“Yeah, I've got it.” The Faeline dug in her robe pocket and produced a shimmering black cloth. She unhooked the cage from the ceiling, then lowered it to the floor and draped the blanket over it. My already-limited perception fell into muffled darkness. “Sure you can handle this thing, Liantor? This cage is awfully heavy for the likes of you. I want it back when you're done with it, too. If you think you can lift it a second time, that is. Never know when I'll have a troublesome pixie to quarantine.”
Liantor. I knew that name. Liantor Lightborn, Crown Prince of Bacra, eldest son of High King Nylian. I wondered if this could be a different Liantor, considering how informally the Faeline spoke to him.
“Do not ridicule me, Vedalun. You know perfectly well I have no need to lift the cage.” The elf was close to me, likely crouching next to the cage.
“Just a little humor between warlocks,” the Faeline said. She laughed and the sound of scuffing feet echoed through the cell. “Can't I joke with an old friend?”
“As long as you don't tell anyone we're friends. My father doesn't approve of fraternizing with the Fae.”
“You're father's a shitwitted cockwomble.”
“I am not going to argue against that assessment, but I urge you not to repeat it. Good night, Vedalun.”
“Where are you taking her?” Ragan demanded.
“Shut up, abomination.” The Faeline growled, then laughed. “He's gonna roast it up with some rosemary and plum sauce and serve it for dinner. Let that give you some nightmares.”
The world fell sideways and the cage filled with stars. Serida braced herself, but there was no need to. The motion we felt wasn't real.
The dungeon stench vanished and was replaced by the clean scents of chalky marble and fresh-cut flowers. Feet echoed upon stone and the cage was lifted by two people of differing heights. The cage floor sat at a steep incline and Serida grabbed the bars to keep from being thrown into a heap on the lower end.
“Take it to the Spellkeeper's quarters. My father is waiting.”
“Certainly, Your Highness.”
I felt rocking movement, and Serida's rising heartbeat. Spellkeeper, Spellkeeper, could that be Shan? Were there other Spellkeepers in Bacra?
“Serida's in Anthora now. Crown Prince Liantor is a warlock,” I said, hopefully out loud to Iefyr. I wasn't certain I spoke in my own form at all, because all I heard was a loud and resonant, “Chirp?”
“Sir, if I may ask, what are we carrying?” one of the cagebearers asked.
“Something that belongs to the Spellkeeper,” Liantor replied. “That is as much as you need to know.”
Serida's fear crept into my own mind and body and left both of us shaking and gasping. “It's okay, it's okay, it's okay,” I repeated to her over and over, but I didn't know if she heard me. If she heard me, it didn't help. Both of our bodies trembled, as our chests tightened and our feet grew cold.
The motion ceased, then I felt a falling sensation as the cage was lowered to the ground. A tiny sliver of white stone was visible beneath the black blanket. Serida lowered her head to look under the sheet, but we saw only stone and the muddied heel of a black riding boot.
“Leave us,” said a voice both soft-spoken and stern. It didn't belong to Shan, or to anyone else I recognized. “Not you, Liantor.”
Footsteps on stone, then the click of a door somewhere behind me.
“I have retrieved the dragon, Father,” Liantor said. He was just in front of me and up. It must have been his boot I glimpsed.
“Let me see him.” Shan. That was definitely Shan's voice. A scuff of slippered feet, then the blanket was ripped away. Light assaulted my eyes. Shan's hands flew to his mouth. “This isn't my dragon.”
“This is the dragon retrieved from Kethra,” Liantor said. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, but kept his hands relaxed at his sides.
Shan stood and turned around. “This is not my dragon. This is Serida. Tessen's dragon. Where is Lumin and where the hell is my brother?”
“I . . . only one dragon was found at the inn. This dragon. The Faelands Security Captain had the local sheriff direct your half-brother toward Belise, so I assume he is on his way there.”
“What the sarding hell is in Belise? Is that where Serida was? Is that where Ragan is?”
“No.”
