“You will have all your necromancer powers,” Ghede explained, “but you will only ever be worried about answering to my commands, as we are now connected mentally. I can give you any power I wish at any moment.”
Alfontus grunted and looked down at his massive hands. He looked around the room confusingly at first, but then realized what the dead King had done. He had taken his weakness, his inability to change his outer exterior. Now he was large and powerful, the only cost being that his brain worked solely through the dead King.
“See?” Ghede said, walking over and reaching up to pat his head. “Isn’t that better?”
Alfontus nodded his head and dropped to one knee, once again, showing his thanks. Malaya looked alarmingly at her brother, not knowing how to feel about what had been done. However, knowing not to protest against Ghede, she kept her mouth closed and grasped on to the arms of her warm throne.
“Now, go along,” Ghede said, shooing him with his hands. “The troops are still in training. Go…command them.”
Ghede walked back over to the stairs and watched as the new Alfontus ogred his way out of the castle doors and out of sight. He swished his hand, disappearing the soldiers that were standing by for orders before returning to his seat. The dead King smiled to himself, brushing his hands together and reaching for Malaya’s hand. When he did not find it, as usual, he turned to her, looking at the scowl across her face.
“My lady is displeased,” Ghede said with a smirk. “My dear, remember what we are looking forward to. These things take sacrifices.”
Malaya bowed her head at the angry tone of the dead King’s voice. He stood from his throne and walked back down the steps, stopping halfway to the door. Ghede turned back toward Malaya and took in a deep breath. He sped across the floor toward her, his speed leaving a trail of black blur before reappearing in front of her. He leaned down into her face and hissed.
“If you are to be the mother of my unborn, you better start understanding that sacrifices will be made whether you like it or not,” Ghede whispered angrily. “I seem to be the only one that understands this.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Malaya responded in fear, keeping her eyes firmly shut.
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to that imbecile, Osiris?” Ghede asked as he stood and straightened his robes. “This was your idea, so you better see it through.”
“Yes, right away,” Malaya spoke as she immediately teleported, leaving only a flash of light behind her.
Ghede walked back toward the doorway and snapped his fingers, teleporting to the cliffs outside of the mountain. He looked out toward the fields blowing in the distance and cringed at the sight of the bright colors and vibrant tones. The dead King reached his hand out and shot lightning from his palms, setting the field ablaze. He looked high into the sky, his laughter echoing from the clouds and across the realms as the rain began to shower the land.
***
With a flash of light, Malaya appeared in the grove behind Osiris’ campsite. She pulled her hood up overhead and clasped the front over her almost visibly growing belly. The rain poured down over her, and she watched as the Avalon army scurried through the camp, taking cover from the storm that seemed to appear out of nowhere. However, Malaya knew exactly where the storm had come from, and the sheer power of his magic absolutely terrified her. She looked back at the lightning flashing across the sky before hurrying into the camp to find Osiris.
As Malaya entered the King’s tent, she pulled back her hood and let her hair spill out over her shoulders. Osiris looked up from his maps and nodded in recognition. Malaya wrapped one side of the cape around her and walked over next to him, looking over his shoulder at the maps. He was planning his attack on the Cascading Seas.
“We leave in two days,” the King stated, no emotion in his voice. “By the morning of the fifth day, we will be attacking. I believe it best we come in from behind, staying as far from the grasps of the merpeople as possible.”
“This hill should afford you some protection,” Malaya stated, pointing to the rolling hills behind the port. “If you come across they will meet you. They will not want you to get near the castle grounds if at all possible.”
“Agreed,” Osiris said, nodding his head. “This is where you will bring in your dead.”
“I think it should be midway through the battle. Give them the illusion that they have a chance,” Malaya said, a small smirk on her face. “Then we strike, taking the soldiers, the castles, and sending our men in to destroy the mermaid fortress.”
“You have quite a knack for battle,” Osiris said, looking back at Malaya.
“You forget that I once was royalty,” she said, smiling. “What is royalty without strategy?”
“Perhaps, if all goes well, you will find yourself royalty once again,” Osiris stated, looking Malaya up and down.
“I have always felt I was meant to rule beside greatness,” she said walking to the other side of the table and lifting one eyebrow.
“Then you shall,” he stated with a smile.
Malaya stood up and grabbed her stomach, feeling a flutter inside. The King looked strangely at her. She released, realizing she hadn’t eaten in days.
“Are you all right?” The King asked suspiciously.
“I’m fine. Just hungry, that’s all,” she replied turning pale-faced toward the door. “I'll go grab chow. It should be almost ready.”
