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Ashes

Page 21

by Lauralana Dunne


  Camden, freed from the creature’s Fear, shook himself and rubbed his arms as he stood next to Phoenix. She could feel the cold rolling off of him as he glared openly at the gargoyle.

  “Now, then,” Master Malcourt said, attempting to take control of the situation. “Would someone be so kind as to tell me what’s going on?”

  Phoenix remained motionless, arrested by the tone of her Master’s voice. She let the flames extinguish in her hands and lowered her arms to her side, but she continued to watch the gargoyle carefully.

  Camden pointed forcefully at the intruder, losing his composure. “This creature,” he spat into the tense silence, “broke into your rooms, Master! Phoenix Heard you tell us to meet you, but it was here when we arrived so we tried to get rid of it.” His tone made it seem as though they were trying to remove a bug before their Master arrived. Phoenix glanced at him quickly, and the open hatred on Camden’s face was enough to give her pause. “It attacked Phoenix and it may have done the same to you - or worse - if we hadn’t arrived first!”

  Malcourt frowned disapprovingly at the two Apprentices. “You know that you are forbidden to enter them without my permission.”

  Camden flushed slightly. “We would not have, Master, but we heard the lizard inside and worried for your safety.”

  The gargoyle shifted, standing to his full height. “Who are you calling a lizard, boy?” he snarled softly.

  Phoenix was surprised by how melodic his deep voice was. She would have thought him human if she hadn’t known the difference.

  Camden, as if answering a challenge, clenched his fists and took a step towards the gargoyle, raising his palm towards him. The hair along Phoenix’s arms began to prickle. The air in the room, and even the powerful winds outside Angor’s walls, became still and quiet.

  Phoenix could feel the intensity of the Power that Camden was building under his control.

  Master Malcourt stepped forward and gripped Camden’s shoulder, and Camden’s Power immediately dissipated. The tension in the air relaxed, and Phoenix found that she was able to breathe much more easily.

  Outside the wind once again began its angry howl.

  “Enough, Camden,” Malcourt said soothingly. “There will be no more fighting here. I was asking Rorin to wait for me here. And he,” Master Malcourt stressed the word in mild rebuke, “is here by request as my guest.”

  Camden wrenched his arm so forcefully from the Master’s grip that Malcourt stumbled slightly.

  “Guest?” he demanded angrily. “Friend!” Camden’s gaze narrowed on the gargoyle for a long moment, then he pressed his lips together, his jaw clenched. Shooting Malcourt a look of betrayal, he turned on his heel and marched from the room, slamming the door behind him without so much as a backward glance.

  The silence in the room was uneasy in the wake of his departure.

  Rorin raised an eyeridge at Camden’s exit, then crossed his arms and looked at Phoenix expectedly. Phoenix glared distrustfully and shifted her weight, standing her ground as she prepared to stare the gargoyle down.

  “Are your hatchlings always so emotional?” he asked Master Malcourt.

  Master Malcourt sighed softly and ran his fingers through his hair. “Forgive him,” Malcourt said to the room. “He is still young, and his pain runs deep.”

  The gargoyle inclined his head slightly, and Master Malcourt turned to Phoenix with a rueful look. “We really need to find a way to keep you from eavesdropping, Phoenix.”

  He said it mildly, but his annoyance was clear. “Yes, Master,” she agreed, hanging her head. None of this would have happened had she not Heard him earlier.

  Malcourt patted her arm with a smile. “Not your fault,” he told her, his voice soft, “I should have figured it out by now.”

  “Maybe you humans should try whispering,” the gargoyle suggested blandly.

  Phoenix stared at the gargoyle, while Master Malcourt pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “Rorin, may I introduce Apprentice Phoenix. Phoenix; Rorin. Rorin is a Searcher, and an added safety precaution for the upcoming celebrations.” He fixed Phoenix with a serious look. “He and his flight will be in attendance at the festivities, so you two have to play nice.”

  Phoenix looked at Rorin with suspicion. She could tell that he was still put out by their tussle. He was inspecting the wounds on his arms critically, and he frowned at the Mastercaller. “That depends,” he said.

