The Lion's Crypt (The Emberlyn Chronicles Book 2)

by Michael K. Rose

  “Can I say anything now? Read anything?”

  “Your language skills are still basic. But I expected it to take twice as long for you to get this far. Perhaps in another week, you will attain fluency.”

  “Another week?” Penny shook her head. “Is nothing impossible with magic?”

  Anneli nodded. “Yes, some things are impossible, even with all the magical prowess in the world. As far as we know, at least.”

  Penny closed the book in front of her. She sensed they wouldn’t be reading any further. More and more, she was beginning to understand what people were thinking or feeling. She couldn’t read direct thoughts, but she could get an idea of what those thoughts were about.

  “You’re referring to Lanioc,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  Penny glanced casually around the library and across the tome-filled, ceiling-high shelves. When she had first glimpsed the library and all its ancient books, she’d expected everything to be covered in layers of centuries-old dust. But although the books were fragile, they had been kept well. This room contained the collected history of the Lanosh, a treasure worth far more than the precious objects locked away in the tower along with the Lion’s Crown.

  The room reflected the sacred way with which the Lanosh viewed knowledge. Each tome was carefully lined up; no books were stacked one on top of another or put away backwards or with their spines protruding from the shelf. One section held scrolls, the oldest texts in the library, and each was protected by a cloth sheath with a parchment label hanging from it, describing the contents. All the lamps were secured to the tables, unable to be moved or tipped over, and none were placed where the soot rising from them could get on the books. If people needed more light among the shelves, they were expected to cast magical light orbs that didn’t produce any heat or give off any fumes. Finally, on the outer wall, six tall, narrow stained glass windows stretched from floor to ceiling, protecting the books from direct sunlight and bathing the library in a diffuse multicolored glow that reminded Penny of the light coming off the Vortex of Understanding.

  “All the knowledge of our people is here, but it is incomplete,” Anneli said, picking up on Penny’s line of thought. “I told you about King Uriac’s discovery.”

  “Yes. He saw Lanioc’s body in his crypt, even though his sarcophagus should have been empty.”

  Anneli reached up and toyed with the pendant around her neck. “Lanioc’s body was unmoving, without pulse or breath, but unaffected by death. Some of the elders believe he is still alive. And if magic can bring back the dead, then perhaps nothing is impossible after all.”

  “What about Dourok?” Penny asked. “How has he stayed alive for two thousand years?”

  “That requires a special sort of magic—a twisted magic. It’s a combination of destruction and healing. You’ve seen how the Dourosh look… their skin is hard, dry, cracked… darkened, like that of a mummified corpse—although I don’t expect you’ve seen one of those. This is because they are dying. Few Dourosh live for more than thirty or forty years. Dourok’s magic—what we call his corruption—takes the life from them and gives it to him. Everything we’ve learned indicates that he has unnaturally accelerated the growth process of those who would become his soldiers. They age twenty years in ten, fight for him over the next two decades of their lives and then die when their bodies can no longer withstand the strain. It’s why so many of them are unskilled, relying instead on brute force. They are, essentially, children. It’s worse for Dourosh women. From the time they are able, they are permitted to do nothing but bear and raise their young. There is no marriage, no partnerships. Any Dourosh soldier is free to take any woman he likes.”

  Penny lowered her eyes to the leather cover of the book. “How’d he get so powerful? How’d he learn the magic to do this?”

  “That knowledge is here,” Anneli said, gesturing at the library. “We know of many spells that compassion will not permit us to use. Dourok has no compassion. He does what pleases him without any concern for others.”

  Anneli reached across the table and placed her hand on top of Penny’s. “If I had seen that you did not have compassion, I would have told you nothing—taught you nothing. A great magical affinity, by itself, does not make for a great leader. Men follow Dourok because they must, because they are lied to. From birth they are told that there is no other way but his. But a true leader, one worthy of respect, lets men choose to follow her. That does not happen without compassion.”

  Penny frowned. She didn’t know exactly how things worked in Lanion, but in Emberlyn it seemed that an awful lot of men, throughout history, had chosen to follow evil leaders.

  “We don’t always have a choice, even when we think we do,” Anneli said, reading her thoughts. “Circumstances force more upon us than we realize. The free choices we seem to make are rarely truly free.”

  “Are mine?”

  Anneli shook her head. “No. You have less choice than most. That spark of magic within you has marked you for great things. That does not mean that all of your choices have already been made for you, but many have, as they have for me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve grown stronger since using the Lion’s Crown. It nearly killed me, but I’ve come through it with more control of my powers. This fact, plus the knowledge that the Dourosh may be doing something different up in the North Wood, means that I can no longer command my armies from the safety of the palace. I can do more good for my people on the field of battle, should a battle come. I would not leave Lanion if it was under threat, of course, but wherever we next encounter the Dourosh, I must be there.”

  Penny got a flash of a thought from Anneli. “You’re coming with me when I go to Lanioc’s crypt.”

  “I am. I feel I will be needed, either to help you inside the crypt, if I’m allowed to enter, or else to keep you safe while you do what must be done.”

