Crown of Lore (Betrayal of Magic Book 1)

by Jenetta Penner

  Jarin stops to catch his breath. Sweat pours down his discolored, rippled cheeks. He licks his dry, cracked lips. Drawing his leg back, he steadies himself for another massive blow, but he goes rigid instead. Cool blue light encompasses his upper body. His eyes bulge before his jaw drops open. The life leaves his face right before he drops to the side like a stiff board. His body hits the ground and dirt kicks up into the air.

  Tristan—frantic—stands in the tent’s opening, a glowing staff in his hand.

  “Arabella, no.” Tristan drops to meet me on the ground. “I’m so sorry. Can you move?”

  I take in a staggered breath. “I-I think so. Get these restraints off, please.”

  Placing the staff on the ground, he reaches over me and fiddles with the cuffs. A moment later they pop open and I slowly bring my arms in front of me. My shoulders remain stiff from being held back for so long, but the feeling starts to return. He helps me sit up and then inspects me for any wounds to treat.

  “Can you move?” he repeats. “We have to get out of here.”

  “Yes, I’ll be all right. Where’s Thea?”

  Grabbing his staff, Tristan assists me to my feet and hauls my arm over his shoulders for support. “I only pretended to be unconscious. She was separated from me as soon as Maxia ordered us out of the tent. I didn’t see where they took her.”

  Shouts from men and women roiling in pain come from just outside the tent. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as the situation worsens. Tristan holds up a finger over his lips, signaling for me to remain quiet. Peeking out for a second, he turns back to me and gestures me forward. Time to move.

  Tristan takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. He rips open the tent’s flap and pulls me out. His weapon bursts to life with crackling magic.

  We stick to the shadows and move from tent to tent, avoiding the open spaces. When we make it to an overgrown tree just outside the camp, Tristan scans the area while determining our next move.

  I lean in close to him and whisper, “We have to find Thea. What’s our plan?”

  He lowers his glowing staff to limit the light and turns to me. “If we have a chance to get to her, we will, but…” he pauses for a second, looking torn, “…but we need to get you to safety. You are my Queen.”

  My chest tightens. “Tristan, we can’t leave Thea.”

  He glances around again at the chaos, then brings his attention back to me. “She could be anywhere. If we go back in, I . . . I risk losing you. My number one duty is to protect the Queendom.”

  His voice is soft. Affected. And the way he looks at me… as if I, Bel—a girl who’s merely a peasant—am a precious treasure to be cherished.

  I break from the intensity of his stare and study the tents instead. The battle is breaking out not far from our present location. Amongst the skirmishes, sparks of blue magic appear, lighting up the dark sky, then disappear as Ravenoak’s troops fight back against Maxia’s camp. Someone screams, and then the sound is cut short. Dead, I guess.

  I inhale a shaky breath and think of Mama and Asher. We could go to them––I could go to them, if I could only escape from Tristan.

  I open my mouth to speak, but before a word gets out, someone grabs Tristan from behind. Another pair of hands catch me and toss me to the ground. A massive man with dark, scraggly hair slams his foot into my chest, pinning me. Sharp rocks dig into my back. Tristan isn’t using his magic. Maxia must have a weapon that blocks magic usage, like back in the tent.

  “Get your hands off me!” Tristan tries to twist away from his light-haired attacker, but it’s no use. The man is inhumanly strong, and without his magic, even Tristan is no match.

  My guard snarls and leaves my side to charge Tristan. Stupid choice.

  Magic bursts to life within me, and both my hands ignite in purple flames. Despite my injuries, I leap to my feet, fueled by the electricity running through my body.

  Jaw clenched, I throw my hands out at the guard who’s lunging for Tristan. Bolts like lighting emit from my palms and strike my target. The man crumples in a fury of lavender energy. Sparks fly and crackle around him. No way he survived that hit.

  I race past the body and point my right-hand at the other guard’s chest. He and Tristan freeze, both pair of eyes wide.