  Master Malcourt frowned at Rorin. “On?”

  “On however long Apprentice Callers have been training to break the Fear. Is this something that you’ve been teaching her, Malcourt?” His tone was even, but Phoenix thought that she could detect a subtle hint of tension in the question.

  Master Malcourt blinked in surprise, looking first at Phoenix before back at Rorin in confusion. It took Phoenix a moment to identify the expression. She had never seen Master Malcourt confused before.

  “No,” the Mastercaller admitted with ease. “I wasn’t aware they could do that.”

  “Not them,” Rorin corrected. “Just her.” His eyes almost glowed as he shifted to concentrate solely on Phoenix.

  His expression was unreadable, but if he was trying to intimidate her she was unimpressed.

  “Ah,” Master Malcourt said, looking curiously at Phoenix. “There are no secrets here, Rorin. Phoenix is... well, she’s special. Her Power reacts differently from anyone I have ever encountered. It’s been a delightful learning curve for the two of us, to be sure, but sometimes surprises crop up every now and then. She is a Firecaller. Perhaps that has something to do with it?” Master Malcourt’s eyes lingered a moment on Rorin’s burns before they slid to her.

  Phoenix did her best not to blush under her Master’s scrutiny.

  “Besides,” the Mastercaller continued. “When would we have ever tested any “‘training’?”

  “Perhaps,” Rorin conceded. He seemed to find Malcourt’s explanation satisfactory and shrugged off his concern. “How exactly will this girl-child help?”

  Phoenix bristled at his words and she glared at Rorin. As far as she could tell they were the same age. Who was he calling a child?

  Master Malcourt laid a calming hand on Phoenix’s shoulder. “Phoenix has an incredible Talent for Hearing - as is evident by the unfortunate confrontation you experienced earlier. We need eyes and ears everywhere, and she is one of the few who carries my absolute trust.”

  Phoenix blushed at the praise and smiled at her Master. Malcourt smiled down at her in return and squeezed her shoulder.

  Rorin regarded her with interest before his eyes flicked to the closed door. “And your other hatchling?”

  Phoenix, tired of his condescension, opened her mouth to say something sharp.

  Malcourt spoke before she had the chance. “I had intended to tell him at a better time - both of them, actually - so I am not sure if Apprentice Camden will help. His history with gargoyles is volatile at best. He might come around... eventually.”

  Malcourt frowned, lost in thought as his eyes roamed the room vacantly. Noticing the toppled furniture, he righted a chair and sat, gesturing for the other two to seat themselves. Phoenix accepted his offer, but Rorin continued to stand, leaning against the wall in a relaxed manner.

  Malcourt rested his ankle on his knee. “Phoenix, what do you know about the Gargoyle War?”

  Phoenix’s glance flicked to Rorin, who stood only a few foot-lengths from her Master. “Just that it happened when I was a babe,” she answered. She had grown up hearing about it, of course. Everyone had. But nothing in particular stuck out in her mind. “Only a few soldiers settled on the farm after the fighting stopped. Avondale wasn’t affected much.”

  “No, I don’t suppose it was,” Master Malcourt said thoughtfully. “Do you know how it started?” When she shook her head, Malcourt inclined his head to Rorin, offering for him to tell the story. When Rorin shook his head, Malcourt continued.

  “Not too long ago - in the beginning of your lifetime, I believ
e - humans and gargoyles used to co-exist. Gargoyles were nomadic, and traveled in tribes. They used to move around Angoria, trading with humans from different parts of the land. It wasn’t always peaceful, but we were allies; as best as any two different species could be.

  “King Benedict and the Gargoyle Queen Moralla were good friends. She even stood for him when he married Queen Helena. They all grew close, and worked tirelessly to quell the disputes between gargoyles and humans. They hoped that eventually the two races could live together in harmony.

  “Queen Helena gave birth to a daughter, Princess Penelope. King Benedict adored her as much as he adored her mother. Queen Moranta was smitten with the Princess, and King Benedict named Queen Moranta her Royal Protector... her guardian, if you will.”

