“Bow,” the woman’s voice that brought him here answered.
Even though he refused to obey, the cloaked men tossed him before the throne. A woman sat on an elevated throne with a carved gold spider-scorpion creature as her footstool.
“Am I dreaming?” Landon asked. How could this be? Elvin with grayish skin and white hair living in caves?
“You’re not.” The woman on the throne answered. “We Drow have been mocked and ridiculed by his people—once our people.” She pointed to Brock. “Tell him.”
“Celeste is my light. She saved me through the darkness of my curse and myself. If not for her, I would have drifted to the path of the Drow.”
Landon looked at him questioningly. He knew myths of the Drow from books, but how much knowledge about them was lost?
“Long ago, before we sequestered ourselves from the humans, the Drow separated from us, the Elvin. They lived in shadows and used their magic for self-gain and harm rather than for the benefit of others. Some said their skin became dark lavender for the darkness in their hearts, others said their eyes turned red from the bloodshed.”
“Lies!” the Queen yelled. “You see how his kind hold untruths and prejudices against us? We broke off from the tree elves to live among the humans, not hide away behind a magical barrier. When the Shadow Wars and plagues came, we were here fighting and healing, while the Elvin looked down their arrogant noses at us from the tops of their tree cities. For our dedication and sacrifice, we were exiled by his kind and labeled heretics and traitors.”
The guards pushed back their cloaks and Landon saw their coloring was the same as hers. “You are the Warloc’s progenies?”
“Nay.” She laughed. “We’re the banished by our kind. As I believe Brock is as well?”
“I’m no traitor. My people shunned your kind long before the wars and the barrier.” Brock struggled against the guards holding him back.
“Neither are we traitors.” She straightened as she addressed him. “Yet that is what your kind labeled our ancestors long ago. We’ve survived and flourished here.”
“Do not anger them,” Jeslyn hissed.
“Where are Celeste and Mirhana?” Brock asked.
“They are safe,” she looked between him and Landon, “much safer than you are now.”
Landon rose to clasp his hands around her throat. The guards were closer than he thought. “If you hurt them—”
“You are in no position to threaten.” She rose and glared at him; her eyes were the purple of irises. “Orders will be given to kill them if you do not cooperate. Although, the longer you delay by ranting, the more the poisons work into their bodies. Only we have the venom’s antidote.”
She waited until he gave a short nod then with a wave of her hand the guards dropped his arms.
“What do you want from me?” Landon asked.
“Not just you, but Mirhana, Celeste, and Brock as well.”
“Take me in their place.” Landon bowed. “My kingdom will pay for my return.”
“Do you think we lack for coin when the very earth provides us with gold and jewels?”
“Tell us what you want,” Brock said between clenched teeth as gloved guards held him back.
Landon saw that they wore gloves and guessed that was why they did not fall down dead as had the villagers had when they touched his skin.
“We’ve lived for thousands of years with our banishment. Yet, the gods have favored us, for we kept our magic longer, unlike you tree elves.” Her mauve robes swished as she paced. “However, the last generation born has shown little magic.”
“What does that have to do with us?” Landon asked.
“Everything,” she snapped. “Brock has been blessed with the power to take life. Celeste has powers of witch, and to heal. Mirhana has a hint of the Elvin magic of long ago. You all have magic inside you, even if you do not realize it.”
Still, he did not know what she wanted exactly. The cavern darkened as he dreaded what she would say next.
“We’ll mix our blood with yours, joining us in making our offspring.”
“Nay.” Brock choked. “If we do not stop the Warloc and his progeny by Beltane … We must get to Cape Seyechell, or all will perish.”
“Mortals do not concern us.” She waved a hand as if shooing a fly. The color of her grey skin still made Landon queasy. “Whoever rules the land on the surface is not our concern.”
“It should be. His progeny works to bring the Warloc back, to his full immortal strength.” Landon frowned.
“Still, he’s no concern of ours. Our immediate threat is the dying of our magic. I am the last of our kind with the gift of prophecy. And with Brock, our child will have this gift as well.”
“Then why not mate with one of your own kind? I have no magic of foresight,” Brock answered.
“But you do.” She leaned until her face was close to his. The guards tightened their hold on him. “The power of the Troblin to make dreams merged with yours, and created foresight.”
He shook his head.
“Did you not observe the stable burning nearly a month before it happened?”
“I didn’t know it was a vision. Magic was never a part of me before.”
“This is why we must mate now.” Her violet eyes brightened. “While the magic of the Troblin is still a part of you, the power of making dreams reality.”
If Brock could make dreams happen, then Landon wished for them to be free of this nightmare. He could not bear the thought of touching anyone but Mirhana. What was he to do about Kavith, his betrothed? And now with these Drow.
“Wait, I cannot control the visions, nor can anyone touch me and live,” Brock said.
“We have other ways of mating besides touch.” With a flip of her white hair, she sat down on the throne. “Dangerous, aye. Necessary to continue the magic of our race, though.”
As if she spoke silently to the guards, they hauled them from the throne room.
Chapter Eighteen
They tossed Landon and Brock into a dark hole. The shadow halted their fall until their feet brushed the floor. Then it released them and disappeared.
