothing compared to the massacre that would come if he used you against us.”
I stared at Cadeyrn. His face was stern when he leaned in. “We fight,” he insisted.
I nodded, and Cadeyrn turned to the wyvers. “We refuse,” he said flatly.
The wyver shrieked, the squeal so loud most of the people surrounding us covered their ears, going down on their knees as the creatures swept into the garden, their tails swinging.
“Shut the doors!” I screamed. “Shut the doors!”
Guards went running, dragging people into the ballroom before struggling with the doors as the wyvers continued to shriek. I caught a glimpse of silver fur as Oran moved into the night, and I prayed silently to Silveet as Daegan and Maeve lifted their swords.
“Go for their tails,” I told them. “It will kill them.”
It was the last thing I was able to say before the courtyard exploded in chaos. I ducked as the wyvers’ tails swung, their talons flashing through the torchlight. I saw a guard lifted from the walk, his screams loud as the wyver punctured his heart with his talon.
I lifted my bow, pulling the arrow taunt before releasing it, watching as it pierced the end of the creature’s barb. The wyver screamed before going to the ground, its shriek deafening.
Two guards lay on the ground before me, their bodies convulsing, multiple stings on their legs and chests.
I swallowed the bile that rose up in my throat, my eyes going to the sky as Lochlen dove, using his massive body to pull one of the wyvers from the air. They went down rolling, Lochlen’s fiery breath fanning the wyver’s face before he took the creature’s barbed tail in his talons, squeezing until it exploded. The wyver quit moving.
Cadeyrn stood over a third wyver, his sword having severed the end of its tail, his eyes lifting as the ballroom beyond filled with terrifying shouts.
“It’s inside!” someone yelled.
I pulled an arrow, my eyes meeting Daegan and Maeve’s before we went running toward the palace. The fourth wyver still lived, standing tall on two feet in the center of the ballroom, his talons cracking the marble as he swung his tail. The beautiful gowns the women had worn impeded them now, slowing them down as the wyver dug his barb into several of the guests.
I lost my battle with the bile in my throat, and I swallowed the hot liquid that rose as I stopped Daegan, placing my hand on his shoulder long enough to grab his sword, using its blade to slit through my skirts. I handed it back to him, my eyes full of anger.
“Stop!” I screamed as I entered the room, pulling back the hood of my brown cloak, my gaze on the wyver.
The creature paused, his red eyes finding my face.
“Come with me,” he said, “and this will end.”
I shook my head. “No,” I responded, “It’s just begun.”
I pulled an arrow from my quiver, stringing it on my bow, my eyes narrowed.
The wyver laughed. “Do you think I am as stupid as my brothers?” he asked.
“I do,” I answered calmly.
I had found my killing place; the one Kye, Maeve, Daegan, and Brennus had told me about, where I’d seen them go to when they needed to kill and not feel. I’d found it.
Cadeyrn stepped up next to me, but I waved him away. “Let me have this one,” I said.
He saw the look in my eyes and stepped back. This was my vengeance, my war with the creatures who’d stolen Kye’s life.
The wyver spread his wings, flying up toward the ceiling before sweeping once more through the ballroom doors. I followed him.
“I can kill many from the air, girl,” he called out.
Lochlen landed in the courtyard and lowered his head, his green eyes meeting mine. It was the only invitation I need.
“As can I, wyver,” I answered as I swung myself over Lochlen’s neck, my skirts parting over my legs where I’d sliced them with Daegan’s sword.
The dragon roared before kicking off of the ground, his tail fanning behind him. His spines dug into my thighs, but I barely noticed them as I gripped my bow.
“Don’t let me fall, Lochlen,” I
begged the dragon.
His head swung back. “I’d catch you if you did,” he answered.
I leaned over and kissed the scales on his neck before stringing my bow. He circled the wyver, and I watched as the beast looked up at us, his red pupils now dilated and uncertain.
“Leave now,” I called out, “and I won’t kill you.”
The wyver grimaced. “Never!”
He dove, and Lochlen dove with him. I dropped the arrow trying to hold on, cursing as I reached for another.
“I only have so many of those!” I scolded the dragon.
A rumble ran through my legs as he laughed. “Then make them count.”
I scowled before stringing the next arrow, my eyes searching the sky. A shriek made me duck, and Lochlen rolled to protect me from the wyver’s barb. I fell off his back, shoving the arrow into my mouth to keep from losing it as I tried desperately to catch his tail. I missed, watching in horror as my quiver emptied to the ground below. I fell. There was no time to scream.
Suddenly Lochlen was there, his massive body catching mine, and I gripped him before jerking the arrow’s shaft from my lips.
“Don’t ever do that again!” I yelled at him.
I felt the rumble in my legs again.
“You laugh now,” I said, “but that left me with one arrow.”
His gaze swung to mine. “Then really make it count, and if it doesn’t, I’ll kill him.”
“He’s mine, Lochlen,” I protested.
The dragon just laughed again, swinging around so that we faced the wyver, his tail plunging into the creature’s gut. It slung the beast backward, and I strung the bow, pulling back on it quickly as the wyver’s barbed tail lifted into the air. It was dark, and I knew my aim would be off.
“Hit him again,” I ordered. “Send him near the torches.”
Lochlen complied, diving before pulling around the creature, using his tail to send him spiraling toward the courtyard. I took my chances, my eyes narrowed, waiting until the feeble light lit up the wyver’s barbed tail as he plummeted. I took my shot.