David watched the man limp away. Despite his injury, his gait was strong and wide, but David had seen his eyes, heard his voice. While Trog was tired—tired of fighting, tired of grieving, maybe even tired of life, he remained steadfast and true. Through the sadness in those piercing, peridot eyes, he saw determination, resolve, anger, even a distorted playfulness as he spoke of ridding the world of Einar. David had seen that playful mischief before … in Eric.
Eric.
What was he to do about Eric? There was no doubt Trog wanted his son back, just like David had wanted his parents back. Fortune granted David’s wish. What if he could grant Trog’s? What if a simple lily could undo the hurt and bring happiness into Trog’s life? Was it too much to ask? To consider? The man had sacrificed everything. What could it hurt?
Twiller had said once it was a bad idea to bring back the dead, but what if that person was taken too soon? What if Einar took what wasn’t his to take? Did that mean Eric was entitled to a do-over? Were there do-overs? There had to be. There were enough stories out there about people dying and coming back to life to share what they saw on the other side. If anyone deserved a do-over in life or in death, it was Eric. The more David toyed with the idea, the more it swelled within his belly and chest, the more it felt right in every way.
Except it didn’t.
There was a niggling doubt biting at him. He didn’t know where it came from or even what it was, but it was there; faint, almost nonexistent, but gnawing nonetheless. He was hoping for something more definitive from Trog, something more straightforward than figurative skin talk. But that was Trog, always talking in riddles. He never gave an easy answer, only ones where you had to figure out the meaning. It was nerve-wracking and irritating. For once, he just wished someone would tell him what to do.
A raindrop plopped on his head, followed by another. Gray clouds moved in over the hillside, a black curtain closing on a fiery sunset. Much to the protest of small voices, the men, women, and children collected their things and made their way back to the castle.
Halfway up the hill the sky opened. David ran. By the time he made it inside the castle, his hair was matted to his face, his sides hurt, and splattered mud covered his shoes and breeches to his knees. A valet rushed toward him, his face all aghast as if David had killed someone and left the body to bleed on the floor. He grasped David by the elbow and rushed him through a maze of corridors and hidden stairs, pontificating the whole way about using the servant’s entrance if ever caught in inclement weather again. Upon reaching David’s suite, the man settled David in a bath and absconded with the mound of dirty clothes.
David closed his eyes, his muscles unwinding in the warm, sage-scented water, his thoughts on a time not long ago when, during a torrential downpour, he almost kissed Charlotte for the first time. He’d almost told her he loved her, too, but Lily and Charlotte’s parents showed up out of nowhere, and his words and feelings retreated to a safe and guarded place in his heart where they remained locked away. Part of him wished they still were.
***
David yawned and tossed the book he was reading on the table next to him. He stretched his sore muscles and patted his stomach, still stuffed from a scrumptious dinner of quails drowned in butter, a beef-bacon spinach pie, and lemon cakes. The realm may be at war, but he had to say the king and queen made sure their people were well fed. He didn’t know how. Maybe they had magical house elves. He didn’t care. All that was certain was that one day soon, he’d be knee-deep in the trenches and would be lucky to have a mud pie to eat.
He glanced over at Charlotte lounging across from him in a wide, overstuffed chair, her legs draped over one of its fat, bulbous arms, her head resting on the other. One arm lay over her forehead, the other draped across her stomach. She stared at the ceiling, her hair billowing everywhere around her. She reminded him of Rapunzel and wondered if her hair held magical powers, too. He turned on his side and propped up on an elbow. “Whatcha thinking?”
She heaved a heavy sigh and turned on her side to face him. “Everything, mainly home. Wondering if—”
The library door flew open and banged into the credenza behind it.
“Charlotte, get on your feet!” Mangus bellowed as he stormed in.
David’s insides jumped. Charlotte jolted upright, her eyes wide, her mouth open.
“What were you thinking trailing the hillside like that?” Mangus barked. “Do you have any idea how you have jeopardized this kingdom? Yourself?”
“I-I don’t understand,” Charlotte replied. “Why are you mad at me? What did I do wrong?”
Slavandria drifted into the room with all the sound of a whisper. She stood beside Mangus, her chin high, her shoulders back.
Hmm, this is not good, David thought. The united parental front.
“You exposed yourself to everyone for what you are!” Mangus continued. “It’s all anyone is talking about tonight. The Numí girl who can breathe life into the blackest earth.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Charlotte asked, standing. “I thought I was supposed to embrace all of me. Learn about everything I can do.”
“Blast it, girl, we are at war! You don’t flash the most lethal weapon you have in your arsenal to the enemy!”
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. “Weapon? Enemy? Is that what I am to you? A weapon?”
“Yes, to Einar and his armies, you are, which means you do not, under any circumstance, embrace your abilities in broad daylight where everything you do can be taken back to the dragon’s lair to be gathered and used against you and us.”
Charlotte folded her arms across her chest. “Well, if you’d handed out the memo on the rules and regulations, I wouldn’t have put you all in danger.”