“Make sure to get rest,” the King ordered. “I need you healthy.”
“Of course,” Malaya replied, turning and bowing to the King before walking quickly out of the tent.
Malaya stopped once outside and took in a deep breath of air. Her stomach fluttered and grumbled, but the thought of oats and berries did not appeal to her in the least. Frightened by the barbaric feeling creeping through her, she started running. She moved swiftly out of the camp and out into the hills and fields. The hunger grew stronger and stronger with every step, and as she reached the top of the hill, she leaped forward into the tall grasses below, crouching and listening. A quiet growl came from her throat as her eyes turned from blue to red. She could hear the heartbeats of every creature within her vicinity.
As if she were taken over by another force, Malaya stayed hidden, hunting whatever would quench this overwhelming feeling. Suddenly, something jumped, and Malaya turned quickly, her movements fast and sharp. She listened intently to the increasing heartbeat of something living close by and walked on all fours through the waving grasses. As the creature began to take notice of Malaya stalking it, she pounced forward, tackling the rabbit and rolling through the dirt. When she came to a stop, she bounced back to a crouching position and twisted the rabbit’s neck, ending its life. With a new sense of bloodlust and hunger, she held the rabbit in front of her, ripping into its skin with her teeth. Blood splattered across her face and into the grasses. When she had had her fill, she tossed the carcass to the side and fell back onto her butt, her eyes returning to blue and her mind returning.
Malaya looked down at the pools of blood running through her fingertips and began to cry. She placed her hand on her belly and wondered what creature was growing and moving inside of her. She had become a monster, and with each and every day, her once fragile and innocent mind turned more and more devious and unrecognizable. She heard the men from the camp begin to stir and move around as the sun breached the horizon. She pulled her cloak from her shoulders and wiped feverishly at the blood on her face and hands. Once mostly clean, she crept back around to the camp, hiding in the shadows as she made her way to her tent. Her hands shook in nervousness, and her stomach fluttered at the sight of raw meat hanging to cure at the chow tent. She kept her head down as she moved through the men.
She slipped into her tent and let out a deep breath as she tossed her cloak to the side and dipped her hands in the cool water placed in her room. As her nerves began to calm, she froze, sensing someone behind her. She was too afraid to turn, and instead stood, waiting for the guest
to speak.
“The baby grows,” Ghede’s voice stated in a calm tone. “You will find much changes as he gets bigger.”
“What are you doing here?” she whispered, pulling the flap to the doorway down for privacy.
“I could see your fear of the unknown,” he responded, looking at his nails. “I felt it only right that I comfort you. Come. Sit next to me.”
Malaya paused momentarily but then moved next to the dead King, sitting down on the blanket and pillows. He put his arm around her and pulled her head against his shoulder, rubbing her hair. She sat tensely in his embrace, now unsure of what his intentions were.
“We leave in two days,” she whispered. “We attack on the morning of the fifth day.”
“Good,” he stated. “And you remember our plan? My visions were very specific.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” she said, feeling very tired and allowing her muscles to relax.
“Excellent,” Ghede said, waving his hand over Malaya’s face. “Then, rest. It is important you have all your strength.
Malaya tried to keep her eyes open, but whatever magic the dead King had produced made her so tired. She blinked, trying to keep her eyes fixated on his face, but her vision slowly went dark. Malaya fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, while the creature growing inside her built its strength.
Chapter Fourteen: Secrets Revealed
Aralea pulled her shawl around her tightly as she stood in the garden watching Tyriad and his army arrive. The autumn wind was colder than years past, and Aralea feared winter was coming soon. The winters in the east realm varied by location, but one thing was for certain: they were all harsh and unforgiving. Snow drifts and large glaciers would form on the land and sea, making it almost impossible to travel in or out of the port, much less by foot for goods. Luckily, they had procured enough goods to last the entire winter, but Aralea still feared what this isolation could do with the dead King looking down at them from the mountain.
The soldiers piled off of the backs of the Wild Dragons that had joined the brigade, and Tyriad stood commanding them as the shifters changed back into a human and helped move the armory into the castle. As the inevitability of this war hit home with the Princess, she turned and walked to the wall where a lookout over the Fortune was carved from the stone. She watched as the waves crashed against the rocks and in the distance, the mer-army could be seen practicing their tactics. Aralea rubbed her stomach, nervous of what was to come, and decided that it was time to let her father know of the baby. If he was going to march into war alongside her husband, she needed to give them something to fight for.
