The Fallen Prince kol-2

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The Fallen Prince kol-2 Page 20

by Shea Berkley


  He looks behind him, and then back at me. “Tunnels cannot reach what isn’t there.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She couldn’t have just disappeared. My frustration climbs, and I massage the spot above my left temple.

  “To cross is to accept death.”

  Is he trying to tell me Kera is dead? A chill climbs over my body. “That’s not funny, dude.”

  “Kera went where the crack divides. Alive amid death.”

  Alive amid death? The pain in my head grows. Seriously, the guy is going to give me a brain aneurysm. “Just tell me where she is so I can go get her.”

  He blinks up at me, all innocent and sharp-edged.

  “Bodog?” I prod.

  He’s serious. He doesn’t know.

  I’m losing my patience. “Ask your friends where she is.”

  “I cannot.”

  My fingers dig into his shoulder, meeting more bone than flesh. “I’m not messing around. You’ve got to ask them.”

  He shrinks from my anger and the sound of mewling slips from his mouth. It’s then I know.

  My throat dries up, and I rasp, “They’re not here. You let them go, didn’t you?”

  “No keeping what can’t be kept.”

  A hot ache pulses in my chest. I push Bodog away and back up. I’m so angry, I can’t look at him. I know he doesn’t mean to be difficult, but he’s driving me crazy with his half answers. I feel manipulated. I had every right to believe he knew where she was. He led me to believe he did.

  “Why did you do it, Bodog? Why did you bring me here if you don’t know anything?”

  “Help is needed. Only you can fix. Much power has changed hands.”

  I throw back my head and see the sky poking through the leaves. Overhead, it’s an optimistic blue, but toward the edges of the horizon all around us, dark smoke curls, painting an ugly warning. I’d forgotten he wanted me here before Kera was taken. His goal isn’t about saving Kera. It’s about fixing what I put into motion. And why not? He helped me when I needed him the most. Why wouldn’t he expect the heir to the throne to save him along with Teag?

  He’s tossed the burden of my unwanted birthright on my shoulders, and I can’t shrug it off and do nothing without hurting him. He’s been a friend and ally when I needed one the most. He deserves my help. I shouldn’t be surprised that my problems have doubled. I can’t go back, not until I find a way to save Kera and Bodog.

  Damn it, and Jason.

  I whip around and ask, “Kera’s kidnapping and what’s been going on in Teag are connected. I’m sure of it. Think. Why was she taken?”

  “Bait.”

  “And I followed like they knew I would. But why do they want me?”

  “They do not.”

  For a second I don’t get it, and then it hits me. “Whoever it is wants me dead. Just like Jason wants me dead.”

  Bodog sniffs the air. The trees creak in the wind, twisting and swaying their limbs, pushing the scent of pine, earth, and burning village toward us. Bodog’s skin pulses between a dark brown and faded nutmeg color. He only does that when he’s scared. He’s not strong enough for what’s about to happen, not like he was before.

  A battle is brewing. It’s already begun. The nature of it will destroy Bodog. Even though he’s scared to death, he’s stepping out there and putting his life on the line for me. It immediately becomes clear. I’m the one who tracked him down. I’ve got to let him go.

  I step back. “Go underground where you’re safe. I’ll figure this out.” I start toward the village, but the crunch of dried leaves has me turning around. Bodog stops, his face peeking out from the layers of fabric he’s swimming in.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You go the wrong way.”

  A frown slips between my eyes. I know exactly where the village is. “I don’t need a guide. You can go. No hard feelings, dude.”

  I move ahead, but I still hear his footsteps behind me, though he’s making an effort to walk quietly. A second later, his hand clamps on to my arm and he tugs me in a different direction. I try to shake him off. “Stop. I don’t need you.”

  “Bodog sees what is not there, knows places few will go. The one you need is not where you seek. Trust me.”

  Trust. It’s something I have a difficult time doing. “And you know this because…”

  “The dead never lie.”

  At the mention of dead things, I scrunch my eyes shut and try not to groan in frustration. Even though the path is clear to me, Bodog sees it differently. Why does he always see it differently?