After his sight adjusted, the Queen leaned over the side. The cave opening was a distance of at least sixty feet high.
“Flint stones and kindling are on the table. Within the hour, food will be brought.” The light behind her made her grey skin appear translucent. “I suggest you use the water to bathe. A change of clothes is on the bed.”
“What of Mirhana? And the others?” Landon asked.
“They will be healed, after you both agree to our arrangement. The other two have been released.”
There was a grinding sounded as the guards moved a boulder into place.
Three strikes of the flint stones, and then Brock nursed the flame onto a piece of kindling. Landon lifted one of the torches from the wall, and the flame brought light to their prison.
Only one bed was shoved into a corner, but Landon didn’t think either of them would sleep. A table held two plates, kindling, and the flint stones. Two chairs carved from stone with velvet-lined seats sat next to the table.
In the far corner, water drizzled into a stone pool. The walls were too slick to climb.
Landon set the torch inside a mount along the wall.
Brock flopped down in one of the chairs. In the silence, Landon paced. He gritted his teeth as he debated what to do, but no answers came.
• • •
After they washed and changed clothes, a white tablecloth filled with food floated down the opening and then landed on the table. The four corners hung on the shadow, cascaded down.
There was roasted duck with basil and rosemary, and potatoes chopped and coated with butter and onions sat in the center. Bread and sweetmeats smells mingled with the rest of the food. Even though he was hungry, he could not stomach the idea of food while not knowing what had happened to Mirhana.
An image of the Queen stood before them, her robes the colors
of the cave walls. “Do we have an agreement?”
“Not until you heal Mirhana and Celeste.” Landon narrowed his eyes and prayed she wouldn’t call his bluff.
“Only with Celeste’s acknowledgement will I listen to any of your demands.” Brock clenched his fists.
“Bring her and Mirhana, healed, before us and you will have your answer at sunrise,” Landon added.
“Very well.” She sighed. “They’ve been healed already.”
“And what of Jeslyn? Gillespie?” Landon moved closer to her image.
“They are of no use to us.”
“If any harm has come—”
“Do not threaten me. As I have said before, they are well. Both are on the surface, unable to locate our entrance. Soon, they’ll give up and be on their way. “Although our laws hold me guiltless if I executed Jeslyn.”
“She saved my life with the Troblin,” Landon whispered. “Laws are written and unwritten by royalty to serve their own purpose.” He did not add that Mirhana had saved him several times already, both physically and from a loveless union he would have had with Kavith, even if Mirhana did not know it.
In acquiescence, she gave a brief nod. “The others will join you for the meal.”
The boulder grated open and the shadow swept down like a raven. When the shadow withdrew, Celeste and Mirhana stood before them.
Mirhana wore her black hair unbound and curled down to her hips. Her gown was white with the gold and silver threads crisscrossed into the pattern. It reminded him of a wedding garment, and he swallowed back rage for he knew the dress was not for his benefit. At the sight of her, Landon was breathless. It took everything not to tell her how he felt. Instead, he gave her a tight hug and heard the air come out of her in a gush.
Celeste’s hair was damp and braided with gold and silver threads. She, too, wore a white gown identical to Mirhana’s.
“As agreed.” The Queen’s voice vibrated off the stone walls. “You have until dawn.”
“What did you promise her?” Mirhana raised an eyebrow.
“Did the Queen tell you what she wants?” Landon asked.
“Aye.”
“Eat first. Then we’ll discuss plans.” It was bad enough he was supposed to marry Kavith. Now this Drow Queen wanted him to mate somehow? All he could think about was Mirhana and what her lips would taste like.
With the women’s arrival, the shadow brought two other chairs. While the others ate, Brock watched.
Afterward, they each tried to find a way out. Celeste levitated to the top of the cave; an invisible force knocked her backwards. Mirhana used one of the knives from the meal to chip away at the cave wall, but the blade snapped into pieces.
“Must be enchanted,” she mumbled.
All of them sat in silence. Celeste picked at her food. When Brock caught him staring at his sister, Landon gulped his wine.
“I’ll not be some broodmare.” Mirhana slapped her fork down. “Did you not tell them of the Warloc and his progeny?”
“They don’t care. Their desire to continue their line matters to them, not the destruction of all else.” Brock leaned forward, letting his arms rest on the table.
“What is it they want of us exactly?” Landon asked.
“Magic.” Celeste pushed her half-eaten food away.
“I’ve no magic,” Landon huffed.
Mirhana narrowed her green eyes as if discerning what the Drows saw. “Must have something. Otherwise they’d have released you with Jeslyn and Gillespie.”
“I’m only a man.”
“Arguing won’t solve our problems.” Brock reached over and took Celeste’s hand. “The point is we’re not going to bend to their wishes. How do we escape?”
“I’ll not marry anyone.” Mirhana shook her head. “Nor will I birth a half—Drow child.”
“The Queen said there were other ways to … ” Landon’s voice faded.
“With magic,” Mirhana finished for him.
Chapter Nineteen
They debated plans until Celeste leaned heavily against Brock.
