by Beth Hodgson
“I don’t like that photographer. And the princess’s first handmaiden.”
“I don’t, either. Shall I get rid of them?” Ikaria laughed, slinking in her seat.
“By getting rid of them… What do you mean by that?” Derek eyed her.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
“If that’s the case,” Derek said, “then no. I will deal with them. I do not want anyone dying on my account!” he whispered harshly.
“Good. I’m not in the mood anyway. This party is much too entertaining.”
“Don’t they have parties in the future?”
“My father never hosted parties such as these, and my sister, ugh.” Ikaria rolled her eyes. “Well, she is just as dull as him.” She arched her back, finishing the glass within seconds. “I was overdue for some drinking, dancing, and much-needed flirting. I daresay that I will freely be able to have my way with that blond lord over there. Would you introduce me to him?”
Derek answered with a nasty look, making Ikaria laugh. “No matter, I can work my way over to him later this evening.”
A silver glimmer caught Derek’s eye, coming from Ikaria’s hand. She was wearing a gauntlet. No, not just any gauntlet, the same gauntlet that King Damaris wore.
“Where did you get that?” Derek asked.
“Oh, this is just a little souvenir that Damaris gave me. He wanted to give me something to remember him by.”
Derek raised an eyebrow. “I doubt that.” He took a drink of his wine. The bitter liquid made his heart burn with rage thinking about everyone. That damn photographer. And that knowing handmaiden. And to top it all off… that degenerate. He had red magic. Maybe that was why Emerald was so infatuated with him. And the fool had come so close to stopping the whole ceremony. It seemed his patch of good luck was wearing thin once again.
“Aren’t you concerned what happened tonight?” Derek asked, troubled.
“Not in the least,” Ikaria said casually, trying to make eye contact with the elegant blond lord.
“Why not?” he asked. “Those two people with magic tried to take my bride away, nearly ruining the wedding while doing so, and they seemed intent on wanting to stop you.”
“The wedding wasn’t ruined, my prince. Time was frozen, and I cleaned up the mess before you continued it,” Ikaria said matter-of-factly. “No one knows anything but you and I.”
“And what of the other woman with purple magic?” Derek asked, sneering. “Do you know anything else about her? She obviously was helping that man with the red magic.”
Ikaria shrugged as if unaffected by their encounter. “I don’t really care.”
“You seemed worried about that woman before.”
“It’s different now. I have completed the Spectrum of Magic.”
“And just because you did so, all your concerns have diminished?”
Ikaria gave him a sweet but menacing smile. “My dear prince, like I said before, whoever that woman is with the violet magic, she is most likely working for my sister, or worse, the High Court in my time. They are a bunch of hacks and has-beens, trying to keep my world subdued with their ultimate hold over all the world sectors. That woman was probably sent by them to steal your princess away from you.
“She won’t be the first, nor the last. I expect others to follow suit. You see, they think they are the God of Light’s gift to mankind, keeping the laws of magic in check. They are afraid of technology and other gifteds’ magic that they do not control. Like your princess’s and mine.” Ikaria laughed and glanced out of the corner of her elongated eyes, watching his expression before continuing. “They should be scared. Especially now that I have the power to stop them. They need to be disbanded, or better yet, terminated from society. Think of Damaris. He was a threat to the peace of Arcadia, was he not?”
“Yes, of course,” said Derek. “He was willing to sacrifice many for his obsession over magic and technology through financial loss. Countless lives would have been lost going to war with York for no reason. And he lost all respect from his daughter.” A sinking feeling fluttered in his stomach when he mentioned Emerald.
“And so is the High Court. They are willing to sacrifice anything to get what they want. That is why I need your cyborgs. Although I have the power to stop them with just my magic, the cyborgs will help solidify my plan to remove High Court from their position.”
“You will have the army I promised you.”
“I know, I can still read your thoughts.”
Derek shot her a look.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t been reading them too much.” Ikaria looked at him playfully. “Only the entertaining ones.” She leaned back in the chair, flashing him a wicked, dry grin.
