I followed Tristan through a door and down the rickety stairs of a deserted house in a dingy alley. The air was thick with the overpowering smells of hookah smoke and, as Tristan pointed out, opium. It was a dark, seedy place, where drunks and pirates fumbled and frolicked with veiled barmaids and stuffed their bellies with mediocre food until they were satiated. Customers lounged on multicolored divans strewn with sumptuous but incredibly gaudy silk cushions, watching gauzy-veiled women in transparent chiffon pants and revealing jeweled tops gyrate lasciviously above them.
The proprietor was a large, bearded man wearing a green silk turban, loose pants, and a jacket in the Brandorian style. Tristan dropped a few coins in his hand; he grinned as he counted the gold, revealing his hideously rotting, tobacco-stained teeth. He pointed to a garish pile of cushions in the corner of the room where a hooded person was sitting, waiting for us.
I held Tristan’s arm and kept my voice low. “Are you sure about this? We can’t afford to let anyone know we are here. Who is this informant we’re meeting?”
Tristan looked down at my hand on his arm as if it were a leech. “You didn’t have to come,” he said, stopping abruptly to face me, pulling his arm away. “Go home. Or better still, go to your Prince Rafael. Go anywhere, I really don’t care.”
I ground my teeth together, but I didn’t want to start a fight with Tristan in the middle of this hellhole, so I kept quiet as I followed him to the corner of the room.
Tristan hardly spoke to me anymore. All the progress we had made was shattered that night when he saw how I looked at Rafe. He had become cold and distant, like he was when I first met him. Our betrothal was forced upon us, and Tristan was bound by his oath to comply. I didn’t have a choice but to deal with the fact that what was done was done—we could not break a royal contract without a good reason, or the fae would think I was rejecting them. Queens rarely had the option of love in marriage; it was all royal contracts and planned negotiations. Why should I think my life would be different? War was coming, and I needed the fae army’s loyalty through this betrothal if I was going to take back my father’s kingdom from Morgana.
We sat down on the cushions beside the stranger: a woman, but there was something strange about her. I reached out with my magic and wove it around her probingly. The woman’s features changed as I broke apart the glamour that shrouded her real visage.
Her azure eyes twinkled as they revealed themselves to me. “You are getting good at this.”
“Penelope!” I gasped as I looked around the room for any other High Fae she might have brought with her. But through the haze of smoke and frolicking bodies, I didn’t see anyone I knew.
Tristan’s frown deepened. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t worry, I came alone,” Penelope answered softly.
“How did you find us?” It was a stupid question, but I had to ask. I thought we had been quite careful. Obviously not careful enough.
Penelope shrugged. “It wasn’t easy, but I do have my sources. I knew you would be tracking Andromeda and the book. The trail led me to Nedora, and after that it wasn’t hard to find the two of you. You have been asking about the High Fae in a city of thieves and pirates. And if I managed to find you, the Drakaar won’t be far behind.”
“Let them come,” I said, flexing my fingers. “I am not afraid of them anymore.” Ever since I discovered my true powers as the Dawnstar and Illaria Lightbringer’s heir, the fears that had plagued me earlier seemed to diminish in intensity.
“Well, you should be,” said Penelope sternly. She kept her hood on as we conversed, but moved closer and lowered her voice a notch. “You would do well to remember that you are not yet immortal and can still be killed. Your magic may be strong, but there is so much you still don’t know. It is dangerous for you to be out here unprotected when the world is falling to pieces. Izadora just wants to help.”
“I thought I made it clear that I don’t want to see my grandmother. I refuse to be manipulated by her anymore. I am not going back to Elfi.”
“I understand, Aurora,” said Penelope. “Believe me, I know what Izadora is like and how she has to have things her own way. What she did was unforgivable. But you will need her support for the battles to come.”
“She cannot force me to do anything now,” I said, straightening. “After everything I did to help the fae, this is the thanks I get? I made sure she stayed on her throne, even though the Elder Council wanted to remove her and crown me instead. She knew how much Rafe meant to me and she didn’t care.”
