by Shelley Cass
Table of Contents
Title Page
Map
Locations and pronunciation guide
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty Seven
Chapter Thirty Eight
Chapter Thirty Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty One
Chapter Forty Two
Chapter Forty Three
Chapter Forty Four
Chapter Forty Five
Chapter Forty Six
Chapter Forty Seven
Chapter Forty Eight
Chapter Forty Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty One
Chapter Fifty Two
Chapter Fifty Three
Chapter Fifty Four
Chapter Fifty Five
Chapter Fifty Six
Chapter Fifty Seven
Chapter Fifty Eight
Chapter Fifty Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty One
Chapter Sixty Two
Chapter Sixty Three
Chapter Sixty Four
Chapter Sixty Five
Chapter Sixty Six
Chapter Sixty Seven
Chapter Sixty Eight
Chapter Sixty Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy One
Chapter Seventy Two
Chapter Seventy Three
Chapter Seventy Four
Chapter Seventy Five
Chapter Seventy Six
Chapter Seventy Seven
Chapter Seventy Eight
Chapter Seventy Nine
Chapter Eighty
Chapter Eighty One
Chapter Eighty Two
Chapter Eighty Three
Chapter Eighty Four
Chapter Eighty Five
Chapter Eighty Six
Chapter Eighty Seven
Chapter Eighty Eight
Chapter Eighty Nine
Chapter Ninety
Other books available
Acknowledgements
About the author
The Raiden
Book Two – sequel to
‘The Last Larnaeradee’
To those who make me smile – you are the best magic.
Thank you.
Shelley Cass
Copyright © 2019 Shelley Cass
All rights reserved.
Locations and pronunciation guide:
Sylthanryn: (Sil-than-rin). The Great Forest. Where the Lady, or the Mother of Nature, and the Elves and Nymphs live.
Awyalkna: (A for apple-why-elk-nah). A mortal Kingdom under the reign of King Glaidin (G-laid-in) and Queen Aglaia (Ag-lay-ah). The Awyalknian Palace is also known as the ‘Awyalknian Jewel’, and is protected by the internal Gwentorock (G-when-toe-rock) and external Gwynrock (G-win-rock) walls. The lands beyond the City are green and flourishing, with many self-contained villages.
Bwintam (B-win-tam) village was a key provider of Awyalkna’s fresh produce, before it was razed by Krall. Gangroah (Gang-row-ah) and Giltrup (Guilt-rup) are examples of smaller villages, while Wanru (W-an-roo, an isolated, hilly place) and Wrilapek (W-rill-ah-peck, a horse rearing place) are larger and more greatly populated.
Krall: (Crawl). A mortal Kingdom ruled by the immortal Sorcerer Darziates (D-are-zee-eights), who is the heir of the first Sorcerer to have lived; Deimos (Day-moss). Darziates is assisted by the psychotic Warlord Angra Mainyu (An-gra Main-you) and the Witch Agrona (Ag-groan-ah), and is responsible for the genocide of all of the Larnaeradee Fairies (La-nair-ah-dee), the Unicorns and Sprites.
Nature dies around Darziates’ unnatural power, so he forces his magic into Krall’s earth so that a type of growth and food is produced for his people. However this has corrupted Krall’s seasons, which involve intense heat or extreme cold. Sorcery has reduced the land to barren plains of wastelands and desert.
Jenra: (Jen-rah). A Kingdom circled by, and built into the mountains by the sea. The mountain Kingdom is isolated from the rest of the world, and was once known as Karanoyar (Karen-oi-ah), the original home of the Unicorns. It has lush valleys, but the peaks of the mountains are infested with Griffin eyries, and King Durna’s (Der-nah) brother – Warlord Aeron (Air-on) must work tirelessly to contain the infestation.
Lixrax: (Lix-r-axe). A desert nation, with people who have been tempered by the harsh environment. They are skilled survivors, but are a united family because of their surrounds. Their Emperor, Razek (Rah-zeck) regards all of the tribes and Takal residents of Lixrax as his children.
The Other Realm: a separate plain of malicious spirit beings. When King Deimos wanted to unite the world under one kingship, he used a piece of his soul to bargain with the demons of the Other Realm, who gave him powers to help him in his Quest.
He became so powerful that the Larnaeradee Sylranaeryn (Sil-ran-air-in) and her Unicorn Kinrilowyn (Kin-ril-owen) had to deplete their combined magic to defeat him as he faced the Army for the World.
Though he was overthrown by the first Army for the World, he made the first of the experimental Evexus beasts. The Evexus (E-vex-us) are bestial creatures possessed by the spirits of the Other Realm.
Margate Isle: home of the Giants.
Eirian Isle: home of the Dargons (D-are-gone-s) and the Dwarves and Gnomes. A cliffy place of soaring heights and deep, tunneling caves, perfect for creatures of flight as well as rock loving peoples.
