by Sam Ferguson
Able to decipher this one faster than the first, she fell into a rhythm. The second symbol on each spine meant “Dragon.” The third symbol was a word she had never heard or seen before. She could tell from its structure that it was a possessive formation of the word, but she did not know what the word itself referred to. Even when looking to the old Terryn, she could not find an appropriate cipher for it. So she moved on to the next symbol and discovered that the fourth character meant “world.”
Kyra paused and looked at the book in front of her. She found the brain teaser quite exciting and deduced from the sentence structure that this series of books locked within a case upon her father’s shelf was some sort of chronicle about dragons that belonged to the world. She had absolutely no guess as to what the mystery third symbol meant. It was not an adjective, she had checked all of those. She was almost positive that it looked nothing like any word that she could think of that should go in its place. Instead she believed the missing symbol to denote a name, which was quite an intriguing notion in and of itself. For if denoted a name, then perhaps it did not refer to her world, Terramyr. Or if it did, then it was certainly a name that she had never learned about before.
A key scraped into the study’s lock. Whatever the symbols meant, they would have to wait for another time, as Kyra needed to leave now. Kyra rushed back to the shelf with the language references and slid the book about the ancient hybrid language of the dwarves back into its place. She then turned and started for the window but the door opened and she was discovered.
“Kyra, what are you doing in your father’s study?”
Kyra breathed a sigh of relief. Her mother would not nearly be so difficult to deal with as her father would have been. Kyra turned around to see her lovely mother standing in the doorway with a quiet smile upon her face and her slender hands clasped in front of her waist. She wore a form-fitting green dress as she often did. It snugly hugged her neck and covered her all the way down to her ankles. Upon her feet she wore simple, yet elegant looking brown suede shoes that matched the color of her hair, which had been pulled back into a braid and lazily hung over her left shoulder.
“I was just looking,” Kyra replied.
“You do have your own study, and within that there are more books than you can read in the time that you have left here before you go to Kuldiga Academy.”
Kyra nodded. “I know, it is just that…” Kyra’s voice trailed off. She couldn’t think of an adequate answer to give to her mother. She never could lie to her very well.
Lady Caspen slipped her hand around the door and closed it behind her. She moved into the study and motioned to the window.
“I am going to have to ask you to lock the window. When we leave your father’s study today, you should not enter by that way again. Better to get his permission and walk through the door like a young lady is expected to do.”
“How did you know I’d gone through the window?”
Kyra’s mother laughed softly. “Seeing as how your father took your lock pick and I replaced the lock on the door with a new one, that really leaves only one option.”
Kyra nodded and moved to close the window. She reengaged the locking mechanism and pushed hard until it clicked into place. She turned back around to her mother and motioned to the lock with her right hand.
“Are you going to tell father?”
Lady Caspen shook her head. “No. But Lord Horatio would like to see you. He is here with his son, and they are speaking to your father about –”
“Buying my hand in marriage, I know,” Kyra said. Had Kyra been outside she might have spat in disgust on the ground, but she knew better than to produce such a display in front of her mother. That being said, her tone did not conceal her contempt in the least.
“I was also betrothed,” Kyra’s mother said. “Your father is twenty years older than me, and for several years I felt as though I were nothing more than a doormat to his manor, or possibly a trophy he hung up on his bed when it pleased him.” Lady Caspen walked to the large green chair and sat down. She motioned for Kyra to come and sit on her lap. Kyra feigned displeasure, as was appropriate for her age, but she really didn’t mind sitting on her mother’s lap. She enjoyed the feeling of comfort and security that it brought her.
“Did you ever learn to love him?” Kyra asked as she moved to join her mother.
Lady Caspen embraced her daughter and gently pressed Kyra’s head down onto her shoulder as they both leaned back into the chair.
“I suppose I have in a way. It isn’t anything like I dreamed about as a child. I come from a family of lesser nobles, as you already know. My father and mother loved each other very much, but they were struggling, and their lands had ceased producing. So they married me off to the highest bidder.” Lady Caspen sighed and went quiet for a moment before continuing. A hand reached up to stroke Kyra’s head. “Unfortunately, they both died before you ever got the chance to meet them. You would have liked them very much, and they would have loved you! I was their only child, and so the title to their lands went to me. Those lands now belong to your father. That is the way of the Middle Kingdom, Kyra.”
“I don’t want it. I didn’t ask for it either.”
“I know. That is why I have been working with you so sincerely to improve your talents. If ever there was a young girl who could change the traditions of the Middle Kingdom, it would be you, Kyra. However, if you are going to succeed in doing that, you must be able to master not only your studies at home and at the Academy, but the entire subject of sorcery itself. You have that ability within you, but it will take work and consistent effort. If you do well enough, then maybe, just maybe, you might be able to carve out your own future.”
“Then why do you let father sell my hand in marriage?”
Lady Caspen sighed again. She pushed Kyra away from herself and looked deeply into her eyes.
