“I hope you are right,” Tyriad stated, continuing to walk toward the dining hall. “Because if it goes the way it has been seen, neither Pike nor Shayla will return.”
Asphodul and Tyriad made their way into the hall and took a seat at the small table in the center of the room. Tyriad looked down at the furniture, not knowing what happened to the large table that normally filled the room. Asphodul took a seat and looked up at his inquisitive face.
“It was so quiet here, I felt ridiculous sitting alone at that huge table, so I switched it out for a smaller one,” she explained.
“Ah,” Tyriad chuckled, “you were always so clever.”
“Sensible, I think would be a better word.”
“Though a better word, I can’t remember a time that ‘sensible’ was used to describe you,” Tyriad said, laughing. “Maybe uncontrollable or flippant, but not sensible.”
“Well,” she said defensively, “fae can grow even after centuries of life. How else would we increase our magical gifts?”
“Speaking of magic,” Tyriad said, clearing his throat and setting his napkin in his lap, “the dead King is growing stronger by the day.”
“I know,” Asphodul interrupted. “He is able to block my visions of him, which takes great power. I worry he will be part of Osiris’ war, since I can’t see anything other than the beginning of it.”
“That is partly why I have come to bring shifters back to help in the fight,” Tyriad replied as the staff set food in front of them, bowing. “Though they are strong in their armies, I worry it may not be enough if the dead King arrives.”
“If the dead King arrives, no army will be enough if he decides to go into battle,” Asphodul responded. “But I don’t get the feeling he is coming to fight. There is something I cannot see but can feel, and it has to do with that servant girl, Malaya.”
“She is the dead King’s mate,” Tyriad stated.
“Yes, but it is more than that,” Asphodul said, staring off into the distance. “A darkness greater than the dead King.”
“Greater than the dead King?” Tyriad asked, a flash of panic moving across his face. “That would be terrible.”
“I agree,” Asphodul stated, turning toward her food. “That is why I cannot okay more than thirty percent troop drainage from the Vale army, not including shifters.”
“To be honest, I didn’t even expect that. King Osharus will be grateful,” Tyriad stated as he ate the pork on his plate. “And I will feel more confident in my place at the castle.”
Asphodul and Tyriad sat quietly for the rest of their meal, clouded by their own personal thoughts. When dinner was done and they had taken a night walk through the gardens, they returned to their chambers, ready to retire for the night. Asphodul stood timidly by the window, listening to the blowing of the leaves on the other side of the cliffs.
“How long are you home for?” she asked, not turning from the window.
“Sadly, just the night. With Osiris readying to move at any moment, I need to get the troops back to the port,” Tyriad replied, wrapping arms tightly around Asphodul and turning her toward him. “That is why we should make the most of our time together.”
Asphodul looked up and smiled as Tyriad stared down at her with a boyish charm. She could see a flash of the young, free-spirited shifter move across his eyes as he pulled her close to him. Tyriad ran his hands down her back and untied the laces on the back of her dress. She stepped backward and pulled the dress from her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. Tyriad moved in close, pressing her breasts against him and kissing her down her neck. He knew he had come for the army, but he also knew that part of him came for Asphodul.
As the breezes steadily blew across the gorges that surrounded the castle of the fae, Asphodul slipped beneath the sheets of her bed, welcoming her husband into her. Sparkling stars shot across the night sky, and the creatures of the Vale forest rested easy, knowing their rulers were once again together. And as Asphodul moved in the embrace of her mate and lover, part of her wondered if this would be the last time she felt it.
Chapter Twelve: Lost in a Dream
Osharus and Georges stood in the cold night air, watching as Leonetta prepared her space for the spell. She would first enter into the mind of Osiris and attempt to find out his plans toward moving on the Cascading Seas. From there, she would try to get as close to the dead King’s mind as she could without being detected. Holland had told Leonetta of Malaya’s necromancer brother, Alfontus, who would stand to be her target for the night’s spell. He would most likely be sleeping at this hour, which would make her intrusion even simpler. Though Leonetta could enter the minds of those who were awake, she much preferred entering through the dream world.
