The Other Worlds (The Other Worlds Series Book 1)

by M. L. Greye

  Sazx sighed. Despite his absolute distaste of using the Saerdian brothers, they could prove to be an advantage to Dagon once again. “Very well. Describe the girl’s appearance to me and I will have Dagon search for her in his Vrylaen Stone.”

  Pavn smiled, somewhat smugly, obviously pleased with himself for persuading Sazx. “Other than her dark hair and fiery green eyes, according to my officer, Tiara is almost identical to the princess.”

  That caught Sazx’s attention. He blinked. “How so?”

  “I’ve never seen the princess, but my officer claims that if he had not known better, he would have mistaken them to be the same person. Apparently, Tiara and the princess have the same face.”

  Now Sazx was intrigued. He sat back in his chair across from Pavn, musing. They were in his personal study in Caprith, his desk between them. After a moment, Sazx asked, “Do you know the lineage of this Tiara Anteal?”

  The Kendren shook his head. “Only that she is from Drivian and was found in the home once belonging to the Equilan Avlin Delqueda.”

  Sazx raised one eyebrow. “Dagon’s cousin?”

  “Dagon’s cousin?” Pavn repeated, frowning.

  “Do you not know your own history?” Sazx grunted. Of course he wouldn’t know. The Kendrens were more obsessed with what came next than anything that had happened generations before them. How ironic that Olinia would pair herself with this particular Saerd.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Avlin Delqueda is the daughter of Queen Archelda’s twin sister, Ardrian,” Sazx told him. “Ardrian was the heir to Balinorre, but she gave up the throne along with her gifts, to marry the Saerdian king, Devin Delqueda.” Sazx watched as Pavn’s eyes slowly grew larger. “Ardrian died in childbirth. Devin, unsure of how to raise the child, gave her to the Equilan and married again, creating other heirs. Avlin could have claimed her throne. However, she chose to remain an Equilan. The last Dagon had heard of his cousin was that she had retired and married a Saerd.” By now, Pavn’s eyes were bulging. Sazx raised another eyebrow. “Are you so sure this Tiara is not the daughter of Avlin?”

  “And if she is…” Pavn’s voice trailed off, unable to finish audibly.

  Sazx nodded. “Then, she is the rightful heir to the Saerds. She could claim your throne.”

  “That snake couldn’t possibly be.”

  “And a slave could never be the heir to the Other Worlds,” Sazx retorted.

  The Kendren grimaced. “Do you realize what this means?” He stood abruptly. “My brothers must be informed.”

  “Naturally.”

  “No one can know of her existence, of her rivalry to our throne.” He bowed at the waist. “Our alliance is still in tact, more so now than before. Her capture will be most appreciated.”

  Sazx watched him go. The Kendren lord’s reaction had been amusing. Sazx was surprised Pavn had not discerned Tiara’s birthright himself. No, Sazx wasn’t really that surprised. Pavn only cared about Tiara because she had not cowered down before him. He was a simpleton, devoted to his seduction of women. Little wonder why his elder brother had not accompanied him to Caprith. This girl meant nothing to Ryth. Sazx grunted. Well, that was about to change.

  Letting his breath out in a rush, Sazx leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes with his hands. He was anxious over Dagon’s latest set of orders. The idea of seducing a Wend, who could most likely read his mind not only frustrated him, it disgusted him. Dagon wished him to take advantage of Olinia – a mere child! She was still young and impulsive. Forcing himself upon her would be too easy. Despite her rich Eveon blood, she was still part Saerd. The thought of wooing a Saerd, of aligning himself with such blood, made him ill.

  No, he couldn’t lie to himself. She was the heir to the Other Worlds. High Royalty. That was what was making him sick. Her blood intimidated him. She was the heir to the throne he secretly revered. To Sazx, her blood was the highest power in the Other Worlds. It was the idea of pulling her away from her path that Sazx loathed. She was Dagon’s battle, not his. Why must Dagon drag him into personal affairs?

  A knock sounded on his door. Sazx glanced up. “Come in.”

  His Third, Kor, entered. “Captain,” he bowed briskly, “we have found her, the Silver Heart.”