“She does care, Aurora,” said Penelope, softening her tone. “But the fact remains: she is still the ruler of Elfi and the only one who can keep the Elder Council in check. If you remove Izadora from the throne, there will be chaos in Elfi, the noble families will fight among themselves for power, and civil war will ensue. The generals will not go against her. If you do not do as she asks, Izadora will not send the fae army to help you regain Illiador.”
My mouth dropped open. “She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t go back on her word.”
Tristan’s eyes blazed. “Don’t be naïve, Aurora. Of course she would. It’s what she does. And what makes her such an effective ruler.”
It was irritating as hell, but he was right. I relented. “What does she want?”
Penelope’s face softened. “At least speak to her.”
I shook my head. “I will not go back to Elfi.”
“You don’t have to,” said Penelope, getting up from the table. “Come with me and I will show you.”
We left the “teahouse,” and I took in a breath of hot, humid air. Anything was better than the sickening smell of sweaty unwashed bodies heavily doused in strong perfume, mixed with the heady scent of opium smoke.
The desert sky was clear. Stars twinkled like a crowd of fireflies in a stately dance as Penelope took us to a two-story sandstone structure with a flat roof, the inn where she had been staying. The arched doorway led to a small open courtyard with date palms shading a lone bench from the outside world. A narrow patio ran along the edges of the square courtyard, adjacent to the rooms. Stone stairs led to a first-floor balcony, which overlooked the inner courtyard and led to rooms on the upper floor. It was peaceful and calm and so different from the crowded, badly maintained place where Tristan had chosen to stay.
“Why didn’t we take rooms here?” I whispered to Tristan. “Instead of that awful place we’ve been holed up in for the past few weeks.”
Tristan glared at me. “Who asked you to stay there? I would have much preferred it if you’d stayed here. Then I wouldn’t have had to put up with you.”
“Well, if I had known this place existed, I would have,” I snapped back.
“Stop it, you two.” Penelope shot us an irritated look as she greeted a young veiled lady in white, who then ushered us up the roughly hewn stone stairs to the upper rooms at the inn. It was small but clean, with a lumpy bed and a chipped ornate dresser that looked like it had once graced the room of a grand house. Even with its imperfections, it looked completely out of place along the faded old wall. But the room was airy and had two large windows looking out onto the street below, with white-latticed shutters and light muslin curtains that fluttered in the breeze.
Penelope went about inspecting a big oval mirror that hung above the dresser. The gold leaf was damaged and peeling, and the mirror had dark blotches scattered within. “This will do.”
I scrunched my eyebrows together. “Do for what?”
“You’ll see.” Penelope stood in front of the mirror. “As I said before, there is still so much more you have to learn. Spirit magic is vast, the most complicated of all fae magic, and your time in Elfi was not enough for you to learn all there is to know.”
She reached out with her magic and the mirror started to swirl with a silvery mist. Slowly a silhouette and then a figure came into view. My grandmother was sitting on her throne, with Tristan’s grandmother, Rhiannon, standing beside her. Penelope explained
that mirror portals let spirit-fae speak to each other over long distances without having to spend the power of creating an actual portal that could be traveled through. We could speak to each other but could not pass through to the other side.
The queen of the fae looked me over but did not smile. “I’m glad you have finally put your childish feelings aside, Aurora. There is much work to be done.” She threw a look at her sister. “We have been tracking Andromeda. I will let you know when she opens another portal.”
My eyes widened. “You can track portals?”
Izadora shot a fierce glance at Rhiannon. “You did not teach her portal tracking?”
“There was hardly any time to teach her anything,” the Dowager Duchess of the Night Court said briskly. “She was only here for a few months, so all I could teach her were the basics. Mastering fae magic takes decades—you know that better than anyone, Izadora.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. I thought I had learned adequate control over my magic, but it turned out it was not enough. There was so much more to learn, and now I had no one to teach me. But I had no more time to hide away in Elfi and learn—the time had come to act.