“It isn’t just us, girl!” His face was red, his jaw tight. He looked as if he was about to give birth to a cow. “You put yourself in danger, too. If Einar gets wind that there is a Numí amongst us—”
“He’ll what?” Charlotte asked. “Kill me?” Electricity sparked and danced over her arms, engulfing them in a lavender glow. “Let him try.”
David cringed at her defiance. Did she not remember Mangus and Slavandria were mages? Why, they could throw her on the other side of the universe if they wanted.
Then again, she could probably throw herself back.
Slavandria slid by Mangus and brushed her fingers along his arm. He turned away, grinding his teeth. Slavandria steepled her fingers to her lips and mumbled something beneath her breath before lowering her hands and clasping her daughter’s. The power rippling over Charlotte’s arms fizzed and arched, then faded altogether.
“How did you do that?” Charlotte asked. “How do you make it just go away?”
“It comes with training. Right now, you are like a newborn. Your power is raw. Wild. It is all over the place because you do not know how to control it. If you were to meet Seyekrad or Einar in battle right now, you would do more harm to yourself than to them. You must control the anger, redirect it. It’s the only way to defeat them.”
“Them? Since when did Einar become plural? Defeating Seyekrad wasn’t part of the deal when I accepted your proposal. Kill the dragon. That’s my job.”
Slavandria hesitated for a moment and took a few breaths. “You are right. I should have said, ‘defend yourself against him.’ We do not expect you to kill Seyekrad.”
“I expect her to do whatever she needs to do to put that beast in the ground!” Mangus said. He spun around, his finger pointed at Charlotte. “And you will cull your attitude. You are far too mouthy, and I will not put up with it. It matters not to me if your other parents allow you to speak to them in such a manner, but I will not tolerate your disrespect for me or your mother in this world. If you so choose, your actions will be met with harsh punishment.” Charlotte opened her mouth to speak. Mangus shook his head. “Do not do it. Close it before you get your first lesson in obedience.”
Charlotte laughed. “Obedience? I don�
�t have to obey you.”
Slavandria squinched her eyes and hung her head.
Mangus snapped his fingers.
Charlotte whimpered. Her eyes widened. She turned to David, desperation seeping from her eyes.
David’s pulse raced as his gaze drifted to her lips, both pinched together, literally stitched shut. He flew off the couch. “Hey! What are you doing? Let her go!” He hurried to Charlotte’s side. He cupped her face in his hands, his heart fluttering.
Fear.
Incompetence.
Breathe. Breathe.
One.
Two.
Three.
Help her. Now. Do something. Anything! He charged Mangus. “Stop it! She’s your daughter!” He tugged on Mangus’ arm.
A blast of icy energy surged into David’s body and raced through his veins, crippling him with liquid fire. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. Mangus moved closer to Charlotte, his boot steps echoing in the room. He held Charlotte’s chin in the curl of his fingers and swept the tears from her cheeks with his thumb.
“If I release you, will you be quiet?”
Charlotte nodded.
Mangus swept a hand in front of her face, and the stitching disappeared from her lips. She sniffled and rubbed her arms as if brushed by a cold breeze. A snap of his fingers and David’s body fell limp as a noodle. He caught the arm of a chair and slipped into it on his way to the floor.
Mangus stood before Charlotte, his eyes staring into hers. They were full of love, concern, fear. “I am sorry. I should not have reacted in such a way, but I had to quiet you and make you listen. I know your emotions are scattered right now. I know you do not want me or Slavandria telling you what to do. I understand you do not see us as your parents, and I will accept that, but when we try to tell you something, I implore you to quell your anger and listen as if your life depended on it, because it probably does. What happened on the hillside today could have turned ugly with the same ease and speed you used to make it beautiful.”
“But it didn’t,” Charlotte said, her tone quiet and respectful.
Mangus guided her into the chaise. He knelt before her, his hands cupped around hers. Slavandria sat in the chair beside her. “You’re right,” Mangus said. “It didn’t. You were very lucky. Still, we do not know if there were spies within our midst that will take the information back to Einar. Granted, he already knows you have powers. From what I understand, you put on quite a show on the battlefield. Seyekrad is also aware and will begin preparations to annihilate you. Right now, we do not believe he knows you are the youngest heir to the throne. What is certain is their recognition of you as a viable threat. They will want to kill you, and they will not stop until they do so. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
David’s blood went cold. Mangus was right. Einar would come for her regardless of whether she was the heir or not. He had to stop them, some way, somehow.
“Tomorrow, you will start your training with me. You will learn how to wield a sword. You will learn to fight. We haven’t much time, and you need to at least know the basics. We will continue your training all day, every day for a week, and I promise you, there will not be a day you will not wish for my demise. You will have one day of reprieve, and that will be the day of Eric’s burial. After training with me during the day, Slavandria will take over. If time allows, we would like for that training to be extended for another week. During your time with her, you will learn to throw up shields, block spells and deflect whatever Seyekrad throws at you, and trust me, he will come at you hard.”
A tear fell down Charlotte’s cheek. She hugged herself and rocked ever so slightly.
Slavandria moved to her side and put an arm around her. “We are not trying to scare you, Charlotte. You need to understand this is not a game. This is real. You have so much power inside of you, and you need to know how to wield it. It is time to become what you were born to be.”