“I thought we were going to look at visions,” Osharus said, confused.
“The future can change quickly,” Ardontis explained as he washed the stones needed for the ceremony. “But if we can know the plans of our enemies, it will save us from the unexpected shift of future events.”
Leonetta stood from her meditative state and walked barefoot over the stone floors toward the altar that had been prepared. She washed her hands in the lavender and rose water set to the side, and one by one whispered an enchantment onto the stones. As the old fae words spilled from her lips, a sparkling, blue mist floated over the stones, creating a luminary effect. Ardontis picked a small piece of coal from the altar and rubbed his fingers around it. When the stones were ready, the Faith said his own protective prayer to his gods before placing his coal-covered finger against Leonetta’s fair skin, and rubbing it between her eyebrows.
Osharus and Georges watched as the Faith moved back and prostrated, pushing his forehead against the earth in prayer. Leonetta reached out and hovered her hands over the stones, which grew brighter and brighter by the second. Just moments before they would have had to shield their eyes, the light shot up Leonetta’s arms and into her eyes. She stood motionless, her arms dangling by her sides and the light beaming from her sockets. Leonetta began to mumble a chant in fae tongue, so quickly it was hard to distinguish one word from another.
Inside of Leonetta’s mind’s eye, she could see her soul traveling across the east realms at lightning speed. As she approached the camp of the Avalon King, she slowed, and crept through the shadows, between the feet of the guards and into Osiris. Suddenly, her body became clear, and she looked around in the dark recesses of Osiris’ dreams. She moved her hands, looking for a state of consciousness, and the scene shifted in front of her. The sky was dark with storms, and the moon was shining through the broken clouds. From the wane of the moon, it looked as if the troops had set out only days from where her body stood at the altar.
She knew if she were to have the strength to approach Alfontus, she would have to move quickly with Osiris. Her body moved so fast she became only a blur of light and color. She stopped suddenly, just inches from Osiris’ face. He was looking forward upon the Cascading Seas. For a moment, Leonetta thought she may be having a vision, but she quickly realized from the ridiculous size of the army following that this was only a dream. She reached her hands out and rewinded, wanting to see his thoughts before they left. The scenery blew past her in a mist, and she stopped quickly inside the tent next to Osiris and his very large Commander.
“We leave in two days,” Osiris ordered. “We will be outside of the walls by the fourth night. There, we will camp and then, on the fifth morning, we will proceed with our attack.”
Leonetta blinked as her vision began to get fuzzy. She walked out of the tent, having the information she had come for. She stepped out onto the mossy fields and looked out toward the dead King’s mountain. Her lips began to whisper, and again her body took off at enormous speeds, heading over the hills and stopping at the edge of the ravine where lava flowed heavily. She stepped forward, using the dream to propel her toward Alfontus’ mind, as though he would not be in Osiris’ exact dream – all were connected between awake and aslee
p.
Her soul followed the trail and stopped at the edge of Alfontus’ bed before leaping into his open mouth and traveling through the dream world. Leonetta stopped abruptly and looked around. She was standing in a field again, only this one was bloodied and war-torn. She felt the presence of Alfontus and turned quickly to see him. He appeared to be staring right at Leonetta, but that couldn’t be possible; she was only a piece of her whole self.
“It’s rude to intrude on someone’s dreams,” Alfontus stated. “But I guess the fae never cared too much about social etiquette.”
A burning sensation began to muster through Leonetta’s hands as Alfontus grew closer. He seemed to float through the air, his feet not moving but his body growing closer. She blinked several times, trying to pull herself from Alfontus’ mind and back to her body, but the burning overwhelmed her.
“When will you learn, Leonetta, that your magic will never outweigh our King?” Alfontus asked, chuckling. “I shall send you away with a parting gift since you seem to like the dream world so much.”
