“As I said, not everyone can see her, but some can, and I don’t know who. It’s not safe for her out in the palace anymore. She needs company.”
Zander’s heart quickened as he considered what had been asked of him. He liked the kitchens and didn’t feel qualified for an important assignment.
Bryant watched the boy’s reaction carefully. “There will be a big feast soon, and she is one of our special guests. Those who have been invited to this feast can see her, like you can. I want you to stay with her and attend to her every wish. You do not need to speak to her. Don’t disappoint me.”
Zander looked up. He nodded obediently, and the prince smiled.
“Good, that’s settled.” He stood up. “Come with me, my boy. I will introduce you.”
~*~
Bryant led Zander through the palace. All the while, the prince looked focused, yet nervous.
They turned a corner and wound up a flight of narrow stairs. This part of the palace looked different, not as ornate as the other halls and rooms Zander had seen. No artwork hung on the walls and no fancy flowers filled the air with fragrance. It seemed small and forgotten.
“Silexa’s security is my highest priority, so everything about her, including your duty to her, must be kept a secret. Tell anyone and you’re back to your life in the dungeon, understand?”
Zander nodded, although his insides twisted around, making him feel slightly nauseous.
“I do not want you talking to her,” Bryant continued. “I’m sure you may have many questions you want to ask, but don’t.” He stopped at the top of the staircase and turned to face Zander. “Only people who have been exposed to powerful magic can recognize who she is. Was your mother a sorcerer, or did she possess any magical ability?”
Zander’s thoughts confused him. “I don’t . . . She d-died when I . . .”
“Hmm.” The prince stroked his chin, thinking. “Ah, well, never mind.” He started down a hallway which led to a wide, wooden door with steel hinges on either side.
The door opened to another corridor, darker and smelling of dust. Old tapestries, forgotten and torn, lined the walls. The hall looked so majestic, it seemed hard to believe no one used it, but the dust indicated a hideaway long forgotten.
“Where are . . .?” Zander started but lost his voice.
“This is the forgotten end of Southwick. I used to love sneaking here when I was younger,” Bryant reminisced. “When my father became king and we moved into the palace, I was determined to explore every bit of it. I found a room that I made my own, and I put all my treasures there.”
Bryant stopped, narrowing his eyes toward Zander. “Not a word of this to anyone,” he demanded. But the tone of his voice softened. “I trust you, Zan. I know you will be loyal. Do you think you can find your way here?”
Zander didn’t know if he could, but he obediently nodded.
“Here we are.” Bryant stopped at the third tapestry and drew it to one side, revealing a secret passageway.
Behind the drapery hid the opening to a tunnel, small and narrow. Broken cobwebs clung to Zander and Bryant as they passed through, one behind the other. The end of the tunnel opened into a long room, filled with covered windows on the ceiling, allowing very little light to enter, like muted sunlight on a cloudy day. A door stood at the end of the room—and before it, a withered, small man.
The bizarre figure at the door stood at attention as they approached.
“Good evening, Matlock. How is she today?”
“Very well, your lordship.” The man answered in a hissing voice, adding to his strange appearance. Zander didn’t want to look at him; fresh, visible scars and sores covered the man’s face, the deep puss pockets terrifying and disturbing.
“Good, thank you.” Bryant clapped his hand on his shoulder. “We won’t be long. Just a night cap, that’s all.”
“Very well.” With scarred, deformed hands, Matlock opened the intricate locks on the door—very extensive, for someone intended to be a guest. Zander wondered whether she was a prisoner, hidden away in secret.
Entering the room beyond the door revealed a dramatic contrast. Zander gazed at the stunning chamber, with large, wooden carvings in every crevice and corner—masterpieces from a former age. Fine silks draped the walls, strung floor to ceiling, filling the space with color and warmth. Tiny lit candles sparkled around a large chandelier hanging in the center of the room. Even the air felt different, filled with the sweetest aromas.
And there she was.
Zander recognized the girl from the market. She sat in the middle of a curtain-draped bed with her knees tucked to her chin, revealing her delicate feet. Her dress wrapped about her slender figure, while her hair, short and black, swirled neatly around her head. The ice-blue tones of the dress complemented her fresh white skin and eyes, blue as the palest sky. She watched them in silence from the bed.
“Good evening, my lady,” Bryant’s voice brightened at the sight of her. “I trust you are well.”
“I am,” she said, her voice soothing like warm milk.
The prince smiled before speaking again. “Here he is, just like you requested.”
The girl slid her feet down the bed and sat on the edge. “I’m not sure what you mean. I did not ask for a boy.”
“Zander Bucklingdown, this is Silexa. Zander is my new page and will be attending you during your stay. He will keep you company.”
This time Silexa laughed. “This is your solution to my loneliness?”
Zander didn’t know what to do next, so he gave an awkward bow to the lady.
She made no movement to greet him, but it seemed her eyes smiled back. “You can see me?” she asked, melting him with her voice.
“Sadly, he is a mute, but very obedient.” Bryant eyed Zander, who swallowed hard. “I’d like Zander to accompany you to the Autumnal Feast.”
