Throne of Deceit

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Throne of Deceit Page 6

by K.N. Lee


  “A couple of days,” Deter said. “I felt the call to visit you after our time in Hempstead.”

  Ms. Croft entered with a tray full of the items Tolwin asked for. She set it on the table, and poured two glasses. “Do you need anything else, your highness?”

  “No, Ms. Croft. You sleep well.”

  “Very well, your highness. Thank you. You do the same.”

  After picking up a glass of wine, Tolwin crossed the room to sit in a chair that faced the rest of the room. The wooden floor had the hide of a bear stretched across it, and was warmed by a fireplace that crackled from the far corner. It cast a dim light onto Deter’s face.

  Deter picked up a glass and sat near the fireplace. “Your lovely house manager was telling me how much things have changed since the rebels in the Tidelands were silenced.”

  “It hasn’t changed that much,” Tolwin said, watching the flames lick the logs. “There is still unrest. Just, less blood flows through the grooves of the forests and villages.”

  Tolwin and Deter’s eyes met. He almost thought he saw something unusual in the Ocurus’ eyes.

  “How long are you staying?”

  “That remains to be seen. I have come here with a mission of my own,” Deter replied, running his finger along the rim of his glass.

  “Right,” Tolwin said, knowing. “Tell me, Ocurus, am I your mission?”

  Deter set his wine glass down and leaned forward. His face went serious as he looked to Tolwin with narrowed eyes.

  “Yes, your highness,” Deter said, his voice lowering. “I’ve come to collect your soul.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tolwin’s face heated at Deter’s words, and he couldn’t help but face the shudder that rocked his entire body.

  I’ve come to collect your soul.

  Those were five words he never thought he’d hear come from anyone’s mouth.

  Thoroughly spooked, Tolwin drank his wine until the glass was empty. Struggling to control his nerves and keep his composure, he wiped his mouth.

  For a moment, he was barely able to meet the gaze of his once companion and religious tutor. His hands shook, and he hid them in his lap. If the Ocurus was going to use magic against him, he’d be utterly defenseless. There was nothing he, his brother, or the manor staff could do to save him from the magic flowing through that man’s veins.

  Finally, he gathered enough courage to speak. “What could you possibly want with my soul, old friend?”

  Deter chuckled, and sat back in his chair. “It isn’t for me,” he said. “But, for Lord Drefen, my master in all things. You see, his will rise and walk this world amongst the mortals. We have to be ready. While there are those who will go about their daily lives, oblivious to the beauty of what is to come, there are people like us—soldiers—who will ready ourselves, and convert those who wish to be looked upon favorably when the storm comes.”

  Tolwin exhaled. It was clear.

  Deter had lost his mind.

  “You truly believe the words you say?” Tolwin dared to ask.

  “Of course. Why would I doubt anything my lord has said to me in my dreams? He promises dominion over the spiritual world, if only I bow to his will.”

  Tolwin scratched his chin, annoyed, afraid, and unable to wrap his mind around the nonsense the man who was nearly fifty years his senior spoke of.

  “You think Lord Drefen will give you anything you ask for? Instead of steal your soul and keep it locked away like a prized possession?”

  Deter lifted a bushy, white brow. “You dare to speak against my lord?”

  Tolwin’s jaw hardened. He gazed into the flames, a portrait of his great-great grandfather hung above the fireplace.

  “I’m simply trying to show you that your devotion to your faith may have blinded you,” he said, with as much calm as he could muster.

  “War is coming, young prince,” Deter said, his arms outstretched, and eyes wide. “And, I simply want to make sure you are on the right side of it. You can follow me and the others to victory, and greatness, or you can wait behind with those who are doomed to feel my lord’s wrath.”

  Tolwin pursed his lips. He looked into his glass, and saw a ripple of red as a droplet of blood dripped from his nose. Frowning, he wiped his nose to find more blood.

  “See? Even your body is giving you signs that what I say is true.”