“Morgana will soon be recruiting more soldiers to swell the ranks of her army, and we must do the same,” said my grandmother. “We must make sure the other kingdoms stand with us. Breaking Morgana’s hold over Brandor will be your first task. Since you are already in Nedora, meet with Emir Darius Detori and secure his friendship. If the Detoris stand with us, the other emirs will be easier to convince.”
Penelope nodded. “You are right. The Detoris rule this whole area, and they have skilled soldiers which could be invaluable to us. I will set up a meeting with Darius Detori.”
“Good,” said Izadora. “Once you have secured the east of Brandor, I want you to go to Sanria and meet with Santino Valasis and his father. Remind them of our friendship and make sure all the Brandorian emirs and their armies stand with us against Morgana.”
I tapped my foot. “The last time I was there, Emir Valasis refused to help. What makes you think he will help now?”
“The last time he met you, you were not the Dawnstar or a Dragonlord. I think he will reconsider.” Izadora paused and her gold eyes glowed eerily. “If not, make him.”
“But we have to do something about my granduncle too.” I crossed my arms. “We can’t leave Silverthorne in that dungeon. You told me you would help.”
Rhiannon stepped forward. “We will help Silverthorne. But first we have to gather our forces and find out more information. We can’t have you running off into enemy territory to rescue your granduncle on a whim. We have had reports that gorgoths are patrolling the skies around Eldoren, and the Summer Palace is heavily warded, so you cannot portal in. And even if you could break the wards and manage to create a portal of such distance, it will drain your power to a great degree. If you are captured while your magic is recovering, you will not be able to save yourself.”
“I don’t understand,” I said to the Dowager Duchess of the Night Court. “I thought fae magic could never be depleted and is fueled by the elements. You told me that yourself.”
Rhiannon nodded as my grandmother gave her an irritated look. “This is true for four of the five fae powers. Spirit magic is different—it comes from within and cannot be replenished by the elements. The power of a spirit-fae depends on their inner magic, and it can be very dangerous to the fae involved if it is depleted past a certain threshold. That’s why Penelope nearly died in the catacombs trying to close the portal. She had to use powerful spirit magic to battle Skye and the Day Court guards until my son’s forces arrived.”
I glanced at Penelope and she nodded. “Even if you have other fae powers, as you do, your ability to use them will be diminished in intensity until your inner spirit magic has been replenished. It is the cost of a spirit-fae’s vast power.”
I clenched my fists as I tried to gather my thoughts. This had thrown me off guard. Every time I thought I had learned enough about magic and how it worked, something would be revealed to show me that I never really knew very much at all. There was so much to know and so little time to learn.
“What about Rafe?” I asked.
My grandmother’s eyes narrowed. “What about him?”
“I have to help Rafe get his throne back, and I have to explain why I agreed to get engaged to Tristan.”
“Then you should have gone there when you had the chance instead of following me here,” growled Tristan, who was leaning against a wall near the door to the room.
I couldn’t deal with him right now, so I ignored his jab and continued speaking with my grandmother. “You said yourself we will need the mages to stand with us. And now that King Petrocales is dead, Rafe is the rightful King of Eldoren. Without him we will never get the warrior-mages of Eldoren to join us in this war.”
Penelope looked at my grandmother and raised an eyebrow. “She does have a point.”
“Yes,” said the fae queen, her lips a thin line. “But right now, we don’t have enough warriors to waste our forces on restoring Rafael to his throne.” Her eyes narrowed as she assessed me. “Our first priority is getting the Dagger of Dragath out of Morgana’s clutches. But at the same time, we have to make sure that the Book of Abraxas is never opened.”
“How can you be so cold?” I gritted my teeth, my hands balled into fists.
“What’s done is done,” said the queen of the fae. “Rafael Ravenswood is not your concern anymore, Aurora.”
I put my hands on my hips and glared at my grandmother. “He will always be my concern.”
My grandmother’s gold eyes flashed, but she chose to keep quiet.