  He tugs harder. “Come.”

  I sigh and turn in the direction he’s pulling. He knows Teag and its inhabitants better than I ever will. And I have to admit, once he decides to help, he gets the job done. I consider his earnest yet gaunt face and bony too-big-for-his-body hands, and a flash of guilt heats my cheeks. “You know it’s going to get bad.”

  He nods. “People will die. What has been will no longer be.”

  “Well,” I say, sarcasm oozing, “that’s not at all ominous-sounding. Can’t wait.”

  I lick my suddenly dry lips. Teag and its ever-present threat of death is starting to really annoy me.

  Waiting For Trouble

  Pulling information out of Bodog isn’t easy, but when I piece it all together, I know he’s taking me to the tainted, a breed of firsts who have some portion of human blood. For some reason he thinks they know where Kera is. If they’re the ones who were slaughtered in the fight to kill Navar, I wonder how willing they’ll be to help us. If I were them, not very.

  Getting to the tainted isn’t easy. Bands of rogue firsts are everywhere. We manage to avoid them, and when we finally stop walking, I naturally think we’ve arrived.

  I would be wrong.

  For two long minutes Bodog stands, his arms hanging at his side, his head bowed.

  I can’t wait any longer and ask, “Are we there?”

  “No.”

  “Are we lost?”

  “No.”

  He drops to the ground in an imitation of a pile of dirty laundry. And a smelly pile at that.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Tired.” He sends me a pathetic look. “Hungry.”

  It’s not like I’m a callous person, but flopping down in the middle of the forest doesn’t seem to be the smartest choice. “I don’t think we should stop here.”

  He doesn’t listen. Big surprise. Slowly, he inches along the ground, his ears twitching like twin radars.

  I know when I’m defeated. With just a thought, I produce a tart green apple and survey our immediate area. I’ve got to pee. The night air isn’t exactly cold, but I’m not thrilled about exposing my man parts to take a leak. In this place anything can jump out and bite you.

  I stretch out on the ground, ticking away the minutes and shooting Bodog nasty looks he chooses to ignore. “When I’m done with this apple, we leave, okay?” He doesn’t even acknowledge that I’m here. I take a big bite. There’s no talking to Bodog when he gets an idea in his head.

  I can’t believe I’m being held hostage by a diminutive garbage disposal. While I munch on my apple, he scours the area for all manner of creepy-crawly things he can shove into his mouth. Like popcorn. As he eats, he plumps around the edges until he’s more like the Bodog I know. Nothing is off-limits as a viable food choice, made clear when he sniffs out a dead rabbit hidden within the bushes and eats it though it’s been dead for God knows how many days and smells like chunky milk and farts.

  I point at him. “That’s disgusting, dude. Don’t even think about coming near me.”

  A burp ripples from his throat, soiling the air I breathe, and I toss my apple core at him. He eats that, too.

  He stays an acceptable distance from me and begins to pull up chunks of grass and debris.

  I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. “Tell me again why we’re here? Sitting. Doing nothing.”

  The little guy continues to dig, not
giving me an answer.

  “We can’t stay. Jason’s going to find us lollygagging around and turn all schoolyard bully on me again. I’m not interested in joining whatever payback game he’s playing. I mean, I’m happy he’s alive, but you tell me. Did he look happy to see me?”

  Bodog finishes what I can only call a nest and burrows in until all I can see are the tips of his ears and a patch of thin hair. “Worry never solves problems,” he says and yawns.

  “Did you read that in a book called Sayings That Are Complete Crap? Seriously, not helpful. Do you know what would be helpful? You getting up and—”

  A snore rips into the air.

  “Bodog?” Another explosive inhalation rocks the ground beneath me. He’s like a seismic event. Easily a 2.6 on the Richter scale.

  I turn my back on him and curl into myself.

  Don’t worry. Right. Easy for someone to say who doesn’t have a hulking wrestler out to rip his head from his body.