Charlotte turned to Slavandria. “You will protect me, right? You won’t send me in there all alone to fight him, will you?”
Slavandria shook her head. “No. We will never leave you alone. Mangus and I will be right there the whole time. We will protect you with everything we have and more.”
“That doesn’t mean to let us do all the work,” Mangus said. “You will need to be on guard at all times, looking for anything and anyone out of place. It is how Seyekrad and Einar work. They infiltrate by air, by animal, by person. The most innocent looking bird could be their eyes and ears. You should always be wary, always on the lookout, and be careful what you say. Never give anything away.” He shifted his gaze to David. “You remember that lesson, don’t you?”
David gulped and nodded, remembering his meeting with Mangus on the Windsong in Chalisdawn. With the trick of his tongue, Mangus managed to get David to confess he was in the library the night the mage visited Lily. Worst part, David didn’t even realize Mangus had done it until it was too late. It was a valuable lesson and a mistake he vowed never to repeat.
Charlotte gathered her shawl and slipped it around her shoulders. “I understand and will do what you ask.” She stood and glanced at David. He wanted to hold her, chase away all the sorrow he saw in her eyes, pluck the weight off her slumped shoulders. “You’ve made your point. However, the next time you wish to chew me out, leave David out of it.”
“Honey, we’re not chewing you out,” Slavandria said. “We’re only—”
“I know what you’re doing, and don’t call me ‘honey’ or ‘sweetie’ or any other name of endearment. I might be your daughter by birth, but you are not my mother, so please stop insinuating yourself into my life as if you are.” She straightened, her gaze connected to Mangus’ as he rose. “I apologize for the way I spoke to you. It was uncalled for and rude, however, I will not stand by and let you react again in such a manner. I am not your enemy. Do not treat me as one.”
Mangus nodded. “Agreed.”
“What time and where shall we meet in the morning, and shall I bring anything?”
“Sunrise, in the queen’s garden. Wear comfortable clothes. There will be no need for anything else.”
“I’ll be there. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed. Good night.” She strolled toward the door, and mouthed, “Thank you,” to David before she left, closing the door behind her.
Slavandria sat down on the chaise Charlotte had vacated. “That girl is going to be the death of all of us.”
David stood. “You’re wrong,” he said. “She’s going to save us all.” He turned to leave the room, his legs still a bit wobbly, but he refused to let Mangus see.
“I apologize for my behavior,” the mage said. “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”
David stopped and stared at the door. “Apology accepted.” It was all he could think to say.
“Try to get some sleep,” Mangus said.
“I will. I have something to tend to, first. Something to do for Trog.”
“Anything we can help you with?”
David glanced over his shoulder. “No. It’s something I’ve been mulling over for a few days. Time to put the plan into action. I’ll see you later.” He opened the door.
“David?” Slavandria said. “Please do not do anything you may regret.”
“I’ll do my best.”
And he was gone, off to collect his bow and quiver of endless arrows. After all, how would he kill a horde of vorgrants without them?
Charlotte
The horses nickered as Charlotte entered the moonlit stables.
Several aisles away someone moved, and a whispered shush touched her ears, the same shush that lured her inside to begin with. Curious, she pulled her cloak tighter to her and followed the sound, staying to the shadows. Rounding a stall, she saw David at the far end saddling a stallion black as pitch with piercing, sapphire-blue eyes, and at least fifteen hands high.
Her shoulders relaxed, and she exhaled a long br
eath. “Hey.”
David pivoted on his heels and nocked an arrow from his quiver. His narrowed eyes softened as he lowered his bow. “Jeez criminy, Charlotte,” he said, shaking his head and sliding the arrow back home again. “You almost got it between the eyes.”
“I guess it’s a good thing you always look before you shoot.” She strolled toward him, her eyes on the empty rucksack on the ground. “Where are you going?”
“Out.” He eyed her warily. “What are you doing skulking around in the middle of the night?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
The horse nickered, and she stroked his soft muzzle.
“I wonder why.” He cinched the saddle one last time and tossed the reins over the horse’s neck. “How are your lips?”
“Fine.”
“Did it hurt, you know, when he did it?”
She shook her head. “No, but I could feel the threads zipping through my skin and my lips being pulled together. It happened so fast that I didn’t really know what happened until I tried to say something, and I couldn’t. It freaked me out. I couldn’t think of anything except I couldn’t speak.” She leaned against a post. “I suppose I am untrained. A Numí goddess would be able to snap out of a spell like that with no problem.”
“Probably, but I wouldn’t beat yourself up over it. I’m sure after a few days with Slavandria, you’ll be able to counter attack, though I wouldn’t choose Mangus Grythorn as your first guinea pig.”
The stable grew quiet except for the sound of David’s feet shuffling around in the hay and soft horse knickers.
Charlotte hugged herself. “How did you do it, David? How did you get a grip on who you are and what you can do? Slavandria, Mangus, they expect so much out of me. I’m not sure if I can deliver.”
Bane of the Dragon King Page 7