Chapter One
“Stop watching me like that Aggy. I can’t stand it.” Agrona’s mother had been brushing her black flowing locks of hair out. Her eyes had been cold as they flitted to the reflection of her motionless daughter – who was lurking at the door, and then back to her own reflection in the lavish dresser mirror.
While her beauty had saved the woman from ruin, the illegitimate child had still become her principal regret in life. Agrona’s real father had been a stranger who had left the cursed place. But that had been a boon, for while he’d been charismatic at first, he’d had strange powers and Agrona had been an unwanted result of the brief relationship before a more normal, advantageous union had saved Agrona’s mother from destitution.
“Your eyes are so dull. You make my skin creep.”
Steel vines had been wrought to frame the mirror. So detailed, that the thorns truly had been dangerous to touch. And the room had looked gloomy – filled only with the stormy light of Krall’s cold season, filtering in through the window.
But the woman, hardly a motherly figure, had held all of her daughter’s attention.
An emerald dress had clung to the noble woman’s slender body, tightly hugging her waist and bosom and sweeping r
ichly to the floor. Emerald earrings and a plunging, glittering necklace had decorated her white throat and had made her severe face even more beautiful as she’d turned at last from the mirror with a sneer.
“Get out!” she’d snarled to get the impassive child moving, glaring until Agrona sullenly stepped back through the bedroom door.
Then the woman had dismissed the wraith from mind, returning her attention to the mirror, dabbing perfume onto her pale wrists and throat.
Stung, and with a dark expression, Agrona had stayed at the door and scrunched her hand into a fist, staring intensely until the little glass perfume vial had shattered in her mother’s hand.
Her mother had whirled in fury. “I despise you!” she’d hissed, and red circles had formed on her cheeks. “Disgusting Witch.”
And Agrona had run through the cold, grey manor, her tears running hot with resentment.
Agrona had herself been a beautiful child. Long, midnight plaits down her back and flawless skin. Deep, dark eyes, almost black.
Her own dress on that day had been grey and starched, but she’d still been uncannily attractive.
There had always been something different about her. Something that others had unconsciously shied away from in fear, even though she was the daughter of a wealthy Lady who had married a Lord.
In the scorching heat of their town in Krall, Agrona had never appeared affected. Her skin had never flushed or changed from an almost lifeless pale shade. Similarly, in the icy cold season, she had never shown as much as a shiver. And she would never laugh, only smiling faintly at unpleasant things that inexplicably seemed to happen to people who were around her.
Even after fleeing the mother who’d despised her, as Agrona had sat by herself with silent tears on the cold, stone step of the manor, a group of muddy, laughing urchins across the street had become silent and had taken flight at the sight of her.
Agrona had watched them scatter, and wiped stonily at the tears that had left droplet marks on her stiff pinafore. Then she’d scrunched her fist again, frowning at the slowest small child who was hurrying down a laneway to escape her presence.
She’d let a little energy go then – and the raggedy child had gone flying, squealing as he’d hit a stone wall.
“Why are you crying?” a calm voice had suddenly poured over her like smooth silk.
And Agrona had stared at the man who seemed to have appeared on the steps beside her out of thin air. She had never seen him before.
He had been young, and yet seemed more self-assured than most gentlemen twice his age. His hair had seemed so light as to almost be colourless. His own skin was as pale as hers. Like flawless porcelain. And his body was strong. The sinewy muscles and his unnatural height and powerful shoulders had made him look as immovably hard as granite.
In the distance, the raggedy boy had started to sit up and was sobbing feebly, but Agrona had forgotten her victim.
“I am not loved,” Agrona had answered, at once coveting this beautiful man. “I am feared, because I am different.”
“I see,” the young man had answered. “Have you considered that being different gives you power? Perhaps these weaklings do not deserve to love one such as you.”
She had tossed her plaits back over her shoulders. “I hate them. They can’t understand or do what I can.”
“Then why do they upset you?”
“I live here. There is nobody else like me, and I won’t be accepted anywhere else,” Agrona’s face had darkened. “I am trapped.”
She’d looked threateningly at the little boy, staggering to his feet and clutching his head as he cried.
“Agrona,” the man’s voice had been like liquid gold as it had rolled over her. “I am like you.”
He’d known her name without being told, and when she’d fixed her dark eyes on his face, he had not shied away from her like the others.
“How are you like me?” she’d questioned in a near whisper.
He’d turned from her and she’d followed his gaze, and then the little boy in the distance had shrieked as he was suddenly swept up by some invisible force, and thrown into the wall again. The crack of bones had echoed back to them and the child’s body had stayed unmoving in the mud.
“What makes us different from other people?” Agrona had asked the man then, her voice coloured with curiosity.
“We can feel the Other Realm,” he’d responded easily. “We can manipulate its energy to use it in this realm. One day you will be so strong that your mind will help you control things like your hands can. You won’t need gestures. And the rest of the world will bow to us.”