  Phoenix looked at Rorin, who nodded his affirmation.

  “And...” Phoenix prompted, when Master Malcourt became lost in thought.

  He sighed. “It was Princess Penelope’s succession ceremony. The one where she would sit on the throne for the first time to be formally acknowledged as Angoria’s heir. Queen Moranta had been invited as an honoured guest, and she brought her hatchling daughter with her. It was the intent of the monarchs that the Princesses would be raised alongside one another. That way they would grow as equals and the realms would finally know true peace between them.”

  A snort from Rorin interrupted him. The gargoyle’s expression had darkened. Anger narrowed his eyes, but Phoenix was able to detect an underlying sadness in his features. “It was the perfect opportunity, in hindsight,” Rorin said, his voice surprisingly soft.

  “In hindsight it was,” agreed Master Malcourt.

  “Opportunity?” Phoenix asked.

  “To break the alliance,” Rorin growled.

  Something tickled the back of Phoenix’s memory. Pausing, she thought back to when she’d first arrived at Castle Angor. She could remember what Sophie said when they were sitting down to meal. She had said that the King had lost his Queen...

  Phoenix gasped. “They were murdered.” It was a question more than a statement. When the two nodded in confirmation, she became horrified. “And the babes?”

  Master Malcourt’s expression was bleak. He shook his head.

  “Queen Moranta never returned,” Rorin said into the silence, his tone somewhat defensive. “Neither her nor the Princess.”

  “The blame shifted back and forth for months. Humans and gargoyles kept fighting until King Benedict enacted an uneasy truce, commanding the humans to stand down to allow the gargoyles to leave. We were forbidden to follow them.

  “The King lost his family and his best friend. He was heartbroken,” Master Malcourt said sadly. “As we all were.”

  Phoenix hesitated a moment, then rested a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry,” she said, simply.

  Master Malcourt smiled and gave her hand a squeeze.

  Rorin cleared his throat impatiently, and adjusted his wings against his back.

  Malcourt nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. “This was important for you to know the details, Phoenix, despite how long ago it happened. Do you recall when we first met, how I said that I was on a mission?” When she nodded, he continued. “The King was very ill. It took all of the best-trained Healers in Angoria to keep him alive, but he still continued to worsen. I consulted with Sylvia, and, deciding that something wasn’t right, we set out on a journey.

  “It was a hunch, really. A long shot at best, but we knew we had to try.

  “There’s a rare fruit that grows in the Crystal Forest, beyond the Northern Passage. When treated correctly, it can counteract even the deadliest of environmental reactions. It’s what saved him.”

  “Environmental reactions?” Phoenix asked.

  “Poisons,” Rorin supplied.

  Phoenix gaped at the gargoyle. “Poison?”

  Rorin narrowed his eyes at her skeptically, as if he was wondering about her mental abilities. She shot him a dark glare in response.

  “That’s where you come in, Phoenix,” Master Malcourt said, smoothing over the tension in the room. “King Benedict has recovered well, but only with Sylvia’s expert ministrations - and because of your quick thinking which saved my life.”

  Phoenix felt a flare of satisfaction when Rorin shot her a look of surprised respect.

  “Unfortunately, that is not the end of it,” Master Malcourt continued. “The original assassin was never recovered. The one behind it all. We believe that he will strike again - publically - now that the King is healthy. Price Hallan has remained here, still to the benefit of the King. He will not rest until he catches his sister’s killer.”

  “And neither will we,” Rorin said, the steel in his voice edged with anger. “We will avenge our Queen.”

  Master Malcourt nodded in acknowledgement. “All of our efforts have been renewed. The King’s birthing celebrations creates a unique problem, however. People will be coming from all of Angoria to pay their respects. That means that unknown numbers of people will be coming and going as they please. It will be a large task to keep track of them all, as well as protect the King at the same time.”

  Rorin was watching her. The casual way in which he was leaning against the wall suggested an attitude of indifference, but his gaze was too intense to fool her. She was being tested.