“Listen, asshole. I know you can teleport, so take Serida to Tessen and bring Lumin to me. Or better yet, bring all four of us together, go get Marita out of whatever dungeon you've put her in, and rescue Ragan because I know whatever they have planned for him is going to kill him.”
“I will not interfere with the affairs of the Fae,” Liantor said.
“Then you're sarding useless.” Shan knelt next to the cage and fiddled with the lock. “Unlock this gods-damned thing. She trusts me, but look at her, she's terrified.”
“Do as he says, Liantor,” said the unknown speaker. I assumed he was the High King, but I wasn't able to see him from Serida's position on the floor. “And then you may leave. Go bathe and burn those clothes. I can smell the Fae stench from here.”
Liantor crouched next to me and drew a tarnished key for the lock. As he turned it, he leaned toward Shan and whispered, “I'm sorry.”
“Fix this,” Shan whispered in return.
The cage door swung open and Serida took complete control. She bolted past Shan and dove beneath an upholstered chair. Her instinct was to close her eyes and cower, but I forced her eyes to remain open so I could take in what little we could see of our surroundings.
A violet and silver rug sat upon the white stone floor, and surrounding the rug were three more chairs like the one we hid under. The edge of a bed frame was barely visible to the left, bookshelves lined the right wall, and a fire burned in a marble hearth directly in front of us. We were just close enough to feel its warmth on our face. I coaxed Serida to turn her head far enough to watch Liantor and the cage leave the room.
Shan sat on his knees next to the chair and leaned forward until his head touched the floor. A heavy silver bracelet was locked to his left wrist. Its surface was decorated with runes I couldn't read. “Hey, Serida. I know I'm not Tessen, but I'll keep you safe while I find a way to get you back to him. I promise.”
“Get off the floor, Shannon,” the other voice said. I still couldn't see the speaker.
Shan sat back on his knees and rested his hands on his thighs. “Why don't you take this shackle off me so I can switch the dragons?”
“I cannot trust you to return. If you cooperate, in a few days you may be free to wander the grounds. When you prove yourself trustworthy you will gain free movement within Anthora. I will not allow you to teleport until I have your full allegiance.”
“You have eyes all over Bacra. If I don't come back, I'm sure you'll find me again soon enough, and lock me right back up. Please, let me get Lumin.”
“A separation trial is beneficial for both of you. Leave your half-brother's cowardly dragon down there for now and rise. It is such a shame that she was bound to a human. Human dragonbound can never be more than mediocre, so neither can their dragons. It is such a sad waste of what promised to be a magnificent creature.”
“Tessen's not mediocre,” Shan said. He dragged his fingertips along the floor, then braced himself against the chair and stood. “Where is Marita? I want to talk to her.”
“Marita? Do you mean Linmara Starbright? She is being held in a secure tower until one of my warlocks is able to transport her to her brother in Jadeshire. Duke Starbright has requested her safe return.” Soft-soled shoes padded against the floor and the High King's feet came into view. He stopped at the edge of my field of vision, so I was able to see no more than silver stitching on red suede.
“Please don't take her back there. Don't give her to him. Do you have any idea what he did to her? Don't send her back to that monster.”
“What would you have me do?” The High King's voice was calm and measured, almost soothing. “I understand you are romantically
involved with Lady Starbright, but as she is an unmarried woman who is not carrying a potential heir, her choices are limited.”
“Then marry her to me,” Shan said. He paced several times across the rug before stopping in front of the High King. “If she'll agree to it, marry us. Then Lindaer can't have her, can't hurt her. Please.”
A tapping noise I assumed was fingernails on a polished wooden table echoed off the stone and marble. “I suppose I can arrange that. You are quite young to marry, but it is not unheard of, especially for a half-human. If she agrees to marry you, she may stay with you here in Anthora. If she does not agree, she will return to Jadeshire.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Shan said, his voice choked.