  Some good news. Sazx straightened. “Very well, bring me the necklace.”

  “She is not wearing it, Captain.”

  He blinked. “Then, why are you reporting the capture of a Silver Heart?”

  “She’s the one we’ve been chasing,” Kor assured. “She simply gave it to someone to wear for her.”

  “Ah,” Sazx leaned back in his chair once more, “the girl has a lover.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Discover who he is.”

  Kor nodded. “I have already begun the process.”

  Sazx raised an eyebrow. “How?”

  “I’ve sent her to the Dark.”

  “The Dark?” Sazx’s frustration returned. Nothing positive ever came from the Dark. His mouth hardened. Was Kor really that ignorant? “Tell me, who had that brilliant idea?”

  His Third blinked, surprised by the question. “I did, sir. It will weaken her. She will tell us where to find her lover.”

  Sazx passed a hand across his eyes, struggling to hide his growing irritation. “You be sure your plan works, Kor. Until then, continue searching for the Heart. I doubt she will give you any sort of information regarding her lover’s whereabouts.” He frowned. “And when she does not, the consequences will be on your head.”

  * * * * * *

  Was it still raining? Or was the noise just coming from her head? Tiara winced at the pain, and not just from her head. Her entire body was aching. She was even sore in her bones – a feeling Tiara had not known possible. But she was finally warm, which partially frightened her. She had the vague sense that she was supposed to be freezing. The only explanation she could give for the transformation was that she must be dead. But she knew this couldn’t be the real reason. Her head wouldn’t hurt so badly if she was really dead.

  Tiara moaned inwardly as she struggled to open her eyes. Just the slight effort caused her more pain. What had happened to her?

  “She’s waking. Go get your father.”

  Arthelian. Now, Tiara groaned out loud. She remembered what had happened – Time taking her to some deserted world, almost getting trampled by horses, rescued by Kendrens. Tiara grimaced. Kendrens of all people! It was truly impossible for her to be rid of them. Served her right for allowing herself to fall in love with one of them.

  A cool, damp cloth was placed over her forehead. Tiara pulled a face. She didn’t want to open her eyes anymore.

  “Is she really awake?” The deep voice startled Tiara. She hadn’t heard anyone approach her, and his voice was close.

  “I think so,” a softer voice answered. Tiara recognized it as the first voice she had heard. “Gyrvin, could you hand me that blanket on the chair? She’s shivering again.”

  Was she? Tiara frowned. Maybe she wasn’t as warm as she had thought.

  “Mamma, has she said anything?” A child asked. Tiara guessed it was a boy.

  “Not yet,” the softer voice replied.

  All three had an all too familiar lilt to their accents. Tiara suddenly felt sick as her mind recognized the tone with a start. Tlaid. The accent belonged to those from Tlaid. Archrin’s home and capital world of the Kendrens. Tiara was doomed. The Kendrens would kill her. She might as well have just died on the side of the road.

  What a horridly freezing world, might she add? Tiara still remembered Foehn’s promise that she would love his home world of Tlaid. Ha! Archrin had been right all along. Tiara hated Tlaid.

  The child’s mother sighed, bringing back Tiara’s attention. “Are you sure this is Tiara?”

  At the mention of her name, Tiara’s eyes snapped open, without even thinking through the consequences of her being fully awake. The woman – who appeared to be in her late twentie
s – blinked in surprise, while her young son stared wide-eyed by her side. Tiara flinched inwardly. She shouldn’t have awoken so fast. She forced herself upward to a sitting position, never removing her eyes from the woman.

  “Who are you?” She asked in Arthelian. It would be better for the woman to think she was somewhat loyal to the Kendrens, even if she already knew who Tiara was. “Where am I?” Even though she knew the answer to this question, Tiara figured it was only the natural thing to ask.

  “I am Lyda Voiel.” The woman responded after a moment. “This is my son, Trant, and this is our home.”

  Tiara frowned. She was finding it far more difficult to support herself upright than she had thought. Her head still felt like it was going to explode. She forced herself to focus. Lyda was a very pretty redhead with sea green eyes and a small, straight nose. But it was her name that had caused Tiara’s heart to speed. Voiel? Tiara searched her memory for where she had heard it before.