“So you really aren’t the least bit concerned with the others trying to stop you?” Derek asked as he picked at his food.
“My dear Derek, I have the ultimate power flowing through my body, as if the hand of God himself has touched me. Won’t the High Court be surprised to learn that the God of Light is on my side?” She laughed.
“No offense, but I highly doubt any god would be on your side after murdering this High Court of yours.”
“All justified for a greater cause.”
Derek smirked. “I have never pegged you for a devoted follower of any faith.”
Ikaria eyed the blond lord across the room, finally getting his attention. She sat up straight, sticking out her bust seductively. “Let’s just say I have different ideas of the God of Light, unlike everyone else.” The man held out his glass from afar, then toasted silently to her. Ikaria did the same, then the two of them drank in unison. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need some fresh nightly entertainment.”
Ikaria rose from her seat, taking the first step down from the platform, then turned her head toward him slightly.
“By the way, I have a wedding gift for you. It should arrive shortly.” Ikaria’s black eyes flashed at him as she turned away. “You can thank me in the morning.”
“Do I really want it?”
“Oh, you will want this gift, that I can assure you.”
Ikaria walked down the platform. With each step, the high slits of her dress exposed more of her thighs, catching stares from the men of the court and a few women. She advanced to the blond lord in the crowd, then the two slipped away out of the hall.
What could Ikaria possibly give him for a wedding gift? The thought of her even doing so worried Derek. She was not the generous type unless there was a motive behind it.
Turning to Emerald, Derek drank his wine, taking in her beauty. The redness of her lips, the soft, flowing green tresses. Several long locks graced the sides of her breasts. When was dinner going to end so he could have her?
During the meal’s fifth course, a thousand chinking sounds were heard through the hall. Damaris appeared in front of the royal party table, waiting to address the crowd. The goblet sounds slowly died off, leaving the room in silence except for a few joyful whispers. Derek eyed the vacant King, then glanced out to the people gathered, who were waiting in anticipation of the King’s speech.
“My dear lords and ladies, thank you for joining us in this wondrous event for the marriage between the Kingdom of Arcadia and the Kingdom of York,” Damaris said animatedly, obviously being puppeted by Ikaria.
Was this going to be his wedding gift?
Derek slunk into his throne slightly, anxiously watching while the crowd cheered and raised their goblets. The sinking feeling returned, twisting in Derek’s stomach.
“You all know by now the news of my latest declaration, that this fine young man”—Damaris gestured to Derek—“is now the heir to Arcadia. I couldn’t be any happier.” Claps from the crowd ensued, and Derek’s nerves began to race through his body. “No one could ask for a more perfect heir, nor a more perfect match than Prince Derek to my beautiful daughter, Princess Emerald.”
Damaris paused for a moment, eyeing the crowd before he continued. “I was never known to be a reasonab
le ruler, nor a kind one. King Samir can vouch for that.”
Derek’s father turned beet red under his dark curls while the crowd momentarily glanced in his direction. His mother lowered her gaze, completely embarrassed.
What is Ikaria doing? Derek thought furiously. She had better not mention anything about my father and Elyathi!
“I have done many horrible things to this kingdom and have never been the ruler that I should have become.” The crowd began to eye each other, raising their eyebrows in surprise. “Instead, I have been unfair, unjust, manipulated, and controlled by a kingdom far greater than this one, all working toward their purpose, their goal. And in the process, I have destroyed relations with York, something I regret deeply.”
The partygoers began to whisper wildly amongst each other, giving puzzled faces. Even Derek’s father and mother were flabbergasted.
Damaris cleared his throat loudly, and the noises died down, waiting for him to continue. “And for all the sins that I have committed, I cannot continue to rule Arcadia. I have been controlled by delusions of grandeur for far too long, and it is time someone took control of Arcadia before it is too late. And that is why I am now stepping aside and letting a new ruler ascend to Arcadia’s throne. Citizens of Arcadia, look now to your future king. King Derek!”