“Why do I need accompanying, Bryant? Matlock is good enough.”
“Matlock will not be attending. He is not dressed for the occasion.”
Her musical laugh, endearing and lovely, filled the room with warmth.
“My lady.” The tone in Bryant’s voice changed, surprising Zander greatly—no longer sharp or harsh, but gentle. He left Zander’s side and walked to where Silexa sat with her feet dangling off the bed. “Aren’t your feet cold?”
“There is not much point in slippers if you cannot walk the palace.” Silexa smiled playfully.
Bryant picked up her delicate hand and stroked it. “My father is here. He returned this afternoon. Sharrod will soon follow. I did as I promised, but I fear for your safety.”
Silexa said nothing to this, simply moved her other hand to his face. “I am not worried.”
“But I am. I cannot tell you what Sharrod will do, but I am sure he knows who you are. I can only blame myself for that.”
Zander watched the gentle play between them before Silexa rested her eyes on him, making him blush. “Thank you for Zander.”
“He will be loyal to you, I promise.” Bryant lifted her head, giving her a sweet kiss on her lips.
Zander now understood at least part of Bryant’s anxieties. He was in love with this girl, but it had to be a secret. The responsibility weighed on his shoulders.
“I must go talk with Curtis.” Bryant stood again, still holding Silexa’s hand. “I will be back soon. That should give the two of you enough time to get acquainted.” He kissed her palm, and then turned back to Zander.
“Not a word,” he whispered, pointing directly at Zander’s lips.
Zander shook his head in reply.
Bryant smiled and rubbed Zander’s head as he left.
~*~
An uncomfortable silence settled on Zander and Silexa. She stared at him. Sliding back into the middle of the bed, she laid her head on a cushion, still looking at him.
“Bryant is worried people will find out about us,” she said after a moment. “But I am curious about you. You are not a mute, and I wouldn’t want you to go
against your word. So, if you will not speak to me, will you at least nod?”
Zander thought about it for a moment, not wanting to break trust with Bryant, but considered her words. He slowly nodded.
“Good.” She smiled. “Please, come sit by me.” She held out her arms and he approached at her invitation.
The soft bed lay covered with intricate embroidery that spiraled around the silk blankets. Zander had never known such elaborate luxury. He felt his dirty servant hands unworthy to touch anything so fine.
“Please, come up. I am not someone to be afraid of.”
He climbed on the bed and sat across from her.
“Now,” she started, sitting up to better look at him. “How old are you Zander? Twelve?”
He nodded his head.
“You are not from around here, are you?”
He shook his head.
“I can’t say I am either.” Silexa took his hand, calming him. “Not really. I lived here when I was very young, but I do not remember much. I feel like a stranger here. We can both be strangers together.”
Zander felt awkward having the girl’s skin against his. Only Naomi had shown him such kindness. He yearned to have her here with him.
Silexa saw his discomfort and let go. “I won’t hurt you. I want us to be friends.”
In spite of his best efforts, his eyes welled up.
“You have been through a lot.”
Zander nodded his head.
She reached over and enveloped him with her arms, “You are safe here with me, Zander. I will take care of you.”
He silently sobbed on her shoulder. She cradled him in her arms, and the warmth of her skin comforted him.
Though wet with tears, Zander’s eyes didn’t miss Silexa’s scar as it sparkled like diamonds, glowing white on her neck. He gasped, lifting his head in surprise.
Silexa smiled. “Please don’t be frightened.” The white light began to fade, vanishing completely.
Zander pointed to the scar on her neck.
“Don’t worry about that. It’s just a scar.”
Zander recognized the mark—exactly like Naomi’s. The madness of the last few weeks flooded his memory.
She looked down, sadness filling her face. “I do wonder how you can see me, but I’m so glad.” She raised her eyes to him in an innocent way, stealing Zander’s heart immediately.
“I must get ready for bed.” She stood, somehow even more beautiful at her full height. “Will you wait for me here?”
Zander nodded and waited as Silexa slipped behind a screen. Her appearance rendered him speechless.
Not only did the lovely nightgown in silks of blue and purple catch his eye, but she glowed, her light robe radiating in words he couldn’t describe.
“You look beautiful.” The voice came from behind Zander, echoing his thoughts. Bryant walked to Silexa and they embraced, as he stroked her hair.
“Come, Zan.” Bryant sounded disheartened. “I will return you.”
“Before you leave, Zander, I’d like to give you something.” Silexa walked to her bed, unwrapping a long, slender piece of her silken bed hangings. “This is a special gift for you.” Draping it around his neck, she kissed him on the cheek. “Shadesilk. It will help protect you, keep the bad men from finding you. We will meet again tomorrow.”
Confusion flooded Zander’s brain. The material, the silk, was so familiar. Naomi’s face flashed back into his mind: she had always worn a scarf, just like this one.
Zander remained quiet during their stroll back to his quarters. Bryant led him along until they arrived in a courtyard, surrounded by high stone archways. Tropical trees of the south filled the air with sweet fragrances of orange and sandalwood. A light breeze made its merry way down the long path and wound around the palace wall, swirling dainty fallen leaves near Bryant’s feet——who made no move to take a confused Zander any further.