Her dark eyes had become livelier than they had ever been. “My mother will respect me then.”
“You do not need this place, or these people,” he’d answered. “You can come with me, and I will teach you.”
“They would not let me go …” Agrona had frowned, for the first time uncertain.
“They would not be able to stop you. And, they hate you.”
At those words the hurt had played across her normally controlled face. “My mother could not let her only child go.”
He had placed his hand upon her bony shoulder and she’d looked at him with awe, feeling as if she had been touched by a God.
“Your mother would have a new child one day. One that behaves like the rest of these waifs. A legitimate child to be her true heir. To her, you are ugly and diseased. As strange and fearsome as the man who fathered you.”
His words had tipped Agrona over the edge. She had long suspected it all herself.
“Will you help me leave here and be strong like you?” she’d asked him hopefully.
His eyes had been like grey steel and his grip had continued to hold her, but she had been held fast by something more. Agrona had been entranced by his power.
“You can come with me. But to be strong, you must give up any weak mortal qualms. Give in to your own impulses. Punish those who have made you miserable. You can’t run away from them in cowardice. They would only hunt us.”
“What should I do?” Agrona had questioned hesitantly.
“Use your power. Feel the dark of the Other Realm, and show them how angry you are. Show me how powerful you can be. Make me impressed.”
“Will you come with me?”
She’d stood resolutely, gazing up at him.
“Of course,” he had taken her hand.
And then Agrona had led the way inside and they had found her mother, now sitting at the long stone dining table with her stepfather.
First her mother’s glittering eyes had appraised Agrona, before sweeping up to look at him.
Her mother had suddenly risen, and her chair had fallen backwards to the floor as she’d registered the enchanting man.
“You!” shock had coloured Agrona’s mother’s face and Agrona’s stepfather had hurried to his wife’s side.
“What are you –”
“Hush,” Agrona’s new and only ally had cut her snarling mother off, and at once the shocked Lord and Lady had been pushed back to the stone wall. Their shoes had scraped audibly across the floor, but they had held their throats silently, their speech cut off.
Agrona had been confused for a moment. Her mother had known this man?
“Agrona, it is time.” His touch at her elbow had cleared her mind.
Raising her fist, Agrona had pictured her mother and her stepfather drinking something poisonous. She had imagined how the poisonous liquid would flow into their organs and blood. It would fill them. Burn their insides. Kill them.
As she’d thought about it, her negligent family had been gripped in horror. They had started to choke and splutter. The poison Agrona had imagined had begun forming inside them. She had created it. She was controlling it.
“Good Agrona.” His voice had been the only supportive one she had ever heard.
A servant had entered the room with a platter, walking in obliviously. But as the servant had let out the start of a scream, with a gla
nce from the strange blonde man the maid’s neck had snapped sideways. Her head had lolled unnaturally and she’d fallen to the floor.
Agrona had felt him do it, as if he had thrown an invisible fist out, but the only physical move he made was when he’d touched her elbow again.
“Don’t be distracted,” he’d encouraged Agrona. “Show us all what you can do. Concentrate harder.”
Agrona had watched as her mother’s beautiful, cruel face had turned black and as her stepfather had begun foaming at the mouth.
Agrona had felt that, inside her two gurgling victims, something like acidic red smoke was hollowing out their organs. And she’d known that it was magic. Her magic.
“Finish it, Agrona. They have hurt you and never appreciated your gifts. This is necessary.”
His voice had taken her over and she had realised she would forever follow its commands as, at last, her mother’s and her stepfather’s eyes had rolled back.
His power had released them, and their bodies had slumped downward.
“Well done Agrona,” he’d taken her hand again. “We might make effective partners.”
She’d smiled up at him.
The Witch of Krall had been only twelve when she’d met Darziates. But she’d already given him her heart completely, so that he could use it as he wished.
And he had used it as he’d wished, forcefully shaping her ever after. Chaining her to his every whim as she had grown more devoted, while he instead had grown to decide that Agrona was never going to be anything more than his greatest disappointment.
Chapter Two
Kiana
My eyes blinked open to a flood of sunlight that was spilling down to blanket me.
I held up a shaking hand to catch the falling golden rays upon my fingertips, but then looked at my bony hand and thin arm with momentary alarm.
My knuckles stood out, with the skin stretched over them. The nub of bone in my wrist was like a boulder, and my elbow was awkwardly knobbly. But I calmed, noticing that there was warmth upon my other hand, which was resting on crisp, white bed sheets.
I peered to my side to see that the warmth was from a long hand covering mine. And it was Dalin’s.
He was asleep, his head tilted to lean back against the white cushioned chair he’d sprawled in so that I could see the scar that ran across his ear and along his jaw line. The chair had been pushed close to the bed so that his hand could still hold mine, and the sun poured over him so that he looked like some kind of Awyalknian Prince.