Crown of Lore (Betrayal of Magic Book 1)

by Jenetta Penner

  Fairden opens the door. Before he has the chance to speak, the captain stops him.

  “You should remain in the carriage, Your Majesty,” he says. “The Royal Guard will assess the situation in Arlos first.”

  A burning sensation fires the skin around my marking with such intensity, I believe this may be a prompting by Queen Isolde. “Thank you for your concern Captain Ravenoak, but I will do my own assessing.”

  Tristan reaches for me, but I’m too quick for him. Head held high, I push past Ravenoak in the opening and carefully march past him.

  My feet touch the dirt road, I peer up at my hometown—and go still. Anger surges through my entire body at the sight before me. Smoke billows over the town as well as the people, who are running down the streets in panic. A few families have loaded up carts with their belongings and have begun pushing them out of town. I have no idea where they’ll go. Other towns, like Borandice, won’t take Relic class people—people like Mama and Asher.

  “We have to help them.” I swing around to Ravenoak, Fairden, and Tristan. “We need to find my mother.”

  Three female Guards approach us, bow their heads to me, and then focus on Ravenoak.

  “Maxia’s army is nearing the town center,” a Guard with chestnut hair, tightly pulled into a low bun, reports. I recognize her. Her squad is stationed in Arlos, to keep the peace. “So far there have been no deaths, only property destruction.”

  “Maxia is just taunting us,” Ravenoak mutters.

  Fairden pulls his attention to Ravenoak. “Have your Guards order the people of Arlos to remain inside. Mass panic will only hinder our efforts. We must keep the Lore people away from Maxia’s army.”

  My mind wanders back to the memory of Favian, the town drunk, and how he tried to engage one of the Royal Guard. That soldier killed Favian without a second thought—and that Guard is now one of my men. Maxia’s army is even more likely to kill without remorse since Arlos is filled to the brim with peasants, and peasants are a token a dozen.

  My legs begin to shake, and Tristan sidles up to me and offers his arm, as if sensing my need for support. I take his kind offer and, strangely, his nearness makes me feel more courageous. At least Asher is safe at the castle, but I need to ensure his family and my Mama are safe, too.

  “I’m going into town,” I declare.

  Fairden’s mouth slackens. “Majesty—”

  “I will escort her,” Tristan says.

  Ravenoak squares his shoulders. “As well as an entourage of Royal Guard.” He waves to a group of Guards, and they begin jogging toward us, staffs in hand.

  “Sir!” a dark-skinned Guard calls out as he stops in front of the Captain.

  “You and your men will accompany the Queen into Arlos,” he says. “Protect her with your lives.”

  With a curt nod to Ravenoak, the Guard says, “Yes, sir!” He then spins on his heels to face me. “We are ever in your service, Your Majesty.”

  “I thank you for your loyalty.” I straighten my back and step forward toward Arlos.

  Surrounded by my small personal army and with Tristan at my side, we enter the town. The crumbling cement and steel buildings loom over us like an impending storm. Guards are already in the process of ordering the people to stay inside, but many townspeople are too frightened to listen. One man tries to tie up what might be all his earthly belongings on the back of a mule, but the beast keeps stepping away, and the man’s hands are shaking too much. I recognize him, a man named Doran who sometimes hunts outside Arlos. Mama buys meat from him for special occasions, like my birthday. I know he doesn’t have much.

  I reach into my pocket and graze my fingers over the pouch of tokens inside. I pull a few coins from the pouch and jog toward Doran, placing my hand onto his shoulder as I arrive.

  He flinches and twists his head toward me. Doran’s attention lands on the decorative window in my sleeve framing my marking. Not even looking at my face, his eyes widen as he recognizes the marking of the Queen. He shoots a glance to the army around me and falls to his knees on the ground, shaking.

  “Your Majesty,” he sobs. “Please don’t punish us. We are only trying to save ourselves.”

  “Please stand,” I say. “I need for you to return to your home, to remain safe.”

  Doran throws me a quick glance, but just as he averts his eyes, recognition fills them. “Arabella?”