  A little magic, and I have a leaf blanket. It’s not soft, but it’s something to ward off the chill. When I let my guard down, Kera’s cries for help rattle my head. I try to calm her, but it’s like she can’t hear me.

  I don’t know how long I lie there imagining all sorts of horrible scenarios Kera could be going through. I debate whether or not I should contact her through my dreams, but sleeping isn’t really an option. Jason is still out there. Hunting.

  I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he’s using magic and doing it well. Someone has to be helping him, and for some odd reason, he thinks killing me will make him stronger. He needs a serious reality check. Only the king of Teag can collect power that way…and me, but I don’t want to think about that disturbing perk to my new status.

  It’s suddenly too quiet. I turn toward Bodog. He’s not snoring anymore. His ears are twitching like little radars. Suddenly, he spikes into a sitting position, his eyes huge.

  I rocket upright. “What?” I whisper, instantly on edge.

  From out of the darkness materializes a boy, a short dagger in hand. He waves it in my direction. “First or friend?”

  Bodog stands and raises his big knobby hands. His ears twitch and his body turns glow-in-the-dark white. And why not? I’ve always believed nothing says nonthreatening like a vertically challenged, facially unattractive albino dude.

  If ever I’ve met a kid who would stab me in my back while I slept, this boy is him. Messy hair, dirt-encrusted skin, ragged clothes, and a glower that could kill on contact if he had the magic to back it up, which I’m pretty sure he doesn’t. And I thought I had trust issues. I’m cartoon-character friendly compared to this kid.

  “Why does it have to be one or the other?”

  “I ain’t stupid. Drop your weapons.” The kid has balls, but his high-pitched command kind of ruins the scary effect.

  “I don’t disarm for anyone. Besides, if I want you dead, I don’t need a weapon to do it. Trust me on that.”

  I guess he does, because he doesn’t repeat his demand. “I’ve been following you for a while. You lost?”

  “Not exactly. I think we’re looking for you and your friends.”

  “I don’t have any friends.”

  I believe him.

  Bodog begins that obnoxious muttering as he leans heavily on his stick, and the boy’s frown deepens. “Who are you and what do you want?” His stance tightens like a string holding a kite. One wrong move and he’ll snap.

  “Listen, we don’t want any trouble. Have you seen Kera of Teag?”

  A smug smile tilted his lips. “All the Keras around here are from Teag.”

  I’m losing my patience fast. “She’s from a nearby village. Her father is Lord Hadrain.”

  “You refer to Kera from Ainsbury Cross.”

  “Yeah. I think that’s the village. We were told one of the tainted knows where she is. I need to find her.”

  His smug expression disappears. “We don’t use that word. What do you want with Kera?”

  “I’m her friend. Her good friend. Dylan.”

  The boy’s stance instantly relaxes and he slides his gaze over me. “You are the heir to Teag?”

  He didn’t have to sound so disappointed. “Yeah, whatever. All I want is to find Kera and take her home.”

  “Last I heard, she went back to the human realm. Maybe you should look there.”

  “She was kidnapped. Brought back to Teag by some monstrous flying bird/lizard thing. Looks right out of the Jurassic age.” His eyebrows do a very adult “you’re crazy” arch at me, and I shake my head. “I don’t care if you believe me or not. Bodog’s dead friends said you all know where she is. I just need to find her. It’s that simple.”

  “Doesn’t sound simple to me. Sounds like you’re thick in the head and love-bit. That happens to your kind.”

  “Love-bit?” Like my soul has been infected with love? It fits how I feel. Only Kera’s love makes me feel whole. “I guess that’s it. So, are you going to help me?”

  “I don’t know where she is.”

  Not what I wanted to hear. Why is everyone around here ignorant of what’s happening? I twist away and start pacing, and grumbling. “Innocent people get killed in your backyard…isn’t it a lovely day? Dark souls tear up your village…let’s have a cup of tea and all will be fine. Kera’s kidnapped by a gigantic flying dinosaur…oh look, the sunflowers are blooming.” They’re all freakin’ ostriches with their heads buried shoulder-deep in the sand.

  “You always talk to yourself?”