The High King exhaled as he slowly walked toward the fireplace. Dark pant cuffs and the hem of his red cloak came into view, but I still couldn't see his face. “You are an insolent child, aren't you? I will tolerate your disrespect since I'm certain it came down along my bloodline. My sister Nyra was a lot like you. She was a year younger than me and wasn't intelligent enough to know when not to speak her mind. My mother wasn't so tolerant, which I suppose is why she married Nyra all the way down to Lord Hanalis Goldtree of the Jade Realm the day she turned eighteen. I never saw her again. She survived her only child being cut from her womb, but his birth disabled her and she died when he was ten. It was an unfortunate mistake to arrange for my daughter to marry Nyra's eccentric son. However common they may be, cousin marriages do not always produce competent offspring, and from what I've observed, the Jade Realm is better off without Daelis Goldtree as Duke.”
“My father is competent.”
“Your father takes after his grandmother. He doesn't know his place or anyone else's. He is weak and what he sees as compassion will only lead to death and destruction at the hands of those who should never be allowed to rise. You, though . . . you have potential. You have the Goldtree name, but you have a Lightborn spirit. That's why Ranalae chose you as Spellkeeper, and I agree with her decision on the matter. It was one of the few things we ever agreed upon. The girl had no respect for the dragonbind, so I knew early she had no place in Anthora. I visited her when she was four years old. She didn't know who I was to her for many years after, but she took to me then. I brought her a dragon egg, a very rare and wonderful balefire dragon. It hatched for her and she bound to this extraordinary new soul. I remember him well. His name was Kirdan and his eyes were like smoldering coals. A week after he hatched, Ranalae walked up to me with Kirdan in her arms. She held him before me, then snapped his neck. She dropped him on the floor at my feet and walked away while he fought for the breaths he could no longer take. I held him as he died, held him and watched the fear and confusion in his eyes fade as his life was extinguished. I knew then that the daughter I couldn't acknowledge was a monster and I could never allow her to be my heir. I was young then, and thought perhaps her malevolence was my fault, so I waited another twenty-one years to marry and father another child. Liantor is not the most extraordinary of my children by any means, but he is no Ranalae and I trust him not to destroy the world our family has worked so hard to build.”
Shan stood in silence, facing the crackling fireplace.
“You do not seem surprised that your grandmother murdered a newborn dragon,” the High King said.
Shan sighed and leaned away from the High King. “I'm not. I don't think I can be surprised by any stories about her anymore. She spent three years training me only to throw me underground, torture me, and mutilate me, all while she tried to murder her own son, her only living child. She taught me most of what I know and how to hide my skills when necessary, but she did not hesitate to carve me into pieces when it convenienced her.”
“Did she teach you the Seven Stars ritual? The one you used to escape to the Faelands?”
Shan took two steps toward the fire. “No. I learned that on my own after she . . . after she died. It was the first thing she wrote into my flesh, so I knew it was important. That spell was not easy to learn, mind you. I had many errors . . . many . . . before I figured out I needed to be part of the circle for it to work. Fortunately, I figured that out right when I needed it, right when Starbright's soldiers nearly stumbled over us in the middle of the night. They were loud, so that gave me plenty of warning, but I had barely enough time to arrange everything before they came into view. The ritual worked, though. We were exactly where I intended us to be and we were shadowed from any meddling fools who might cast locating spells to find us.”
“How many failed attempts did you have before your success?” the High King asked.
“Eleven.” Shan sputtered his lips and rocked on his heels. “Eleven failed attempts. Seventy-seven dead Jarrah, fifty-six dead horses, fourteen dead dragons, and seven dead donkeys. Dead, dead, dead. Every time I started with fourteen living, breathing beings, and every time they emerged dead at the endpoint. Fail and fail and fail again until I joined the circle, put two newborn dragons in the center, and got it right. Those people I killed were Jarrah, but that is still a huge sacrifice to make. I would much rather have imprisoned them than killed them, but you refused to listen to me when I came to you with evidence of their crimes, so I had to do something myself.”
“Elven vermin are still vermin, and this is why I greatly respect your spirit. You are reckless and lack discipline, but you are able to balance those deficits with skill and ambition without falling to the cruel sociopathy with which your grandmother was cursed. You are not destined to be among my heirs, but you have great purpose and a place here in Anthora. I hope you choose to accept this as the gift it is.”