  “Let the Guard go,” I growl. “Or I’ll kill you, too.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE LIGHT-HAIRED man glances at his comrade’s burned body and curses under his breath. He releases Tristan, jerking his hands away as if they’ve been scorched. Then he scrambles toward the camp without a single glance back my way.

  “You should have killed him,” Tristan pants as he watches the guard go. “More will be co—”

  Before he finishes, my knees go weak. Not able to catch myself, Tristan lunges toward me, but not before I hit the ground with a solid thwump.

  “We can’t leave Thea,” I mumble to Tristan, who scoops me into his warm, strong arms.

  “We need to get you out of here, Your Majesty.” His tone brooks no argument.

  The world spins until everything goes dark, but I force my eyes open. I have to stay conscious.

  But I don’t. My vision seems to clear though the world around me changes. The night sky vanishes and I’m back in Arlos. Tristan is gone, and instead of being held in his arms, it’s Asher’s embrace. He smiles widely at me and, while studying his twinkling green eyes and tousled blond waves, I return the expression. I’m home! My heart flutters with relief. This was all just a terrible nightmare. Finally content, I wrap my arms around Asher’s neck and run my fingers through his soft hair, releasing the intoxicating scent of sunshine and earth.

  “Asher, I love you so much.” I draw in close to his lean, strong chest and breathe him in, never wanting to let go. I tip up my chin and my mouth finds his. The kiss is gentle, and the sweetest thing I’ve tasted in . . . well, forever. His hands drift over my back and sides and I grow hungry for more of him, but instead of accepting my advance, confusion pulls at his features and he draws away from me.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Bel!”

  Asher’s face fades away and I want to scream, to pound on the earth and sob. As my heart begs for just one more shared breath with the boy I love, Tristan’s face slowly comes into focus.

  I look around, confused. And then everything floods back. Shock ripples out to each limb and shatters my already breaking heart. What did I just do? Heat rakes up the back of my neck as guilt gnaws on the souring edges of my gut.

  I struggle against Tristan’s arms. “Put me down!”

  “You must be hallucinating,” Tristan whispers.

  “Not anymore,” I say, my words catching on a sob. Everything is becoming painfully clear. I’m never going home to Arlos—to Asher. “Please, Tristan. I–I need to stand for a moment, okay?”

  Tristan stops and gently lowers my feet to the ground.

  I twist toward the camp. Flashes of blue light still illuminate the sky through the trees. The sick feeling in my stomach churns faster, and I chance a glance at Tristan. “Did I do something really stupid?”

  Tristan studies the ground, refusing to meet the question in my eyes, and I know the answer.

  “You were only hallucinating, Your Majesty,” he quietly offers. “That thug, Jarin, did a number on you, and your magic is growing stronger. Your body is being forced to adjust to the changes the powers are making in you.”

  “If my magic is getting more powerful, then I can go back and fight—rescue Thea. You saw what I did to that guy a few minutes ago.”

  “I also saw what happened to you afterward. The aftershocks of using magic may get worse before they settle. The risk is too high.” He casts a longing look toward the camp.

  “You don’t want to leave her either.”

  Tristan scoffs. “Of course I don’t want to leave Thea.” He squares his shoulders. “Can you walk?”

  “What if I order you to go back with me?”

  A vein on his l
eft temple twitches. “Then I will carry you to safety and risk the consequences.”

  “You would risk dungeon or death for defying me?”

  Tristan furrows his dark brows. “It is a soldier’s duty to place the Queen’s life above his own.”

  I shake my head and release a frustrated breath. There’s no use in arguing with Tristan. Physically, he’s much stronger than me, and I won’t use my magic against him. Plus, he knows I won’t throw him in the dungeon anyway.

  “Maxia is unlikely to kill Thea,” he says. “She will want the Princess for leverage. We will have to attempt to rescue her later, if Ravenoak doesn’t first. Now please, let’s go.”

  We don’t get far into the forest before a group of Royal Guards, armed with blue glowing staffs, comes into view. Tristan pulls me behind a massive tree trunk, but I can still see them from my position. Ravenoak waves another fleet of Guards forward while he scans the area in our direction. Narrowing his eyes, he points his illuminated staff directly toward us. I suck in a quiet breath and will my body to remain still. The light passes over us before our bodies disappear into the shadows once more. Seemingly satisfied, he returns the staff to his side, but peers our way for a second longer.