  “Nope, it’s new.” This place is making me as crazy as Mom.

  The boy’s face changes from irritated to slightly annoyed. He stashes his dagger and says, “I don’t know where she is, but I think I know someone who does.”

  Not Alone

  Darkness pressed in on Kera. Her limbs struggled to move. She tried to shift, but something prevented her. Even her eyelids resisted the command to open. A soft voice sang, lulling her into a portal where dreams floated by. All she needed to do was touch one, which she did, and she spiraled into the dream with a speed that left her breathless.

  When her head stopped spinning, she opened her eyes to find herself in a large, mirrored ballroom. Dozens of her reflections filled her vision. She was dressed in an exquisitely made ball gown of deep blue, though her corset fit so tightly, she couldn’t take a deep breath.

  Before her stretched a table, beautifully laid and groaning with food. A softly painted fresco depicting various birds and flowers covered each wall. Colonnades supported an arched ceiling. Lively music filled the air, and a court of men and women danced on a polished marble floor at the opposite side of the room. Tiny lights overhead and meticulously shaped greenery decorated the room, giving the impression they were outside in a perfectly groomed garden underneath a star-studded night sky. The vision should have made her smile. It didn’t. She didn’t know this place. She didn’t know these people.

  She spied a door along the side wall. Nothing stood in her way but the table and one lone man. He lounged in an ornate chair at the head of the table, his silver vest, elaborately tied ascot, dark jacket, and trousers fitting him to perfection. He was handsome, in that brooding way that reminded her of Dylan. As she moved along the table, she peeked in his direction and noticed his attention never wavered from her.

  Rounding the table, she faced him and he raised his hand, a gesture that bespoke authority. She hoped he was signaling someone else, but no one else stood nearby. The man smiled and waved her closer.

  She eyed the door. What if she sprinted to it? Would anyone stop her? No one seemed interested in what she was doing except the man at the head of the table. She turned to find the man in front of her, a hairbreadth away. “Please stay, Kera. There is no reason to run off.”

  “Who are you?”

  “You may call me Baun.”

  So that was the reason he seemed so familiar. “Are you Dylan’s father?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you are imprisoned.�
� She looked again at their surroundings. It was then she noticed the couples dancing. They literally floated, their translucent wings fluttering as they moved. The pux like she had never seen them before. “How…?”

  Baun took her hand and led her to his chair, where another magically appeared. “Truly beautiful in the size you’ve envisioned them, and if you knew them like I do, it is slightly terrifying. In dreams, anything is possible.”

  She was dreaming? Then none of this was real. “Why am I here?”

  “You tell me. Dreams are funny that way. No rhyme or reason to them. Please sit.”

  Kera wished he’d let go of her hand, but he held fast. Smiling, he nodded to the chair. “Please, sit with me. I ask only for a moment. Then you can do whatever you wish.”

  A ribbon of doubt hovered, but she had little choice. Turning, she sat, glad to have her hand back, and smoothed her gown. It felt like running her hands over water.

  He sat, though his body didn’t relax. “I sense your conflict. You have the abilities you’ve always dreamed of, but they are only temporary.”

  He wasn’t making sense. “How so?”

  “Did Dylan not tell you?” A sadness peaked his eyebrows. “Both you and he cannot possess the same magic. It’s never been done.”

  Her father had shared his magic with her for years to keep others from finding out she had none…though it was never permanent. Her chin inched up. “Just because it has never been done does not mean it is impossible.”

  “I fear you give too much weight to chance. Let me speak frankly. Dylan will take your powers from you. He must. They are his.”

  “I thought they were yours? That Navar had somehow stolen them from you.”

  His face darkened. “Once given, no power can be taken back…not without certain measures.”

  She didn’t know what measures he was talking about. He wasn’t making any sense. “Are you saying you gave a portion of your powers to Navar? Why would you do that?”

  “I am not so evil as many would believe. I did it for the good of Teag. And for my generosity, I was betrayed just like your father and everyone else. By the time Navar’s true motives were known, it was too late.”

 

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