Leonetta watched helplessly as he reached his hand toward her face. She began to pull her energy from the pit of her stomach, and Alfontus paused as white light emitted from her eyes, mouth, and skin. She screamed out as the light became blinding and then disappeared, the light collapsing in on itself. Alfontus lunged forward, but she was gone before he could touch her.
The Faith lunged forward as light shot from Leonetta, and her body went limp, falling backward into his arms. Her eyes still glowed, but as her soul returned to her chest, the light receded, and she lurched awake, gasping for air. She grabbed onto Ardontis’ robes, shaken to the core by what she just experienced. If Alfontus had grown powerful enough to stop a fae’s magic, that meant his King was beyond anything they had seen before.
“Osiris marches in two days,” Leonetta stated with no emotion, pulling herself to her feet. “The dead King, however, has pushed his powers to his subjects and thwarted my plan, sending Alfontus to meet me head-on in my dreams. I can only assume, when he reached for me, he planned to trap me in the dream world.”
“I must speak with King Ebin immediately,” Osharus spoke, fear flowing through his voice. “Send him word to meet me on the shore, and tell him he will need legs for this meeting.”
Georges bowed and rushed off toward the gates of the castle. Leonetta looked up at Ardontis, still shaken from what she had just seen. The dead King’s powers were stronger than they even dreamed, and for the first time since his arrival, Leonetta questioned their fate.
***
“Are you certain it was him?” King Ebin asked as the messenger rounded the corner in a hurry, grabbing the King’s attention. “We will discuss this later.”
The guardsman nodded his head before swimming off. Ebin swam slowly toward the messenger, fearful of what words he had to deliver. He waited patiently while the merman caught his breath, his rush even apparent in their telepathic communication.
“King Osharus requests your presence at the shore,” the messenger relayed as Ebin nodded and went to turn toward his throne. “He says it is urgent and to come as a human.”
Ebin slowly turned back toward the messenger, a frightened look on his face. Osharus had only ever asked him to meet in the middle of the night, in human form, one other time in his life, and it was when his wife had died. Whatever was going on was of grave importance, and Ebin wasted no time in swimming quickly past the messenger and off into the ocean. The guards took notice and fell into line, following him toward the shore. When he reached the breach in the ocean bed, Ebin stopped and turned toward the merman.
“From here, I go alone,” he commanded.
Ebin tapped his trident against the sandy bottom as he swam toward the shallow beaches ahead. His fishtail, covered in gleaming light, transformed into a set of legs covered by a long robe. Ebin emerged from the salty waters, spotting Georges standing on the rocky path above. He hurried out of the water, nodded to Georges, and started up the stairs to the castle. There was no need for words; Ebin already knew that this must be about the dead King and Osiris, and it couldn’t be good news. He wiped his forehead in irritation, hating the feeling of perspiration dripping from his forehead and into his long beard.
He slowed as he reached the top, his body not used to climbing stairs. Georges walked ahead of him, showing him the way into the castle. They entered the large stone building and walked into the dimly lit hallways. He had never really seen the castle beyond the Throne Room and the Great Hall. They rounded the corner and entered into the Council Room. The torches were lit, giving off quite a bit more light, and Ebin crossed over to the table and sat down in one of the chairs.
“He is on his way,” Georges said, bowing.
“Ebin,” Osharus said as he entered the room in a hurry. “We have some news. Osiris moves on us in two days. He will be at our gates in five.”
“We knew it would be soon,” Ebin replied, slightly confused. “But I feel you have more news than a small issue like Osiris. Speak plainly, brother.”
“Leonetta has been into the dream world of the dead,” Osharus whispered across from Ebin, “and they were able to interact with her.”
“What?” Ebin shouted, his eyes big as saucers. “The fae possess a power never touched by another creature. This is bad – very bad.”
“She was able to escape, but he was attempting to trap her there,” Osharus stated, shaking his head.
“The dead King tried to trap her there?” Ebin asked with amazement and fear.
“No, not the dead King. His necromancer, Alfontus,” Osharus stated.