Just as the crowd began to clap, Damaris flashed a knife in his hand. With a quick gesture, Damaris slit his own throat, the skin peeling apart effortlessly. Blood spurted out of Damaris’s body as it slumped to the floor, lifeless. He remained inanimate, his garments soaking up the blood.
Derek shot up from his seat, mortified. There were screams, gasps, and cries from the crowd. Panic set in, causing confusion with the guests. Some ran amok, fleeing the horrifying scene, while others remained frozen in shock. Councilor Emerys, along with the guards, ran over to the King’s limp body, propping him up to see if he had any life left in him, while the remaining Inner Council stood aghast. As Emerys held Damaris’s body, he was met with more gushing of blood from the neck. The King remained unresponsive. Even Derek’s parents had no idea what to do, his father nearly stumbling to a nearby chair while his mother fainted, collapsing onto the floor.
Seeing Damaris dead made Derek recall just how cruel Damaris had been, and the thought crossed his mind that his demise was well deserved. Derek felt terrible for even thinking it, but he was reminded of how hateful the King was to everyone, including his daughter and his wife, Queen Elyathi. No wonder the Queen had planned to run off with his father. She had every cause to do so, considering she was also treated like a prisoner, the same as Emerald.
Damaris deserved this, Derek thought. For all the hell he gave everyone over the years. Emerald, his citizens, Arcadia’s stock markets… He ruined so many lives.
Derek heard the other members of the council yelling at Emerald, silently pleading with desperate faces. They wanted her to use her healing powers but couldn’t say it plainly in front of the guests.
Turning to Emerald, Derek gave her a look, reminding her how cruel Damaris really was to her, how she’d been a prisoner her whole life. The King didn’t deserve to be healed. Then he remembered that he didn’t need to convince her.
Emerald remained seated, her eyes coldly calculating the situation, then bowed her head. Her gaze fell on Emerys, and Emerald shook her head, silently refusing to help. Derek knew she wouldn’t do anything unless he commanded it out loud or in his mind, and he wasn’t changing his mind. He couldn’t risk her using her power anyway; there were too many people that were still in the hall. If everyone found out about her, they would face a slew of problems, especially with the media blasting the news everywhere. Other kingdoms would possibly try to kidnap her. Any he didn’t need any more problems. He had enough as it was.
The guards and councilors flashed their faces toward Derek, awaiting to be instructed.
“Your Highness…” Emerys began, suddenly realizing that the title no longer suited Derek. “Your Majesty, what shall we do?”
“Get everyone out of here now and shut down the palace when the final guest has gone. Get the coroner immediately and prepare for a state funeral. We cannot further celebrate my happy event with this unfortunate outcome. Damaris deserves to have his moment of silence met with our bereavement.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” murmured the councilors. They immediately turned away and started barking orders to the guards.
Derek held out his hand, waiting for Emerald to take it. The new queen arose from her seat, then gently took his hand, and Derek escorted her down the platform.
Another guilty pang ran through his body as Derek led Emerald out of the hall.
Some present! Damn that Ikaria. What a mess. I never asked for the death of the King…
But as much as Derek told himself that he didn’t want Damaris gone, he had much satisfaction that now no one stood in his way between him and Emerald.
And now they could freely rule Arcadia.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
RED
Kyle… her soft voice whispered.
It was cold. So very cold.
Em? Is that you?
Wake up, Kyle!
Kyle felt his head resting in Emerald’s lap, her hands gently playing with his hair. Tiredly, he opened his eyes, revealing her face peering down at him. She was just as beautiful and delicate as the first night he had seen her at the venue. A warm wave flowed through his body, eradicating the icy feeling and lifting his spirits. There, in the darkness, she held him close.
Can’t I just stay here with you? Don’t make me go back. I don’t want to be anywhere that you aren’t.
He felt a slight touch of her hand on his chest, playing with his necklaces, wrapping it around one of her fingers. Her life-giving eyes smiled as her face leaned over to kiss him.