The dowager came closer to the mirror. “This is the way things have to be, Aurora. It is better for all the kingdoms if you marry a High Fae prince instead of a mage.”
I frowned. “Says who?”
“Says anyone with a lick of sense,” snapped my grandmother, obviously unable to keep quiet any longer.
Rhiannon clasped her hands together. “You may not see it now, Aurora.” Her tone was sympathetic. “But soon you will come to realize your grandmother only has your best interests at heart. You are the only heir to the ancient house of Eos-Eirendil, and the last Dragonlord of Avalonia. You cannot marry a mage, and you don’t need to. You are the rightful queen of the most powerful mage kingdom in these lands. An alliance with a High Fae prince is what will bring Avalonia together once more and heal the rift between the mages and the fae.”
My shoulders drooped as I looked at my grandmother, suddenly feeling like a little girl who was in way over her head. “But you promised to help me.”
“I did,” said my grandmother. “I promised to help you save your mother and get your kingdom back. That is what I am doing. We had no agreement to help the Prince of Eldoren.”
At that moment I really hated the fae queen.
Ever since that fateful night nearly a month ago when Rafe had walked out of my life forever, I had thrown myself into tracking Andromeda and the book. I had left Elfi without consulting my grandmother, but I was so angry with her, it was better for us to have this time apart. She had tricked me into becoming engaged to Tristan when she knew Rafe was on his way to see me, and every time I thought about what she had done, my blood boiled.
I crossed my arms and glared at her. “I cannot stand by and let Rafe lose his throne. It was my fault that Lilith came back from the dead as a shadow wraith in the first place. And Uncle Gabriel is still in the dungeons. Isn’t securing the last key as important as finding the Book of Abraxas?”
“Silverthorne doesn’t have his key—he must have hidden it somewhere,” said Rhiannon. “So far Morgana hasn’t found it, or he would already be dead, like the other guardians.”
“What about the weapons she is making?” I told them about the blackened iron arrow shot at us in the back alleys of the desert city.
Izadora stiffened visibly as she turned her golden gaze to her sister. “
Penelope, find out where they are getting this blackened iron and stop them,” she snapped. “Dragath’s forces are already stirring. Something doesn’t feel right.”
My heart fluttered as a great weight seemed to descend on my shoulders. “I’m not sure I can do this on my own.”
Izadora’s eyes softened, but only slightly. “You won’t be alone, Aurora. Tristan and Penelope will accompany you. Once you have secured Brandor, Penelope will contact me. We can decide how to proceed from there.”
Tristan, who had stayed out of most of the conversation, pushed himself off the wall and came to stand beside me in front of the mirror. “And if I refuse to help?”
My grandmother’s golden eyes hardened again as she stared at Tristan. “You cannot refuse. If you do, your oath will be broken.” She moderated her tone. “I need you to go with her, Tristan. You are the only one who can protect her on such a perilous journey.”
“I’m quite capable of looking after myself,” I said tartly.
Tristan snorted but didn’t say any more.
“And Penelope will be there,” I added, more to convince myself than anyone else. I didn’t want Tristan to know how badly I needed his help, although he must have guessed by now, after I’d been following him around for weeks, trying to get him to come with me to Eldoren to rescue my granduncle.
“Tristan knows he must do as I say,” said Izadora, a dangerous smile creeping across her face. “If he doesn’t, I will strip him of his title as Prince of the Night Court and exile him from Elfi forever.”
Tristan’s eyes blazed, but he didn’t refute what she said.
“If he chooses not to come with me, you can’t take away his title,” I argued. I wanted him to come with me, but not at this cost. “He is the only heir to the Night Court throne. The Grand Duke Kildaren will never accept it.”
“Kildaren will accept it if he finds out he has another son.” She threw a glance at the dowager duchess and gave Tristan a malicious grin. “Isn’t that so, Rhiannon?”
Tristan’s grandmother’s face tightened, but she nodded all the same.
The Return of the Dragon Queen Page 2