  “Keep moving,” Ravenoak finally shouts to his soldiers before racing to the front of their formation.

  “Do you think he saw us?” I whisper.

  “I have no doubt. Not much gets past that man when it comes to people who are involved with his daughter.” Tristan takes my arm and pilots me in the direction of the castle.

  Staying off the path, the two of us jog over the uneven ground, twigs snapping under our feet. My throat cinches as fear locks up my ability to swallow. I push through the unease, letting Tristan guide me. He knows these woods well. Without him, I might end up back in Arlos. But I can’t return now, there’s too much at stake. I have to do what’s right for all of the Lore Queendom, and that includes Mama and Asher.

  A few agonizing minutes pass, and the burning in my legs has just begun to numb when Tristan throws his arm across my chest, stopping me in place. He hunches over, dragging in deep breaths. I peer over his shoulder and spot a faint, hazy light trickling through the thick vegetation up ahead.

  “Where are we?” I ask, trying to catch my own breath.

  Tristan straightens and wipes sweat from his forehead. “The main gate to the castle is up ahead. I know a rarely used back entrance. The Guard who’s often there owes me a few favors. I’m sure the way we escaped will be sealed now”

  I step closer to him. “I’m not hiding anymore. We’re going through the front gates.”

  “Bel . . . Your Majesty, I can’t allow you to do this.” Tristan’s eyes round. “The risk is too great.”

  I gulp down the pulse pounding in my throat. “I am your Queen, and you will do as I order.”

  Tristan allows a long breath to fall from his lips. “I am at your service.”

  I step toward the main gate and, without further hesitation, Tristan follows my lead. Pulling back branches, we reach the end of the tree line. The forest floor gives way to a cobblestone road that curves toward the castle. The main gate stands about twenty yards ahead. I didn’t see this entrance when I was dragged here against my will last time.

  We move slowly and I study the ornate shrubbery that lines the road. The path is lit by tall golden torches, allowing me to see the beautiful rose bushes, strangely in full bloom in early winter. My breath picks up with anticipation. I have no idea what’s to come, or how the Council and Royal Guards will greet us.

  A loud clank forces us to stop just yards from the iron gates standing before us. Tristan rests a hand on my shoulder, his staff gripped in his other hand. Slowly, the gate begins to open. With every inch opened, more light spills out and puddles across the road. I shield my eyes for a moment as I adjust to the brightness. I take a single step back and Tristan follows. Uncertainty roams over my body as a coolness enters my middle.

  At the edge of the gate, a dark silhouette emerges, golden light haloing around them. Then two more darkened figures move forward, flanking the first person. My eyes fully adjust, and Lady Albright comes into view with half dozen Royal Guards gripping their glowing staffs.

  “Arabella, so nice of you to return,” Albright teases. “Did you think we wouldn’t know if the Queen’s Essence left the grounds?”

  Tristan steps forward. “We had to see the threat for ourselves. Arabella has the right to know. She is—”

  “Enough!” Albright cuts him off. “Young man, you have betrayed your Queendom and trounced all over your oath to your Council. You will be taken to the holding cells until the Council decides your fate.” Albright narrows her sights onto me. “And Arabella, your reckless actions have further shown how you are not worthy of the Queen’s Essence.”

  Lady Albright signals to her Guards to haul us into the castle. A fire rips through me as determination grips my entire body. Stepping forward, I flick my hands out as bright magic dances down my wrists and balls at my fingertips. The deep purple aura expands, radiating several yards from me. Energy pulsates through me, forcing me to stand tall.

  “You will not take us anywhere,” I demand. “I hold the Queen’s Essence. I will be the one who decides my fate. If you dare challenge my right to the Queendom, you will be met with the full force of my powers. I am the Queen of Lore!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  LADY ALBRIGHT’S EYES widen as she takes a step back, as if uncertain. But she quickly regains her composure, and then signals for the Guards to attack.