  “You’re pretty,” Trant blurted, startling both Tiara and his mother.

  Lyda laughed lightly, but Tiara caught the nervous edge to it. “You really shouldn’t sit up quite yet.” Lyda stood, standing from her old oak chair across from the bed.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Lyda didn’t look convinced.

  “It feels good to get up,” she assured.

  That was true. Sitting was much better than looking at them from her back. Tiara glanced around the room once. It was small, probably a guest room. The walls were a pale violet and the furnishings were a light colored wood. There was one chair, a nightstand, and the bed Tiara was on. A painting of some flowers hung on one of the walls, near the door. Tiara frowned again as she realized the room was one person short. Where was the man she had heard?

  “You sure you’re alright, dear?” Lyda ventured.

  Dear? Tiara blinked. Why would native Kendrens who knew her face be so kind as to rescue her from a downpour and take her into their home? “I have a name,” Tiara replied.

  Lyda laughed again, once more accompanied by that same nervous edge. “Of course you do.”

  “Why haven’t you asked me for it?” Tiara furrowed her eyebrows. “We’re strangers. I don’t know you, so I’m assuming you don’t know me either.”

  “She doesn’t know you.” The deep voice startled her.

  Tiara turned to the room’s doorway, and instantly her body went cold. “General Voiel.”

  He grunted. “Welcome to Tlaid, Miss Anteal.”

  * * * * * *

  Zedgry could have almost laughed out loud. “Walk out and be free.” How ironic. Sure, he’d left the imprisonment of Delvich, but not imprisonment all together. Illein had been right – Delvich was beatable. Her idea to walk into the wall of vines with their eyes shut had actually worked. Her reasoning had been that if they couldn’t see it, they might actually believe it wasn’t there. So they had walked right through it. Brilliant. They had managed to escape Delvich. But apparently, neither of them had thought past escaping. Outside of Delvich, Nagreth stood guard. Zedgry walked right into their outstretched swords, followed closely by Illein. And so, they were still captives. The Nagreth decided because he and Illein now knew Delvich’s secret, they could not be returned to the prison forest. No, instead, the Nagreth placed them within one of Dagon’s dungeons – a cell Zedgry doubted had seen human life for generations. Thanks to Delvich, Dagon didn’t have much use for his dungeons.

  “Zedge?”

  “Did I wake you?” He turned his head in her direction, not that the movement could help him see her. It was pitch black in their cell. He couldn’t even see the tip of his nose.

  She ignored his question. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “I can’t exactly tell time by the shadows down here.”

  “I thought you Wends could do anything,” she teased.

  “You must be mistaking me for my twin.”

  Illein hesitated. “Can she really do anything?”

  “Anything she puts her mind to.”

  “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  Zedgry shrugged, leaning his head back onto the cold stone he was sitting against. “Should it?”

  “Well, it would bother me,” she replied simply. “It just doesn’t seem fair that she has more gifts than you. I mean, you both are heirs.”

  “Fair?” Zedgry blinked. “I’ve never really thought that way about it.”

  “You mean to tell me that you have never wished to be as gifted as your twin?” He could hear her frowning.

  “Not really,” he admitted. “Olinia’s always been like that. It’s something to do with her being the eldest heir. They’re always the more gifted.”

  Illein was quiet for a moment. “But wouldn’t that make her take her gifts for granted?” Zedgry frowned as Illein quickly added, “It sounds to me that because she’s never had to work for her gifts, she doesn’t value them as you do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, she’s always been the heir, so does she actually respect and appreciate what she has?”

  Zedgry stared out into the darkness, for once glad of its cover. Illein’s words disturbed him, going so far as to slightly anger him. Olinia had worked for her gifts, same as him. And her throne wasn’t just given to her. In fact, she was still fighting to reclaim it from Dagon. At the moment, she wasn’t really princess of anything. Illein was wrong, and that frustrated him. She was speaking more like a member of the Vrenyx than the pretty Saerd he had become attached to. Zedgry pushed back the strands of his dirty hair that had stuck to his forehead before taking a deep breath to calm himself. Illein had never met his sister. She didn’t know what Olinia was like, or what she had been through.