Shan left the fireplace to sit in the chair above me. Dust fell onto Serida's nose and she sneezed. “I . . . I am considering it, but I need some things to be fixed before I can commit to what you offered. I need Lumin, and I need Serida to be returned to Tessen. I need to be allowed to speak with Tessen. I need proof that my parents and sisters are alive and safe, and a guarantee they will remain that way. I need access to the entirety of the palace library, including the any restricted sections you might have hidden away. I need Marita brought here so she can personally give me her answer on marriage because I don't trust anyone's word but hers.”
“Oh? You're giving me terms, Shannon?” The High King laughed, then paced out of sight. “I suppose some of what you require is reasonable. I'll begin with your final demand. The others may be possible in time.”
“Bullshit. You could reunite my family tonight if you felt like it. I am willing to give you a few more days to comply because if what Liantor told me is true, Ragan's life depends on the faint chance that Tessen can figure out where he is, but no one seems to know where the hell Tessen is. I'd add Ragan's survival to my terms, but that would likely mean starting some sort of war with the Fae and that's not how I want to start my time here. I'm not heartless, but I'm tired. You have no interest in helping him and I can't think of a realistic way to save him so I need to leave that to my brother.”
The High King shuffled past Shan and toward the door. “You are not thinking clearly, child, and I see it is because you are exhausted. You are more valuable to me than you realize and I will try to restore some of the order the Fae ripped from you when they stole your brother's dragon. I will immediately have the girl brought to you so she can make her decision, and then you must sleep. ”
Shan waited until the door closed before whispering, “I don't remember how.” He dangled his hand off the chair and beckoned. “Come here, Serida. It's just us for a few minutes, so don't be scared. Marita should be here soon, too. You know her and you seem to like her well enough. I'm not ready to marry her, but I'll do what I must to protect her from Lindaer. She deserves better than me, though, and I think she knows that.”
Serida sniffed Shan's fingers. His skin smelled of cedarwood soap. She licked his fingers, then pressed her head against his palm. I tried to coax her out of the shadows, but I was too tired. My vision was gray around the edges and I suspect
ed I was on the cusp of sleep.
“It's okay if you want to stay down there,” Shan said, rubbing Serida's chin with his thumb. “I know you're scared. Lumin is, too. I can feel him, but I don't know if there is a way to communicate with him. I'll have to read into that if I can wake up enough to focus. You're safe with me, so stay where you're comfortable. Get some sleep. It's going to take a while, but once I have everything in order–”
I remembered nothing else and woke at sunrise not knowing if I'd fallen asleep or if clouds had swallowed the moon and broken my link with Serida. I did now know one thing for certain, though—my brother was a liar.
Chapter 40
I couldn't tell them. We needed to focus on Ragan, and that could fall apart if they knew Shan was the one responsible for much of our plight. It wasn't so much that he had teleported us all to the Faelands, since he did it to protect us, but instead that he had lied about it. He lied about training as a warlock and pretended to be incompetent when he could have taken us straight to Anthora from the start. Instead, he dragged us to the far north and nearly got us all killed. And he killed people himself. I couldn't forget that, his claim of killing seventy-seven Jarrah. The Shan I knew no longer existed. Maybe he never had existed at all.
I opened my eyes to find Kemi staring at me. The others were still asleep, except for Nador, who bumbled around in the bushes a small distance away from the camp.
“Did you stay awake long enough to link with your dragon?” Kemi rubbed her wrist with her opposite thumb and continued to stare.
“Yes.”
“Did you learn anything important?”
Everything. I learned everything. And nothing. What was Shan doing toying with the High King? What game was he playing and why? “We need to get to Parandor as soon as possible. Ragan is scheduled to die in the arena tomorrow. I don't . . . Serida was moved. Crown Prince Liantor teleported her to Anthora himself, thinking she belonged to Shan. He's there, in Anthora. Sounded like he was trying to negotiate with the High King. They . . . they don't know where we are or that anyone is helping us. They think we're on our way to Belise.”
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