  “Yes.” I place the tokens into his hand. “Take these and go home. The Royal Guard is here to protect you and all of Arlos on my order.”

  Moving his attention back and forth between my face and the tokens in his palm, Doran eventually grabs my hand and kisses it. “Thank you, Your Majesty, thank you.” He quickly gathers his mule, and then pulls his belongings toward his home.

  A crowd now gathers nearby. Many of them whisper but don’t approach me, as if unsure of what to do. I hear my name mentioned multiple times, but there’s no time to explain why I’m Queen, especially after I was hidden away at the Ceremony. Instead, I hold my head high and start handing out more tokens to them.

  “Go back to your homes,” I call. “The Royal Guard is here to protect you, not harm.”

  As I distribute the tokens, I’m fully aware of what they mean to them. Quite a few shed tears and mutter their thanks.

  Cowering behind several people, I spot two scruffy, orange-haired brothers I know—Taro and Salis. Nervousness roils in my stomach. These two bullies often made my life a living hell. But instead of letting the past rule me, I continue working my way through the crowd. When I get to them, they keep their heads low, but I push several tokens into each of their palms. Salis glances down at me, his eyes welling with uncharacteristic thankfulness.

  “We all have demons in our past,” I whisper. “Go home to your parents and make sure they are safe.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Taro mumbles, and then they scurry off.

  My gaze lands on a mother and her child, both wearing tattered clothes, who are hovering near the edge of the dwindling crowd. I dump the last bit of tokens into her hand. She sobs as she stares wide-eyed at them.

  “Bless you,” is all she says before she scurries away.

  “Return to your homes at once,” Tristan announces. “The Queen needs to attend to her duties.”

  Stabbing guilt pains my heart. I don’t have enough tokens for everyone. Sadness lines the faces of many in the dispersing crowd, men and women who will go without tonight, unlike their neighbors. I etch their grief into the forefront of my mind. Their disappointment will haunt me later. I don’t want to forget them.

  “Bel!”

  The voice breaks through my thoughts.

  I whip around, and the word tumbles from my mouth. “Mama!”

  Mama, with her hair loose and messy, races toward me. I catch her in an embrace. We squeeze each other so tight, I wish I could never let go.

  “You’re okay?” I whisper into her ear.

  She eases from me, and I get a full view of her tear-stained face. “A neighbor told me you were here.”

  “Do you know if Asher’s parents and brother are safe at home?”

  “They decided to stay a bit longer to protect their farm. Josef said he’d fight anyone off with a pitchfork.”

  I shake my head. Asher’s father is just as determined as Asher. A good man.

  “But I don’t know where Asher is. Maria is worried sick.”

  “He’s at the castle—safe.” I gaze deeply into her eyes. “We need to get you safe and sound, too.”

  “What about you?” Mama asks. “You really shouldn’t be out here, either.”

  “Your Majesty,” Tristan interrupts from my side.

  I swing my attention to him and note his furrowed brow.

  “We must move from here and meet up with the rest of the Guard,” he urges.

  I nod. “Please ensure my mother is escorted home and that a Guard is stationed outside.”

  Tristan bows. “Very well, Your Majesty.”

  I grab
Mama for another quick hug and release her to the care of two Royal Guards. “I’ll be fine, Mama.”

  The line forming between her brows tells me she wants to argue, but she doesn’t, and allows the Guards to pilot her away. Tension pulls at my shoulders and neck as I watch her disappear from view, but I allow Tristan and my entourage to guide me to Ravenoak and his soldiers stationed at the town square.

  Fairden greets us, his face drawn with worry. “Your Majesty, we can still return to the secured location, outside the town limits and in our carriage.”

  I shake my head. I’m well aware Fairden isn’t saying this out of cowardice, only concern for my safety. “No, this is where I need to be. I want my people to know I will fight to defend them. What is the plan?”

  Lord Fairden bows his head. “Ravenoak and his soldiers will lead the attack, and we will follow behind. If there is an opportunity for a negotiation to end the fighting or retrieve the Princess, then you and I will be called upon. But this does not mean that we will avoid fighting, so you will need to prepare your mind to use your magic for an extended period.”