  He took another gulp of air. “That’s where you’re mistaken, Illein. Olinia’s not that. She’s never made me, or anyone for that matter, feel like they were beneath her because we’re not as gifted as her. And she views her future throne with the utmost respect.”

  “Good.” Illein nuzzled her head against his chest. “I was only voicing my fears for you. I am happy to hear that I was wrong.”

  Zedgry nodded but was still frowning as she drifted back to sleep. Even if Illein hadn’t been entirely serious, he hadn’t liked what she had said.

  * * * * * *

  Tiara sipped up her soup as she listened, wide-eyed and staring. She would nod her head, but for the most part she just sat there, eating in shock. Not only had Archrin’s former superior, the attacker of her world, rescued her but had also taken her into his home, fed her, and clothed her. Never had she intended on ever seeing the man again. But apparently, General Voiel was home in Tlaid for some Kendren holiday, placing Tiara directly in his path. At least he hadn’t given her to Pavn quite yet. Maybe she still had time to flee. As she ate his wife’s hot, delicious soup, he gave her the updates of her world, which were basically what Ganin had already told her, and some facts about Tlaid. His calm, and somewhat trite, conversation was making Tiara anxious. Why couldn’t he just hurry up and tell her what he planned to do with her? Even if she was to be stretched, Tiara preferred knowing to sitting and waiting for an unknown sentence.

  When she finished her soup, Tiara pushed the bowl away from her on the table. She was in the kitchen of Voiel’s home, beside a crackling fire. Voiel paused as she wiped her mouth on a napkin and cleared her throat. “So, what now, General?”

  Voiel raised a graying eyebrow. “I’m sorry?”

  “What now?” She glanced up from her now empty bowl to his olive eyes. “Why did you take me in? Why have you treated me as a guest, rather than a captive?” She ran her tongue along the back of her teeth. “What hideous punishment do you have in store for me?”

  “Do you like my home, Miss Anteal?”

  Tiara blinked. “Yes.”

  “Have you inspected it carefully?”

  Again Tiara answered, “Yes.”

  “Look carefully, Miss Anteal.”

  Tiara obeyed, taking in
the gray slate floors, brick fireplace, dark wooden table and chairs, and the cast iron stove. It was a beautiful, spacious kitchen that spoke of wealth and excellent taste. It was both warm and cool, cozy yet clean. There was plenty of room for those it served, yet not too palatial as to be unfriendly. It was the sort of kitchen Tiara could imagine herself having. She frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “It’s not mine.”

  She turned, surprised. “To whom does it belong?”

  “Like everything else in Tlaid, it belongs to the Kendren brothers.”

  Tiara was staring again. “I’m not understanding where you’re going with this. Are you saying you’re no more Kendren than I am? That you’re like Archrin – that it’s just a job?”

  Voiel smiled slightly – a tight grimace, actually. “No, Miss Anteal. I’m afraid I’m a little more radical than your Captain Lorth.”

  “How so?”

  He sighed and passed a hand over his eyes. “Do you know where I can find Archrin? Where were you last with him?”

  “You want Archrin?” Tiara furrowed her eyebrows. “For what?”

  “Before you came along, Miss Anteal, I was in the midst of recruiting him for a project of mine. Unfortunately, he became distracted by the locals.” Voiel gestured towards Tiara.

  She felt her face turn red, but forced herself to ignore it. “What sort of project, General?”

  “It isn’t a lady’s matter. Please, just let me know where you last saw Captain Lorth.”

  Tiara watched him silently. Up until this moment, she had only met the middle-aged Kendren warrior once, when Foehn had led her from her home to the governor’s. At the time, he had looked powerful in perfect uniform and under complete control of his surroundings. But Tiara had never felt fear of this man, only anger and hatred. Her former anger was returning, in the form of a rapidly growing irritation. The general was tossing her aside as an ignorant woman, when he had not the slightest inkling of what she had been through during the past few weeks. Tiara’s eyes narrowed.