  “Do you think Dourok knows anything? About me or about our plans to get the sword?”

  “He knows about you, yes, but we don’t know what he knows about you. Still, if he were nearby, I would know it. I would feel his corruption. So as long as he is far away, either in the west or the north, he cannot do anything to harm you. There are patrols all across this part of the forest watching for large movements of Dourosh. We’ll know if they’re planning an attack.”

  “What if he somehow hides his army the way he did when they attacked the mountain pass?”

  Anneli frowned. “I still don’t know where he got the power to conceal an entire army, but I doubt he can do that again. If he could, he’d have hidden the second army that attacked from the west as well.”

  Penny looked at the amulet around Anneli’s neck. She didn’t know if it was magical or not, but it gave her a thought. “Could Dourok have found a powerful magical object?”

  “I have considered that. Not all of the lost objects are recorded, so one may have held a very powerful invisibility spell. Or perhaps it’s simply that he’s had long centuries to grow his powers. We Lanosh live a hundred years at most. How can that compare to two millennia of magical development? Dourok need do nothing until he’s ready. As long as he keeps breeding enough Dourosh to protect and sustain him, he is content to wait until there is no possibility for failure. This last attack would have succeeded had the Ember Lion not appeared. Even he could not have foreseen that.”

  Anneli stood and smiled. “But the lion did appear. The Dourosh were driven back. We cannot depend on the lion again, but now we don’t have to. Now we have you.”

  Penny blushed. “You keep talking as though I will be able to do everything you need me to do.”

  Anneli put her hands behind her neck and lifted the amulet over her head. “I want to give you this. I saw you admiring it.”

  Penny tried to object, but Anneli stopped her. “Please. Take it as a token of my love and friendship. It’s not magical, but it is an ancient heirloom of my people.”

  Anneli rounded the
table, stood behind Penny and lowered the amulet around her neck. Her hands lingered on Penny’s shoulders. “When the time comes,” she said, “you will be able to do whatever must be done. I believe that, and as long as you believe it as well, it will be true. The greatest magical affinity is nothing without will.”

  Penny felt the queen’s hands leave her shoulders and heard her light footsteps carry her across the floor and through the door of the library. She sat in silence, feeling the magic flowing into her and sensing the intensity of the esoteric knowledge in the tomes surrounding her. Curious, she stood, walked to a shelf and took down a book without looking at its spine. She opened it and scanned a page. She could read it. Even more, she understood the deeper meaning behind the words. It was a book of healing spells, and she flipped from one page to another, fascinated by the subtle differences between the spells. The spell to treat stomachache differed from the spell to treat heartburn by only a few words.

  Suddenly, the power emanating from the Vortex of Understanding surged, and she realized that the gestures and words of any given spell were simply memory aids. The magic did not come from the words and gestures, they merely helped one focus one’s intentions. It must work—even Anneli still used them—but Penny wondered if that meant that one could use magic while simply standing still. Anneli had said a magical affinity was nothing without will. That was the key. She would learn the words and gestures, because it was how magic was taught, but will was the more important thing. She could not neglect that aspect of her training. She could not let doubt or fear hinder her.

  She felt a sudden desire to see William and put the book back on the shelf. As she crossed the library, she realized another reason for Anneli’s kindness and affection: she was giving Penny the confidence she’d need. Love was the key—that’s why she had thought of William—and she knew that as long as he was by her side, nothing was beyond possibility.

  Chapter Twelve

  Winter Solemnity

  For two weeks, Penny did little besides work with Anneli. Almost daily the queen remarked at the speed with which Penny’s abilities were developing. There had not been anyone with a magical spark within them in living memory, so even Anneli did not know what to expect. As she developed, though, the other people in the palace began to look at her differently. Before, she had been an outsider, a hornless who knew nothing of their ways. Now they treated her as an equal. Some were even beginning to treat her almost as royalty, bowing slightly as she passed them in the halls. She had not failed to hear snippets of conversation that suggested that many thought Anneli was grooming her to be her successor. Penny didn’t know if that was true or not—Anneli had not said anything, and Penny had not picked up any thoughts about it—and she tried her best to keep the idea from her mind as well. She could not let such hypotheticals distract her when she still had so much to learn.

  Penny saw little of Owen; he was being trained by several of the elders, and their tutors did not want the siblings comparing notes and confusing one another, as they were each being developed in different directions.

  Owen had an affinity for the magic of destruction; he was being trained in martial magic. There was a physicality to his lessons that Penny’s mostly lacked. He was being taught how to use magic to enhance his skill with a weapon, hone his senses and push his body beyond its previous limits. He was not yet fluent in Lanoshi, though, so he was being taught simple magical phrases that applied directly to his lessons. This supported Penny’s earlier realization that the words and movements were simply tools to cast spells. As long as Owen knew what the intent of the words was and focused on what he wanted to do, his lack of understanding didn’t seem to be hindering him too greatly.

  Penny, however, was connected to all types of magic, and her lessons went deeper that Owen’s, focusing as much on magical philosophy as on spell craft. She did need to fully understand everything she was reading. She received some training in combat, but Anneli had assured her that once she developed a closer connection with the magic of understanding, all other types of magic would become easier. Until that time it was best for her to focus on book learning.