  I honestly don’t know what it’s like to use magic for more than a few seconds. My expression must give away my concern because Fairden places a hand on my shoulder.

  “Quiet your thoughts as much as you can and allow the energy to flow through you. Don’t question—just do.”

  I gulp down the lump in my throat and touch his hand. “Thank you for believing in me.”

  Tristan ushers us forward, and my entourage of protectors flank us and follow behind on the now mostly empty streets. Above us, occasional windows open and townspeople peer out from their shops.

  The town center lies ahead of us, with Lore’s flag still waving in the air. “Why are Maxia’s people all in the square now?” I ask. “All in one place?”

  Before Tristan or Fairden get the chance to answer, weapons and magic explode into a deafening roar and brighten the streets ahead of us.

  “Attack!” Ravenoak yells, and the Guards in front spring into action, staffs lit blue.

  My hands also erupt with purple magic, as does Fairden’s. The clang of swords unsheathing sounds from behind. I whirl on my boot heels. Before me is a small army; each man and woman fighting for Maxia, each face pinched with anger, teeth bared, weapons at the ready.

  Tristan plants himself near me and extends his glowing staff. “Stay near me!” he yells over the chaos.

  My heart pounds as my personal Guards engage the enemy. The electricity of blue magic shoots from their staffs and hit several attackers square in the chest. A woman with a scarred face and tattered clothes drops to the ground in a heap. I tear my attention from her to a Royal Guard who’s screaming as a sword pushes through his middle.

  After a clear view of his attacker, I throw my hand out before me. A purple burst of lightning shoots from my palm and strikes the murdering woman directly in the chest. She’s driven off her feet and slams into the ground ten feet back.

  Tristan drives the end of his staff into the middle of a man who had raced toward me, sword raised. The man crumbles to the ground.

  I mouth a thanks to Tristan.

  “Your Majesty,” he says, and then lunges at another man to his side.

  Nearby, Fairden uses his magic with surprising grace. The ease in which a man of his years moves is impressive. Each movement has purpose.

  We continue to attack and drive back Maxia’s army, until I hear the shout: “Retreat!”

  In no less time than it took to start, the battle is over. The attackers who survived fall back.

  “We surrender.”

  The words echo to us from where Ravenoak was fighting. Fairden gives me a tentative smile.

  “We need to go up there.” I gather my breath as Tristan returns to my side.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Fairden agrees.

  A handful of my Royal Guard are dead, but the majority of bodies scattered across the ground belong to Maxia’s camp. On the way to the front lines, I avert my eyes from them and focus on the stage in the middle of the town square, where Ravenoak has surrounded the remaining enemy.

  A tall woman with stringy white hair throws her sword down, as do the people all around her. The weapons clank as they hit the ground.

  “You have won,” she declares.

  I consider the woman and reply, “We want to live in peace.”

  The woman’s lips twitch into a wry smile and she moves to the left, apparently signaling the rest of her group to do the same.

  Behind them is Thea, bound and flanked by several burly men. Her clothes are ripped and dirty. She hangs her head, and her knees shake as if she could fall at any second. The hulking men are not armed, but they hold out their hands, palms up. My eyes widen as each of their hands light with a red glow.

  My stomach drops. Some of these people have magic.

  “Thea?” I call out, unsure of what’s going on.

  Ravenoak starts forward, but I catch his arm.

  “No,” I warn. “Something is wrong.”

  Ravenoak rips his arm from my grasp as a low growl escapes his throat, but Tristan holds his ground and extends his staff toward the Captain.

  “You are out of order, Captain Ravenoak,” Tristan says. “Stand down.”

  Quick as a snap, Ravenoak turns his staff on Tristan again and releases its magic. The blue bolt hits Tristan in the shoulder, and his weapon flies from his hands as Tristan stumbles to the ground.

  “Tristan!” I shout and start for him.

  He holds out his hand. “I’m fine.”

  I race to his side and touch his face.