“Because a lady must be smart. The men plot and scheme and push their muscle around to get their way. A lady must be cunning and shrewd. Hear what I say Kyra, for I am not telling you to be mean and ruthless. What I am saying is that open defiance will earn you more scrutiny in a man’s world than quiet, feigned acceptance and obedience to the rules and traditions of the Middle Kingdom. If you can convince others that you are not a threat either to their personal authority or to the traditions at large, then the men will ignore you, or leer at you at worst, but that is preferable to open scrutiny and being stamped down by those in authority. You can use the quiet space to look for a way to get what you want. You may not know this, but even I use this very tactic with your father.”
“And what is it you want, Mother?”
Lady Caspen smiled brightly. “I want my daughter to be happy. I also want for her to have every opportunity to succeed in whatever way she defines as success. You may not understand, but I am encouraging your father to reach a suitable negotiation for your hand not because I want to see you betrothed as I was, but because I have convinced him that it is proper to share a portion of the wealth with you upon your betrothal. We can discuss this more in depth at some other future point, but I thought a girl as smart and sly as you might find a way to put such a treasure to use to further her own ambitions. It might be enough to ensure at least a sliver of freedom, but I hope it will help bring much more than that.”
Lady Caspen gently pushed Kyra off of her lap and rose to her feet. She motioned toward the door and started to walk, but Kyra stopped and looked back to the bookcase where the sealed books sat.
“What are those?”
Lady Caspen followed Kyra’s finger to the bookshelf and saw the black books sealed in a case.
“Those are the Chronicles of the Dragons of Kendualdern. They are the forerunners of the ancients that lived upon our lands until only a few generations ago. I don’t know if you would enjoy reading all of the books, but there is one that you might find particularly useful. It is the history of a dragon by the name of Gorliad. Like you, the fates also dealt him a hand he wo
uld not accept. The first book on the left is titled ‘Ascension’, and it details Gorliad’s struggle. If you promise to stay out of your father’s study for the next few weeks until you go to Kuldiga Academy, then I will get that book out of the case and give it to you as a present for your fourteenth birthday. Do we have a deal?”
Kyra smiled wide. “Can I also read the others?”
“We will see,” Lady Caspen said with a wink.
The two exited the study and Lady Caspen locked the door behind them. They walked down the hallway together and changed the subject from books to men.
“Have they come too?” Kyra asked.
“Who?” Lady Caspen replied.
“Janik and his brother Feberik,” Kyra said.
“Ah, the Orres brothers. No, they have not come yet. I suspect they will be here next week.”
“Mother, what was it like?”
Lady Caspen stopped walking and turned to look at her daughter. Kyra’s stomach twisted into knots and instantly she regretted asking her mother that question. She had never asked it before, somehow knowing inside that it was too sensitive a topic. She wasn’t even sure why she asked it now, except that they had mentioned Janik, the man who had rescued her, and Kyra had been looking at the painting in her father’s study earlier.
Lady Caspen knelt down beside Kyra and put a hand on each shoulder. “It was terrible, and it was wonderful, all at the same time. I have conflicted feelings about it. In some ways it was extremely liberating, while of course in others it was the very definition of being a captive in hell. All you need to know at this time is that we are safe, both you and I. I will make sure that it remains that way. Now let’s go, we really are running late and your father will begin to fret.”
*****
A few days later, Kyra awoke slightly before sunrise. She had fallen asleep translating Ascension, one of the books about the dragons of Kendualdern that her mother had loaned her. As was typical of Kyra’s mother, she had not been able to wait until her birthday to give it to her along with the cipher needed to transliterate the characters into Peish. She did, however, say that the others in the set would be her birthday present. In the meantime, her mother suggested, she should become more familiar with the characters and the language the book was written in.
Kyra pushed the black book away from her with a sigh. It would be a long process before she could read this book fluidly and fully enjoy the story. She rose to her feet and pulled her robe tightly about her as she shook off the cold, shivering against the goose pimples tightening her skin. It was then that she noticed her window was slightly open.
She went to her window to close it, but something down below caught her attention. There was a brief flash of darkness, something that was almost like a man’s shadow standing near a tree. Could it be one of the noblemen? No, surely no nobleman would come calling before sunrise. The dawn had not fully broken yet, and the last shadows of night still clung to the outside world beyond her window. Perhaps it was the gardener, or maybe it was Fletcher, bringing fresh milk from the cows. Yes, that must have been it, it was Fletcher.
She turned and started to walk away, but then she turned back to the window and stared down at the ground right in the same spot where the shadow had been next to the large oak tree. Why would Fletcher be on the north side of the manor? The kitchen, and all the storerooms, were on the east side of the manor. The barns and pastures were even farther out to the east. There was nothing on the north side of the manor except for forest land.
Kyra tied off her robe, walked to the window, and threw it open. She cast a spell that she had practiced since she was three years old. She waved her left index finger before her face and then muttered a single word. In response, an egg shaped ball of light appeared in the air. She then pointed to the oak tree and the egg flew down with blinding speed. Just before the light reached the area where the shadows still stood, she caught a glimpse of a man’s face. The skin was gray and the face was long and narrow with a starkly defined jawline under a pointy nose. Shoulder length black hair hung loosely around the man’s face. He was dressed in dark garb, but that was all the more detail she could catch before he turned and vanished into the forest.