“We’ve found no answer.” He rose and took Celeste into his arms. “Four torches already burned out and the fifth now wanes. Let us rest. Perhaps the morning will bring answers we cannot find.”
“Agreed. Let the women take the bed.” Landon swayed on his feet. “I’ll sleep on the floor—or anywhere.”
Mirhana and Celeste crawled into bed. Landon, true to his words, fell asleep on the floor with the tablecloth folded underneath his head as a pillow. Hours later, a body pressed against his. Groggy, he fought sleep to sit up.
“Shh … Brock is on the bed with Celeste. They are just holding each other. I-I thought maybe you were cold, here on the stone floor.”
He didn’t care what her reasoning was, pulled her to him, and smiled when he heard her soft sigh.
His winter rose was beginning to open her petals for him, and he couldn’t wait to gaze into and kiss her depths.
• • •
First light must have come, for the shadow returned and the Queen stood at the opening. “Come. We are ready.”
The band across Landon’s insides tightened.
• • •
The Drow led them into a chamber lined with granite walls. Tools Landon had never seen before lined up on a slab of rock did not ease his apprehension.
Guards, women, and children watched the Queen approach the instruments.
“Last night, we received a warning.” Her voice rang through the crowd. “The Warloc’s progeny promised our clans peace.”
A cheer rose up. How Landon wanted to shout against them. Neither the Warloc nor his progeny honored peace. Evil and destruction were their bedmates.
“However, our magic dwindles, and we must make use of our prisoners.”
With a nod, two guards grasped Landon and then dragged him toward her. “I—I have no magic.”
She ignored him and picked up a spiral knife. As he struggled, another guard jerked his arms forward. All of the guards wore thick leather gloves, as if instructed to have them as part of their uniform for dealing with Brock.
Whispering words Landon did not understand, she waved the blade above his arm. Then she plunged the dagger into his forearm. He did not scream, but grunted. Mirhana rushed forward, but guards held her back.
Blood poured from the wound into a flask. Thick blood, color so dark it was nearly black.
A girl with a round face and pale violet eyes skipped forth. When she reached the Queen, she stopped.
“He’s no different than us. Heal him as you would any other creature.”
The girl nodded and waited until the Queen removed the blade, then she dug her fingers into Landon’s wound and he gasped. Her hands were icy and sharp.
An amber glow radiated from the girl into his flesh. Her fingers grew warm, like a soothing sun on a brisk autumn day.
“Is that all you will take from me?” Landon asked as the girl dropped her arms.
“Nay,” the Queen took a pair of tongs from the table, “we also require two teeth.”
“My lady, you have my blood. I cannot give you this power you seek.”
“Hold him down,” she ordered.
More guards rushed forward as Landon fought against them.
“Open his mouth wider.”
“He bit me.” A guard lamented.
“Wider.”
The metal tongs pressed into his mouth.
“If you’re not still, then I’ll take the ones in front.”
Landon clenched his fist, but his struggle slowed.
“Now let me reach the ones in the back.”
“Wait!” Celeste shouted. “We have dragon teeth.”
Landon wondered what good that would do. The Queen cocked her head as if considering. Her gesture baffled him. How were his teeth better than a dragon’s?
“Show me.”
The guards marched to Celeste, and she placed her hands on her hips. “They’re in our pack, with my ho
rse.”
“Go get their belongings.” The Queen released Landon. “If you lie, I will take five of his.”
Celeste dipped into a curtsy.
The guards left to follow the Queen’s orders.
• • •
“While we wait.” She waved her hand, and guards dragged Mirhana forward. “You know the blood pact of the witches?”
“Aye.” Mirhana nodded. When she mingled her blood with another witch, she gave the ability of her inheritance and gifts, and received the other’s in return. It made them closer than anyone in a family could be. And the bond refused to allow either person to betray the other, lest it cause searing pain throughout their body.
However, if the person had no magic, as she sensed in the Drow, it would heighten their awareness. They would carry a bit of her magic inside themselves, not able to use it directly, but it would pass along to their offspring if they married another with a hint of power as well.
Mirhana and this Drow would be linked, each feeling the other’s strong emotions and knowing when they were in close proximity to each other.
Mirhana did not mind the blood pacts she did with the witches. Then, it was comforting to have this tie. But with this Drow, it felt like a shackle.
“So be it. This will merge our blood with yours and theirs.”
“Why do you do this?” Landon asked as if he wanted to delay this blood pact and thought perhaps that he could reason with them.
“I told you.” The Queen glared at him. “This ritual will not only increase our magic, but even if dormant as it will be in Drong’ka, he will carry it in his seed to his offspring. It will be three or perhaps four generations before we will have to seek to do this again.”
“Let us fight the Warloc together,” Brock said. “As one race, as our kind was before. Then Celeste and Nivel can figure out how to gain your magic back.”
“We have all we want from the Warloc and his Sorceress. Wars and deadwalkers will not harm us. They have given their word if we do as they wish, none of my people will be harmed and they will share with us more secrets like this to enhance and gain our magic.”
“Do not trust either of them!” Mirhana shouted. “They are liars and will destroy you the second you are no longer of use to them. Can you not see they are leading you to your own destruction?”
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