  “I’m fine,” he repeats. “Deal with Thea.”

  I straighten and find Fairden already scowling at Ravenoak, but he quickly returns his attention to the white-haired woman.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he demands, but the woman doesn’t answer.

  I turn my attention back to Thea, her attention wavering back and forth between me and Tristan. Her jaw is tense, and her chest rises and falls in quick breaths.

  Before I have the chance to say anything to her, a group of five Guards race toward Ravenoak and conference privately with him. Ravenoak shoots a longing gaze up to his daughter, who’s in the process of being gathered up and pulled away. Ravenoak then turns to his army.

  “This was a diversion. Maxia is attacking the east side of Arlos.”

  Fear shudders through my body.

  My home is on the east side.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A SCREAM PIERCES the air. I whip my attention toward the shrieking, but can’t see anything. Thea and Maxia’s people are gone, and only an echo of the Princess’s terror now remains, quickly fading into the street.

  “Thea.” Ravenoak growls his daughter’s name again and again as my chest tingles with nervousness.

  A sob catches in the back of my throat and I turn on Tristan. “You said they wouldn’t harm her.”

  Tristan grunts as he stands, clutching his hurt shoulder. “I may have been wrong. Nothing here is going as planned.”

  I leave Tristan to risk speaking with Ravenoak. His duty must still bind him to me because he hasn’t abandoned me to go after Thea.

  “If Maxia’s people are going to harm the Princess, we need to rescue her, and now,” I say to him. “Tristan, Fairden, and I will lead the defense on the east side, and you take part of the Guard to get her back.”

  “I would highly advise against that,” Tristan says.

  Fairden joins him at my side. “I agree. Splitting the Royal Guard is not advisable.”

  “I won’t have Maxia take any more from this Queendom than she already has,” I say.

  “But this is not the way to do it,” Tristan urges.

  I puff up my chest. “You were wrong the last time I listened to you.”

  Lines form along Tristan’s forehead, but I ignore them. There are much more pressing issues than his disagreement.

  “The Royal Guards have far mor
e training than Maxia’s army,” I add. “We just need to drive her camp back for now.”

  Tristan opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

  “I am the Queen, and these are my orders!” I glower at Ravenoak. “Do you agree, Captain?”

  Ravenoak’s chest heaves, his attention flicking the way the scream came from again. His eyes soften slightly from his anger toward me. “Yes, Your Majesty.” He bows his head and calls for a large group of Guards to follow him.

  “We must gather the troops and head east, at once,” Fairden says.

  “Yes,” I say, and gesture for Tristan to order them forward—and he obeys.

  My mind twists with thoughts of Mama, and I pick up the pace. The air is thick with smoke as we reach the Arlos’ east side. People no longer remain in their homes as we advised. Families flood down the main street, heading the opposite way of us. No one stops them, and I see why. Growing flames lick at many of the buildings, consuming the brittle structures.

  Their homes are burning to the ground, and there’s nothing they can do put out the fires.

  I steel myself as a horde of Maxia’s army marches our way.

  “Attack!” Tristan’s voice comes from my side, and he waves the Guards behind us onward. Bursts of blue magic erupt, and enemy after enemy is quickly taken out.

  As we move forward, windows blow out of homes and shops with tremendous force. Orange flames and smoke spread, and a gray haze fills the air above.

  Several women and children scream, cover their heads, and race past us.

  I spot my shop and home: Garin Salvage. The worn sign hanging above our shop swings free on one side, broken. I scan the area for Mama but don’t see her. The building is untouched, but the two Guards I stationed with her are not outside.

  On the same block, townspeople are fighting in hand-to-hand combat with Maxia’s army, but I can’t tell who’s winning. Bodies are everywhere.

  While sickness roils in my stomach over the loss of life, my hands light with magic. I race ahead toward the building, followed by Fairden, Tristan, and a handful of Guards.

  As I get closer, my eyes widen. Fighting off a group of four men is Asher. He wields a scavenged sword with surprising skill and grace. Two children that I recognize as Asher’s cousins cower behind a cluster of wooden barrels.