“She is in danger here,” Bryant said suddenly, his even voice filled with worry. “My father is not a good man. He is being used by a man named Sharrod who wants his power. Do you know Sharrod?”
Surprised at having secured the prince’s confidence, Zander slowly shook his head.
Bryant paced back and forth, apparently deep in thought. “Sharrod is searching for stones. There was a story of a girl who lived in the snowy tundra with a wolf, and she was said to have one. So they sent me to the Northern Crest to find it.”
Bryant stopped, distracted by the wind as it picked up again, blowing the leaves in sweeping circles.
“I found wolf tracks,” he continued. “They were so large. Many different times I thought I saw her, but I found myself wandering around in the snow——lost, running out of food, slowly freezing to death.” He took a breath. “And then she found me. She saved my life. The wolf is her guardian, and it brought us food. I owe her my life, and this is what I have done to her.”
Zander watched and listened, knowing Bryant’s tender recollections required a moment to recover.
“My father was right. She does carry one of the stones—all of her sisters do. But it’s not something they can hand over to Sharrod. They’re bound to them. If they separate from the stones, they slowly die.”
“What . . .” Zander started. Bryant stopped his pacing to listen. “What does Sha . . . rod wa-want with the stones?”
“Each one has some element that it can control.” Bryant looked up at the sky. Zander followed his gaze, noticing for the first time the cloudy, stormy sky.
“There is a girl here,” Bryant continued. “A sister of Silexa’s——I don’t know her name. She is coming to the feast but not as a guest. I think Sharrod already has her stone.”
“The w-wind?” Zander guessed, remembering the strange turbulence of the skies.
Bryant sunk helpless. “I didn’t expect to fall in love with Silexa, and now I have sentenced her to die. She knows it. She is prepared.” Bryant’s head turned sharply to face Zander. “I can’t be around her. My father knows she’s here and knows I am keeping her hidden. I have to keep her safe. When the feast comes, we’ll figure out what to do. But we can’t let her die.”
Bryant stood again. “I trust you. I know your heart. You’ve met her. You love her, too, I know. Say you will protect her.”
Zander nodded, uncertain about the huge task before him, but knowing he would do anything for Silexa.
Bryant grabbed him by the shoulders, his emotions barely controlled. “You are a valiant servant. I knew you would do me good.”
Chapter Eleven
Overheard
Sweeping . . .
Traveling . . .
Flying over clouds . . .
. . . to the tops of the mountains.
The winds push!
Change and move direction
. . . Erratic
. . . Harsh
. . . Uncontrolled
Move down through the mountains.
. . . through tunnels and caves
Little people . . .
. . . Dressed in white . . . blue eyes pierce the darkness Shield from the approaching light.
“Where is Harrow?”
A woman, long braids down her back
. . . pointed ears.
Stops before an ancient man.
. . . Black matted hair
. . . sunken white eyes
. . . deteriorating bones
“I am here.”
. . . Surprise! . . .
“Well, done, Browneyes, I am impressed.
“Have you brought me a present?”
“As you requested.”
Cruel laughter . . .
“Truth cannot hide from my eyes.”
“The girl is not there. Only him.”
“No matter.
“He is the perfect bait.
“Bring him forward.”
Another emerges, gripping a prisoner.
“Glad to see you well, Hawk.
“Perhaps you can finally return to me what you have sto
len.”
“I am not a thief, Harrow.”
“Then where is my medallion?”
“I do not know.”
. . . Thwack! . . .
. . . Laughter . . .
The man falls to his knees.
Hands bound.
“It makes no difference.
“That is not what I brought you here for.
“Spies informed me of the girl.”
Heaving . . .
“What girl?”
“Do not take me for a fool, Reynolds Fairborne.
“I know all about your encounter in the Blackwoods.
“What value is she to you, thief?
“Tell me!”
Silence . . .
“Oh, I believe we have found a sore spot.”
Another blow to the head . . .
Cringe in pain!
“I have my own theory of who she may be.”
Gasping . . .
“What do you want from me?”
“Not from you. Her.”
The ancient wizard stops.
. . . sniff . . . sniff . . .
Eyes searching . . .
A peculiar smile . . .
“Ah, through space and earth,
“I feel the magic is here . . . watching.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think she has found you.”
. . . Strange, white eyes pierce directly into the sight . . .
Reynolds struggles . . . searching
Turns into darkness . . .
Whisper . . .
“. . . Naomi . . .”
. . . Blackness . . .
Naomi sat up, sweating, her heart pounding hard, the vision of Reynolds’ smooth features still visible in her head. The dream looked real, like when the men had come for Malindra. She watched it happen right before her very eyes.
Reynolds was in danger. The pain of his decision to leave stung sharp in her chest. Just the sight of him hurt. He had left her here protected in the trees, but she didn’t feel safe without him. Now his life was in danger because of her, and she had no way to save him. She had thought of him every day since he left—days, weeks, she couldn’t remember. Time no longer held relevance there.
Vivatera (Vivatera Series Book 1) Page 12