  “If the King dies,” Phoenix said, thinking out loud, “then the war would start up again, wouldn’t it? He’s the reason the fighting stopped. The only reason the gargoyles were banished instead of killed?” When Master Malcourt nodded, she continued. “But who would take over Angoria? King Benedict has no heir...”

  She blinked as realization clicked everything into place. It wasn’t about the Gargoyle War at all. Maybe it never was. King Benedict was the last of his line. The secrecy, the misleading poison, and the quiet discovery of the cure all made sense. They were trying to flush out the assassin’s entire operation. “Someone is trying to take over the kingdom.”

  Rorin shared a look with Malcourt, and his mouth twitched into the smallest of smiles. Phoenix wasn’t sure, but she thought that she could make out a set of pointed fangs peeking from between his lips.

  Master Malcourt gave a tight smile. “It’s been hard to keep this quiet - harder still without knowing who I can trust. That’s why I reached out to the gargoyles. They have nothing to gain from the King’s death. In fact, it’s in their best interest to help us keep him alive.

  “You’re one of the few I can trust, Phoenix. I trust you with my life. I trust you with the King’s life. And I trust that you will put aside your differences and work with the gargoyles. We need you. Your King needs you. I need you. Help us to save his life before the kingdom is destroyed and Angoria is plunged into civil war.”

  CHAPTER 15

  “What’s the matter with you?” Sophie snapped. “You’ve been acting weird all day!”

  It wasn’t often that the four girls were able to sit together for meals anymore, so Sophie’s irritability was visibly dampening their mood. The Masterclothier had her run ragged altering clothing for the guests of the King’s birthing celebrations, and it was not hard to see that the girl was tired.

  Tensions in the castle had been running high over the past few weeks. With all of the new arrivals it was hard to find space to move around - let alone somewhere to enjoy some peace and quiet. Many had begun dining in their rooms instead of coming to the hall for meals.

  “Yeah, Phoenix,” Rae said, biting into a crusty loaf. “What gives?”

  Phoenix had been craning her neck to look around the room, trying to see if she could find someone who looked suspicious. Most of the new arrivals were chatting excitedly amongst themselves, but she took particular notice of Duke Ellington, a distant cousin to the King from his mother’s side, who was sullenly seated by himself. However, she reasoned with herself, he was probably just travel-worn from his long journey.

  “Just seeing who’s around, is all,” she said innocently.

  “Anyone in parti
cular who you were looking for?” Elise asked, her brow raising sardonically.

  Phoenix shook her head hurriedly. She had been looking for King Benedict, in truth, but she knew that the King still rarely frequented the hall for meals anymore. He was still recovering from his illness, and he usually spent his time going between his chambers and his meeting room. She often met with him there, usually at his request - he always wanted to know how her studies were progressing - but she found that the mood of the hall was always more jovial when the King was in attendance.

  “Did you finish your dorm work?” Elise asked her, interrupting Phoenix’s train of thought. Phoenix groaned inwardly, but she must have made a face because Elise scowled. “I assigned that almost a week ago!”

  “You’re almost caught up!” Rae said encouragingly. “You’re pretty much on Sophie’s level!” She then ducked with a grin as the tan-skinned girl launched a seed pastry at her head.

  “Hey!” a voice protested from somewhere behind her, and the four girls had to cover their mouths with their hands to keep their giggling from giving them away.

  “I’ll be glad once these celebrations are over,” Sophie said, once they had all caught their breath.

  “Are you kidding?” Rae asked incredulously. “I can’t wait to celebrate! Music, games, fancy clothes, dancing... Not to mention all the food.”

  “Speaking of fancy clothes,” Elise said excitedly, “what are you guys wearing?”

  “I’ve been saving up, so you know it’s going to be perfect,” Rae said, nudging Sophie with her elbow. “I just know my seamster is gonna make my dress extra special!”

  Sophie rolled her eyes in exasperation. “And I got my material forever ago. So that just leaves you, Elise, since we all know that Phoenix doesn’t need to worry about her clothes,” she said somewhat snidely.

  They all knew what she meant. The King had been supplying her wardrobe all throughout the cold season, stating that whatever she may want or need he was only too happy to give.

 

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