It was not Fletcher, nor was it anyone else in her father’s employ.
She shut the window and locked it, then she threw the drapes closed. She ran quickly, yet quietly on the balls of her bare feet over the wooden floor to her door. She pulled the door open, preparing to run to her mother’s room.
A large shadow stood in her doorway. Kyra’s heart skipped and her breath caught in her throat as she slammed her door shut and went to lock it. She felt the handle turn against her hand. She slid her foot against the bottom of the door to keep it from being pressed open again. Quickly, as her mother had taught her to do when she suffered from nightmares in her early childhood, Kyra cast a ward on the door and used a spell to help close it.
A man groaned on the other side of the door and then there was a strange sound like water turning into steam and blowing away on a heavy wind.
She spun around and quickly put a ward on her window as well, lest whatever the intruder was gained entry that way into her room. She waited for several minutes before gathering the courage to look under her door. Her eyes could only see partly through the space between the door and the floor, but she did not see any shadows or feet. She stood again, slowly reaching for the knob and taking in a deep breath. She prepared a fire spell in her right hand. She was not quite as skilled as her mother of course, but she had practiced lighting torches with her magic, and she was certain that even a small flame would dissuade an intruder from attacking her.
Kyra ripped the door open and pointed her spell hand out the doorway. The figure was gone.
Satisfied that no one was there, she ran out into the hall and turned left for her mother’s room. She couldn’t see anything, nor hear anything, but she was certain that something, or someone, was following her. She ran as fast as she could, her bare feet slapping against the cold, wooden floor and echoing through the hallway. Her mother’s chamber was another thirty yards down the hall. Something she could not see lightly swiped at Kyra’s shoulder. The young woman ran faster, slinging her right hand back and letting her flame spell jump from her palm, hoping that it would hit and slow whatever was following her.
Something behind her hissed and screeched, making a sound like one might expect to hear after stepping upon a large rat. An invisible hand wrapped around Kyra’s right foot and pulled her to the ground. She slammed hard on the wooden floor, scraping her knees and bumping her head. She turned over, preparing to fight whatever it was that had seized her, but she saw nothing there.
Then she saw the shadow at the end of the hall once more. She lifted her head to get a better look at it, but something pushed down upon her chest, holding her to the floor. She swung out with both of her fists, but caught only air. She started to weave another spell, but at that moment each of her wrists were caught and forced to the floor as well. As the weight upon her chest grew, she found it hard to breathe, and impossible to cry out for help.
The door to her mother’s chamber behind her flew open and Lady Caspen stormed out with a red fireball hovering over her left palm and a ball of purple lightning gathering in her right. Her hair and robes flowed behind her as if a great gust of wind was blowing toward her. The woman’s jaw was set and her eyes stared to the end of the hallway where the shadow was.
“You are not welcome here,” Lady Caspen said. “Be gone!” The lightning shot out from her right hand, ripping the invisible force off of Kyra only a moment before the fireball soared through the hallway and blasted the shadow at the end of the hall. Kyra jumped up from the floor and ran to her mother. Lady Caspen swept Kyra behind her and slowly backed into the bedroom from the hall, warily watching for any additional sign of the intruder.
“What was that?”
Kyra’s mother pushed her all the way to the bed and then set her down upon the mattr
ess. Lady Caspen moved to the window and threw the curtains open, peering down to the ground below. “He has found us again.”
“Who found us?”
Lady Caspen shook her head and turned to Kyra and pointed a finger at her. “Not a word of this to your father, do you understand?”
CHAPTER 3
Lady Caspen excused herself from the dinner table early that evening as she had previously arranged with Kyra to do. According to the plan, Kyra would take a bowl of hot soup from the dinner table to Lady Caspen’s room under the guise of helping her mother feel better. In reality, Lady Caspen had prepared her room with wards that would allow only Kyra and herself in. She had thought to allow her husband as well, but she knew he would not likely come to her side of the manor. He rarely did anymore.
The sun had not yet fallen behind the horizon when Lady Caspen reached her bedchamber. She moved to a tall armoire, opened the door, and pushed in past the first line of clothes to open the hidden compartment. From that compartment she retrieved a pair of sturdy trousers, a tunic lined with fur, a pair of knee-high leather boots, and one pair of black shiny gloves. After she put them on, she reached into the compartment once more to pull a small dagger with a ruby encrusted hilt. She closed the armoire and moved to the center of her room.
Lady Caspen held the dagger in front of her face for a few moments, turning it over in her palm and studying the intricate metalwork in the engraved design spiraling up the blade. She held the handle firmly with the point facing down to the floor. She began to speak the words of a finding spell, focusing on the dagger itself. A light breeze, nothing more than a slight rustle in fact, began to swirl around her as she spoke the words of the spell. The breeze grew in intensity until it formed a vortex from floor to ceiling, spinning her hair around her face and ultimately lifting her from the floor. The floor fell away from below her and then she fell through the hole, vanishing into the portal.