  When the first snowflakes began to fall in the city of Lanion, Anneli summoned Penny, Owen, William and Sir Stephen to her sitting chamber beside the throne room. When they were all seated, Anneli closed the door then took her place on the settee she most often favored.

  “The first snow has fallen on the city,” she said. “When that happens, we officially celebrate the beginning of winter.” She gestured at a book resting on the low circular table around which they were all seated. “There are some paintings in that book which show what the Winter Festival has looked like in years past.”

  The book was nearest Penny, and she took it up and began flipping through the pages. The hand-painted images were beautiful. They showed the streets of Lanion crowded with revelers, vendors and performers, all colorfully dressed.

  “Those images are from times of peace,” Anneli said. “There are games, music, pageants, athletic competitions…. The purpose is to celebrate life as the Great Forest goes dormant. It’s quite wonderful.”

  Anneli watched as Penny passed the book to Owen, seated on her right. “During times of war, though, the Winter Festival is not observed. Instead, on the night of the first snowfall, families gather beneath their own roofs and spend time together. We call this the Winter Solemnity. It is a time not to celebrate but to be thankful for those you love and to remember those who have been lost.

  “This year, many families will be remembering fallen loved ones. And they’ll be thinking about those who are in the field even now. The armies will be back in Lanion before the valley is blocked in by snow, but until then, they are in danger. And some, like my own brother, will remain in the wilderness through the winter.”

  She forced a smile. “So, with the only remaining member of my immediate family gone, I would like to observe the Winter Solemnity with you. For aside from Penny and Owen, you are also without your families.” She looked around the table. “But perhaps you aren’t. Family is about love as much as kinship. If you all are agreeable, from this moment on I would like to call you my family. I would like to bind myself to you in more than friendship.”

  Penny looked at Owen then at William. Finally her eyes landed on Sir Stephen, who was smiling broadly. He was the first to speak.

  “Your Majesty,” he said, standing and bowing, “nothing would please me more.”

  The rest quickly voiced their agreement, and Anneli’s cheeks reddened. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Thank you all. You honor me.”

  She stood and embraced each of them in turn. When she was finished, she moved to the side table and uncovered the serving trays that had been waiting there.

  “All but a few servants have been sent home to be with their families,” she said, “so we must look after ourselves tonight. Cold meats and cheeses, breads, fruits….” She held up a bulbous glass bottle. “And of course plenty of wine.”

  They all helped Anneli bring the plates, trays, glasses and bottles to the table and began preparing their meal. Penny noticed that Anneli had managed to move closer to Sir Stephen, who was beside her on the settee. She was turned fully toward him, her hand resting on his arm, speaking quietly.

  Penny nudged William, and he grinned. She had never before heard Anneli mention any kind of love interest; she had thought her duties as queen prevented it. But the way Anneli had spoken about the winter holiday, it seemed like the event, whether a festival or a more somber occasion, was a time of openness and honesty. A time of release. They were meant to honor those lost but also to show appreciation for those still in their lives. Maybe Anneli’s appreciation for Stephen was deeper than she’d ever before let on. Penny had seen them speaking intimately over the past few months, but as far as she knew, their banter had never been anything more than that. But it was also true that Penny hadn’t seen much of Sir Stephen, and she didn’t know where Anneli went after their daily l
essons.

  She looked at William again. He knew she appreciated him, but tonight she would be sure to show it. She turned the other way to look at Owen. She was still trying to understand who he was now that the enfeeblement had been lifted from his mind. He was a man, but for her entire life she had seen him as no more than a boy. It felt strange to think of him having the urges and desires of a man. She looked back at Anneli and Stephen. If it was what it looked like, relationships between Lanosh and hornless outsiders apparently weren’t forbidden. Owen had been learning to speak Lanoshi. Hopefully he’d soon be able to socialize with young Lanosh women.

  Over the next few hours, the wine flowed freely, and too late Penny realized that this vintage was stronger than the usual wine they were served at mealtime. Owen had retired earlier, leaving Penny, William, Anneli and Stephen in the queen’s sitting chamber. Anneli and Stephen were holding hands now, and William, also feeling the effects of the wine, clumsily stood and reached out to help Penny up.

  “We should get to bed,” he said, broadly winking at her.

  Anneli stood to see them off, but William held his hands up, urging her to stay. “Please, no need.”

  They thanked the queen for the food and wine then made their way out into the throne room. They didn’t see any servants as they made their way back to their room, and the palace seemed eerily quiet. They stopped just outside their door, and Penny fell heavily into William’s arms.

  “Stephen and Anneli,” she began, giggling.

  William grinned. “I know. Shh. Let’s go inside.”

  They went in and collapsed onto their bed. She found herself in his arms, but for the moment, they were too drunk to do much more than hold one another. She nestled her face against his chest. With the servants gone, the fire had not been lit as it normally was before bedtime, and she snuggled into his warmth. She thought about warming them magically but decided it was best not to attempt magic while drunk.