“Even his men have become stronger than the fae,” Ebin mumbled to himself. “We must prepare. What if they arrive with Osiris?”
“Malaya has been playing Osiris for a fool,” Osharus said, standing and walking toward the window. “If he is involved, then he is the decoy.”
“Where is Picarus?” Ebin asked, looking around. “He is your Co-Commander. He should be here.”
“We have been unable to locate him tonight,” Georges said carefully. “We think he may be off in the countryside, trying to handle the abduction of his wife.”
“He is royalty,” Ebin shouted angrily. “You should have never brought him on as a Commander, Osharus.”
“He is the least of our worries,” Osharus scoffed.
“I must get back to my kingdom and prepare,” Ebin said, standing and walking toward the door. “Shall we regroup at daylight?”
Osharus waved his hand in agreement, his mind deep in memories of his last experience with the dead King. Centuries ago, he rose from a mere servant and became one of the biggest threats in all the realms. However, even then his powers did not match that of the fae. Osharus was at a loss. There was not enough time to summon the rulers from the other kingdoms since if the dead King were to strike it would be upon Osiris’ arrival. Osharus walked forward in anger, pushing all the papers and cups from the table and screaming out in rage. If Osiris had just listened they would not be in such a time crunch; they would be able to build an army.
The clouds rumbled in the background as Osharus sat down at the table. Centuries of rule may come down to this one battle. This one battle may decide the future of the realms.
Chapter Thirteen: The Creature Within
“How dare she enter my dreams?!” Alfontus bellowed. “This fae scum thinking she can find my secrets…does she know who I am?”
Alfontus paced the floor in front of Ghede, rage taking over his entire body. The dead King sat quietly contemplating the happenings inside Alfontus’ mind. He stood from his chair, kissing Malaya’s hand before rising. He walked down the stairs and stood. Alfontus turned toward Ghede, dropping to his knees in reverence when he realized the dead King was standing before him.
“There, there, Alfontus,” Ghede whispered, petting his head. “Had you been stronger we may not have had this problem in the first place, would we?”
“But, Your Grace,” Alfont
us stuttered in shock, “I am only as strong as you give me allowance. I did my best to trap her, but she was quicker than I was.”
“Stand up,” Ghede ordered.
Alfontus pulled himself from his knees and stood, his legs shaking beneath him and his eyes pointed toward the floor. Ghede placed his hand on his masked chin and walked in circles around Alfontus before returning to the steps in front of him. He snapped his fingers, and two soldiers of the dead army appeared. They flowed forward, their translucent, skeletal remains clanking as they moved. They grabbed onto Alfontus’ arms, and he looked at them in fear.
“No, please, Your Grace,” he begged.
“Oh, calm down, Alfontus. I am not going to kill you,” he stated, turning toward Malaya and bowing his head. “No, instead, I believe that you would be better used as the Commander of my forces.”
Ghede swished his hand around, emitting a black, weightless liquid. It floated toward Alfontus’ fearful face and began to twist around his body. He squirmed and cried out in fear as it began to enter in through all of his orifices. As the end covered his mouth, his screams were stifled, and the soldiers let go, moving back to watch. The liquid lifted Alfontus from the ground and twisted his shape within its elastic grasps. Slowly, it began to grow, his bones creaking and cracking beneath the gooey mass. Finally, after several moments, Alfontus’ feet touched back down on the ground, and the black liquid began to disappear.
Malaya gasped at what emerged from the dead King’s spell. Where the tall, skinny frame of a man once stood, now was overtaken by a massive beast. His shoulders were as wide as four large men, and his arms and legs were massive clubs of meat and muscle. His skin was black, and sweat beaded up and rolled down it. His face was no longer young and fair but instead, large, square, and housing a crooked jowl, two large fangs protruding upward from the bottom. The blue color of his eyes faded away, leaving dark black orbs in their place. Alfontus flexed his shoulders and looked toward the dead King, bowing in understanding.
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