  Some of the Guards hesitate, watching each other to see who will charge first. A taller Guard—with broad shoulders and deep blue armored plating across his chest and midsection—lifts his staff and sprints toward us. A woman and another bulky man follow his lead, their staffs bursting to life with blue magic as they move on us.

  Tristan steps to my side, just feet from the expanding field of magic I’ve summoned. Facing the fast-approaching Guards, I tighten my middle and every muscle in my arms contract. Then, with a guttural scream, I unleash a wave of energy. A ripple of power slams into them all at once, as if hit by a massive log, knocking the Guards back several feet. They stagger, unable to stand.

  The remaining Guards flank Albright and form a half circle around her. She grits her teeth, a scowl pinching her face. Purple magic swirls around her arms like deadly snakes, settling atop her open palms. Blue light hazes around Albright’s magic as the Guards ready their staffs. They march several feet forward before a burst of fire explodes between us and Albright.

  Seemingly out of nowhere, Fairden and the rest of the Council come into view under the torchlight. Embers of lavender energy trickle from each of them.

  Lord Fairden slowly steps onto the singed cobblestone road. “This has gone too far,” he says to Lady Albright. “It must end. Our quarrel is with Maxia, not Arabella.”

  Lord Terrowin, Lady Rose, Lady Muriel, and even Lady Jacquelyn join Fairden and stand between our two groups.

  “Step aside, Fairden,” Albright hisses. “We have no time for your weakness.”

  Terrowin slowly steps before Fairden. “My Lady,” he says to Albright, “this is not how our distinguished Council acts. We do not resort to force without full support of the Council as a whole. We must ask that you stand down.”

  A smug grin fills Lady Rose’s face as she sidles up to Terrowin. “I am bored with this fighting. The girl has shown no ill will toward us. We have to honor her place in our Queendom. She is our Queen, and we need her more than ever with Maxia’s return.”

  My magic dims as I relax. I’m unable to blink as the Council continues their discussions. Tristan moves closer to me, eyes locked forward.

  “Jacquelyn?” Albright growls. “How can you stand for this?”

  Fairden and Rose step aside as Lady Jacquelyn struts forward, her arms folded across her chest. “I don’t like it, but Rose is right. We are stronger as one, and with the Queen by our side, we will
wipe Maxia from our lands. We need to repair our mistake and destroy her, not this girl.”

  “Are you going to stand against a united Council?” Fairden asks.

  Albright fidgets a second longer, and then she lowers her head. Moments pass, and she finally lifts her chin to Fairden. “I stand with the Council. I will comply with our laws and do what’s best for the Queendom of Lore. I think this is foolish, but I will not stand in the Queen’s way.”

  I glance at her hands, which are balled into fists. Albright is biding her time, and doesn’t want to be cast from the Queendom like Lady Maxia. Even though I don’t need her assistance at present, I also don’t want my first official order to be banishing someone from the Council. If banishment is necessary, it will need to wait.

  Blowing out a slow, intentional breath through my nose, I relax my shoulders and body.

  “Where is the Princess?” Albright asks. “We know she accompanied the two of you across the boundary.”

  I shoot a worried look Tristan’s way. “She was captured.”

  Albright scoffs and turns from us.

  “And you were not?” Lady Rose asks.

  The muscles in my stomach tighten. “We were. Maxia and her army found us and took us captive. They have something that––at least temporarily––rendered our magic useless. Both Thea and Tristan were taken away, and I stayed with Lady Maxia.”

  Jacquelyn takes a step my way. “And then what happened?”

  “Maxia attempted to remove the Queen’s Essence from me,” I say. “She wore a small version of the Talisman. If Tristan hadn’t escaped from the guards and returned, I believe she would have taken it.”

  Albright’s lips pinch together and she wrings her hands. “So, her goal is not only to usurp the throne—but to actually steal the Essence.”

  “And you were unable to locate the Princess after your escape from Maxia?” Lady Rose asks.

  I open my mouth to speak, but Tristan interrupts.

  “Excuse me, Your Majesty and Council members, but I decided to leave Princess Thea.”