  “Or, that I shouldn’t trust anything you say,” Tolwin replied, his brows furrowing.

  Deter’s eyes widened even more. He looked genuinely surprised. “You don’t truly believe I’d mislead you.”

  Tolwin nodded. “I do. Because, you are misled.”

  Watching Deter’s expression almost made him feel sorry for him, and the other mages who had been led astray by Lord Drefen.

  Deter stood. His face seemed to darken as the light from the flames cast his shadow behind him on the stone walls.

  “I can’t help but sense you are resisting my aid, young prince. I have come all of this way to offer you salvation,” he said. “And, I simply cannot allow you to do so.”

  Tolwin’s face paled as he watched Deter’s expression turn to one of steely resolve.

  “What?”

  Deter narrowed his eyes into thin slits. “I am going to save you,” he said. “Whether you like it or not.”

  Tolwin stood, ready to strike. He reached for his sword, but panic flashed in his eyes as he remembered he’d handed it to Ms. Croft at the door.

  “Forgive me, your highness,” he said, and barely a second passed before Deter flew into Tolwin, sending such a powerful blow to his chest that his body slid across the floor and crashed into the far stone wall.

  It took a moment for Tolwin to register what had just happened.

  Deter could fly. Was that a typical Ocurus ability?

  Everything stung as Tolwin pushed himself up to his knees. He coughed, the breath knocked out of him from the blow.

  Deter seemed to tower over Tolwin as he struggled to come to his feet. Lights flashed behind his eyes from his head hitting the wall.

  He took a step forward.

  Tolwin resisted the urge to flinch. He lifted his hands to shield himself. Deter sent a gust of wind into Tolwin’s body, pinning him to the wooden floor so that he was unable to move his arms or legs.

  Tolwin bucked, trying to sit up. It was useless. His eyes widened in terror, and his blood ran cold as he realized he was truly defenseless against the frail old man towering above him.

  “Please,” he begged. “Whatever you’re planning, it isn’t worth it. Lord Drefen is king of the dead for a reason. He was never meant to walk amongst mortals.”

  Tolwin tried to stand. Deter put a thumb on his forehead.

  “Don’t resist.”

  A jolt shocked Tolwin’s body at the touch of Deter’s thumb to his flesh.

  “Stay calm. It won’t hurt.”

  Tolwin frothed at the mouth as he fought to resist whatever the Ocurus was doing to him. But, as Deter said, there was no pain, and when he stood, he simply looked down at him with furrowed brows.

  “I do wish you’d have been cooperative,” he said, as he shook his head and looked down at Tolwin.

  He walked toward the doors that led to the main hall of Midland Manor. He paused in the entryway.

  Still unable to move, Tolwin watched from his spot on the floor.

  “Now, you will be much more manageable,” he said. “I am sorry it had to be this way, your highness. But, we simply cannot have you getting in the way of what we have planned for Elise. She is far too valuable.”

  Tolwin froze.

  Elise?

  Eyes wide, he watched Deter leave. His mind raced with worry, fear, anger, and a slew of emotions he couldn’t control.

  Tolwin had to protect his people. He had to warn Elise of what was coming for her. It had felt like an eternity before he regained use of his body—and when he did—an intense wave of dread flooded his entire body.

  He tensed and looked down
at the floor, tears dripping from his cheeks as a shadowy figure appeared before him.

  Nothing could ever compare to the sheer terror that washed over him. While he refused to look, he sniffled like a little boy, and squeezed his eyes shut as the being leaned forward and sniffed him like a hunting dog over a carcass.

  He never put much stock into the gods before, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but beseech them for help.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Weeks of silence and mourning passed as the entire castle fell into darkness.

  Elise stayed in bed most days, staring out the doors to her balcony, and watching as the sun rose and fell each day.

  Food lost its taste. Sleep became plagued with nightmares so real and powerful that she would awaken herself with screams or cries of agony.