As their lips met, violet light burst from Emerald’s body, instantly becoming entwined with a stream of black magic. The dark magic began to force Emerald’s body away, pushing with a translucent black wind. Emerald jutted her hand out to grasp onto Kyle, but it was too late. The force was too fast and too powerful. Sheer terror and panic radiated from her face. Wicked laughs of a woman echoed in the arid space, reverberating over and over again.
Emerald! Kyle screamed.
Kyle! Don’t leave me here alone!
I won’t! I promise!
Kyle felt a sudden, hard kick to his side. He shot up from the floor, confused. Through his tired bleary eyes, a violet blob approached. Seeing the purple pissed him off, thinking of the power that held Emerald’s mind and soul hostage.
Damn that violet magic all to hell!
Crimson fire ignited from his hands, which he instantly shot in the direction of the purple blur.
Geeta held out one of her hands, freezing the fireball in front of her. The ball of flames immediately crystallized into amethyst ice particles. Geeta wafted her hand, wisping them away.
“Come. Let’s begin,” she said, turning away toward the door, unaffected by what just happened.
“I didn’t mean to do that…” Kyle said, feeling it necessary to explain. The dream had felt so real, like he was there with Emerald.
Geeta remained silent. Either she hadn’t heard him or was flat-out ignoring him. Kyle guessed it was the latter.
“Where are we going?” Kyle noticed a black T-shirt next to where he was. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the shirt.
“For you. I thought you might like some clean clothes. I don’t own any men’s pants, but I do have a few shirts. You’re thin enough.”
“Thanks. An old boyfriend?” Kyle asked as he changed into the shirt. The shirt was tight on him, but at least it was clean.
Geeta shot him a look of annoyance. “No boyfriends. I’m not like that,” she huffed. “They are my clothes.”
“Okay, all right, whatever you say…” Kyle shrugged, lighting a cigarette. Apparently the woman was pretty touchy, but what did he expect?
Geeta led Kyle outside the hallway and
to the building’s elevator, both stepping inside.
“So, that’s your place back there, I take it?” Kyle watched as the elevator doors closed.
“Yes.”
“Out of curiosity, if you travel through time, why do you have an apartment here in Arcadia?”
“I need some place to rest and pray.”
“Well, that’s great and all, but why pick this time, and Arcadia of all places? Couldn’t you have picked a better time or a more luxurious city?” Kyle asked, watching the glowing buttons of the elevators as they continued to ascend.
“I had a feeling about this time. Whenever I traveled through each time era, this particular era always gave me a strange feeling that I needed to be here.” Her purple eyes flashed, meeting his. “My instincts seemed to be right, as my prayers were answered finding you.” Her face turned away, patiently waiting for the elevator to make it to the top. “And the fact is, this time resonates with me. The culture, the openness of the people and views… It was the first and only time I felt like I was where I belonged.”
“Makes sense, I guess,” Kyle said, shrugging. “I suppose that’s why you dress like an Arcadian too, right?”
“Yep.”
The elevator stopped at another level, and more people poured into it. A few stared at Geeta’s wild hair, still sticking up straight as a razor. Geeta’s fashions were more from the lower levels than the mid-levels, where their elevator was stopped. “So where are we going, anyway? You didn’t say.”
Geeta raised an eyebrow, glancing at the others in the elevator. “All the way up,” she stated, then looked away.
The elevator climbed as high as their keycards would allow, then dinged at the highest point of the mid-levels. Kyle and Geeta stepped out along with a few other people that were in the elevator and were met with a widespread marbled floor and high ceilings.
Kyle sucked in his breath, taking in the building’s decor. The walls were made of glass panels with gold designs, and several resting areas had expensive lounge chairs, tables, lamps, and businesses scattered throughout. Never had Kyle been somewhere so extravagant. Other than the cathedral, that is. He felt so dirty and out of place compared to the clean, attractive architecture.