  No one bothered her, and it was just as she wanted.

  That is, until Lady Inora Devyn stood at the side of her bed as she awakened one morning.

  Elise sat up with a gasp, startled to see her grandmother standing there, watching her.

  She appeared to be in deep concentration as she peered down at her, the faint light of the sun highlighting her thin frame.

  The doors were open, and the gust of wind blew Inora’s black veil around her ivory face. Her eyes were completely white, and the room was eerily silent.

  She waved her hands before Inora’s eyes, and frowned as the older woman didn’t so much as flinch. She simply stared off into nothing.

  It sent a shiver up her spine.

  “Grandmama?” Her voice came out frightened, like a child’s.

  Inora tilted her head, as if hearing Elise’s voice from somewhere far away. Something seemed to snap back into place, and all sounds returned.

  The soft hum of the wind, and crackling of the last embers of her fire filled her ears.

  “Good,” she said, folding her hands before her. The color came back to her eyes and she focused on Elise’s face. “You’re awake.”

  Elise frowned, and wrapped a shawl around her arms. She looked around her room. Nothing was amiss.

  “What are you doing in here, Grandmama? You’ve given me a fright.”

  Inora met her gaze. “I’ve waited long enough,” she said. “It’s time you know the truth.”

  “The truth?” Elise stepped from the bed and slid her cold feet into her slippers.

  “My dear,” she said, and turned to her. She brushed Elise’s cheek with a cold thumb. “There is something you must see—something your mother made me promise to never share with you until it was the right time. The time has come, and I cannot keep silent anymore. Your life depends on you knowing everything.”

  Elise looked into her eyes, searching.

  A promise?

  Her brows furrowed as she peered into the blue depths of her grandmother’s gaze. There was sadness there, and wisdom. With a whimper, she threw her arms around her waist and pressed the side of her face into her chest.

  Inora remained still for a moment. It was unlike her to show affection, but—in their time of shared grief—she embraced her in a way she’d never done before.

  Elise heard her inhale and sigh before stepping away.

  “We have work to do,” she said, and started toward the bedroom door. “Come.”

  Together, they left Elise’s room and walked down the winding staircase to the landing.

  They stepped out, and into the cool morning. Spring was coming, and the usual bite in the air was gone.

  Had it truly been that long since the news?

  Inora stood on the stone slab. The lush green landscape before them stretched for miles. A pond stood between the castle and the forest that wrapped around the grounds.

  How long before father forced her out of the one place she’d grown to call home?

  A chill rippled up her entire body. No one was brave enough to say it, but she knew within her bones that he was responsible for her mother’s death.

  “This way,” Inora said, beginning down the stairs.

  Elise fell into step alongside her. They walked across the grounds, and far from the castle. Once they entered the forest, Elise glanced at her grandmother and was shocked to see tears trailing down her cheeks.

  Elise swallowed. Inora’s blue eyes looked especially bright and eerie at that moment.

  “It’s time I tell you everything."

  Chapter Eighteen

  The trees swayed to Inora’s stride as they entered the mystical forest that surrounded Devynshire Castle.

  Once they were deep enough in the cover of the trees, Inora took off her slippers.

  “Take off your slippers.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do as I say, Elise. Leave them, and feel the soil and vegetation beneath your feet. We are connected to this world in ways most of its inhabitants have forgotten. Feel its energy, and it will bow at your will.”

  What is she talking about?

  Elise kept her questions to herself as they began deeper into the forest.

  Inora sauntered through the grass barefoot, the blades barely bending beneath her delicate footsteps.

  Still numb to the world she didn’t question her further. Instead, she stepped out of her slippers. Her feet squelched along wet leaves, mud, and tiny twigs.

  “Don’t you feel it?”

  She looked at her grandmother, consciously trying to sense if she felt anything different.

  “What am I supposed to feel?”

  “You’ll know,” Inora said, with a nod.

  At first, there was nothing, but as she let go of the ruthless control she had of her senses, she realized that yes, there was something there—something powerful.

  She sucked in a breath of the sweet cool air, trying to understand the sensations that washed over her as they went even deeper into the forest. The trees became so densely packed together that the canopy of leaves above blocked out most of the sun, leaving them in a world of shadows and fleeting shafts of sunlight.

  Elise frowned harder as the buzzing energy around and within grew stronger.

  Nature had always been her friend, and the wind a whisper in the quiet.

  What she now felt was different from anything else she had ever experienced. The instinct for self-preservation reared up from deep in her psyche, and she had to summon all her discipline not to react, fight, flee.

  “Take my hand.” Inora held out her hands.

  Elise pulled in a long breath, filling her lungs, and took her grandmother’s hands.

  Instinct flared up once again, making her instantly recoil and snatch her hands away.

  “What was that? Your hands went from burning hot to freezing.” She held her hands up before her eyes, irrationally worried that they had been frozen or developed frostbite from the brief contact.

  Inora snatched her hands back in a grip that promised no escape. “Your hands are doing the same thing, Elise, or didn’t you notice?” The amusement in her voice sent warning chills down her spine.

  For a moment, she was confused. Then, she looked down to see her hands shifting between two colors.

  Blue.

  Orange.

  Her lips parted, and her brows drew in. “That has never happened before.”

  Inora laughed, a sound full of discordant notes of anger, regret, bitterness, and grief. “No, it hasn’t. But, that’s really not your fault.”

  Elise studied her carefully. The woman looked perfectly calm and put together, but she couldn’t help wondering if two months of grief hadn’t taken their toll on her psyche.

  “I’m sorry,” she said slowly. “I don’t understand. You’ll have to be more clear.”

  “In simple language, then,” Inora said, rolling her eyes as if having to explain things to a toddler. “You have never been in this part of the forest before.”

  Elise scoffed. “Of course, I have. I’ve grown up running through these woods all my life.”

  “Not these woods. This part of the forest was warded and enchanted aga
inst you finding it until I deemed the time was right.”

  “Why?” Curiosity and outrage teeter-tottered precariously on the tip of her tongue.

  “I did this the day your mother brought you here from the palace. It had to be done quickly, and in secret. Not even your mother knew.”

  This wasn’t exactly making things clearer, and Elise fought the urge to stamp her foot.

  “Knew what?” she ground out.

  “That you were born with the gift of magic.”

  The revelation left her dumbstruck.

  “Impossible,” she mumbled, and barely believed her own resolve. “The king’s magic never passed down to any of his children.”

  A grin came to her grandmother’s face. “Ah,” she said, lifting a finger. “But, it has. And, not only that—but it has passed from me as well.”

  A gasp escaped her lips.

  “Grandmama! You are a mage?”

  Inora shook her head. “Hardly,” she said, as if the word left a particularly foul taste in her mouth. “I am a High Cleric. I haven’t been a simple mage since I was younger than you.”

  “High Cleric,” Elise repeated. She knew all about The Vale and how it trained those with magic. She also knew her father was now ceasing communication with that part of the world.

  Those with magic were in danger.

  She was in danger.

  “Is that why he killed my mother?”

  The question was spoken aloud, and Elise didn’t even realize it until a tear escaped Inora’s eye.

  She gave a single nod.

  “So, you know he killed her,” Elise snapped.

  Inora’s smile was both bitter and brittle. “Your mother knew the risk, and she took the mission nonetheless.”

  “What mission?” Elise dropped her voice to a menacing tone. “No more secrets.”

  “The answer is simple,” Inora said. “I sent her to court to catch his eye.”

  “But, why?”

  Inora was calm, but the leaves on the trees rustled restlessly.

  “So, that she would give birth to you—a full-blooded mage unlike the world has seen in quite some time.”

  She lowered her eyes, and stared at her hands as they changed colors with a sim light from within.

 

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