She headed into the castle and walked back to where they would be starting their strategy meeting. With the Avalon army at their service, they would be able to create a more elaborate plan than once thought. Leonetta emerged from one of the rooms as Aralea passed. She locked arms with her, and they walked quietly toward the meeting. Inside, Tyriad, Georges, and the Faith all stood next to the King, waiting for Leonetta’s arrival. Osharus smiled as Aralea entered and turned toward the others.
“Now that everyone is here,” the King began.
“Father, before you begin, I would like to say something,” Aralea stated as she pushed through to stand next to Georges. Her husband looked at her strangely, but as she squeezed his hand, his eyes became big, and he looked toward the King. “With all of these talks of war and such, I thought I might bring a ray of hope. Georges and I would like to announce that we are expecting.”
“Expecting?” the King repeated the word to himself. “Oh, expecting! That is wonderful news, my dear daughter! Come here, let me see this future King.”
“Or Queen,” Aralea laughed, stepping forward and allowing her belly to finally show.
Osharus laid his hand on her stomach and closed his eyes, a warmth flooding over him. When he opened them, he looked down at Aralea with a tear in his eye. She smiled and embraced him, pressing her cheek into his chest. She pulled back as her father leaned forward and shook Georges’ hand, a smile she had not seen in years smeared across his face.
“Though we must take care of this Osiris situation, we will plan a celebration for the kingdom for after the battle,” the King announced. “With so many dark days upon us, the news of a baby is something that should bring fire back to this seaside town!”
Aralea took turns hugging and receiving congrats from everyone in the room. She turned to Leonetta who was patiently waiting for her turn. As she stepped forward, the smile faded from Leonetta’s face, and her eyes turned white. She fell backward into the chair, and Ardontis ran to her side, putting his hand up to stop the others from trying to tend to her.
“She is having a vision,” he said excitedly. “Give her some space.”
The voices from the room faded from Leonetta’s range as her vision turned to darkness. She could hear a piercing scream coming from the dark shadows. She crept forward in her vision, squinting to find her footing. Suddenly, fire erupted in front of her, and she jumped back, watching the dead King rise from the darkness, hovering in the air. In his right hand, he held the sword of the east realms high into the air, and in his other hand was the severed head of the mer-Prince, Pike. Leonetta closed her eyes, knowing she wasn’t safe in her vision and pushed herself back to the living. She grabbed on to Ardontis’ sleeve and looked at him suspiciously.
“I must see Pike. Bring him here immediately,” she said frantically.
“I’m sorry, but we still have not seen him,” Georges said.
“Nor will you,” Tyriad said loudly, stepping forward. “He has gone on a journey to seek out his bride.”
“What?! I told him it was not wise,” Leonetta said, standing. “And he has the east realm sword in his possession.”
“It has been lost for centuries. Where did he find it?” King Osharus questioned with concern.
“I don’t know,” Leonetta responded. “But from my vision, he won’t keep it for long.”
“We must stay focused on the events occurring just days from now,” the King said thoughtfully. “We will handle this Pike situation once we have disposed of Osiris.”
Leonetta nodded in agreeance.
“Dear Leonetta, go and rest. We will fill you when we are done,” the King said, turning back to Leonetta’s pale face. “Ardontis, see that she rests.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Ardontis said, helping Leonetta from the chair and out of the room.
Holding Leonetta’s arm, Ardontis walked, quietly down the hall. They turned the corners, smiling at passing servants. Ardontis opened her chamber doors and helped her inside, letting go to turn and close the door behind them. As he turned back, Leonetta pushed him hard against the wooden door, holding her shimmering, metal blade to his throat.
“What have you done?” she said angrily. “You have given the dead King everything he has been looking for.”
“Do you think I would hand over the sword if I thought he would lose?” Ardontis scoffed, pushing the knife down. “You have had faith in me this entire time, and I have yet to betray that trust.”
“What am I supposed to think when you are sending a boy after the dead King?” Leonetta hissed, still holding the Faith against the door. “It seems like there are other motives here.”
“There are no other motives,” Ardontis stated calmly. “Everything I do is planned and executed with the utmost care and understanding. You need to gather your emotions and remember who it was that helped you bring Osiris to his knees in the first place.”
Leonetta looked deep into Ardontis’ eyes, searching for the separation of truth and lies. She slowly lowered her dagger and slipped it into the sheath at her side. She pulled her arm from his chest, letting him free from her hold.
“Pike, in his current condition, is a liability to us all,” Ardontis whispered as he straightened his gown. “Can you imagine what would happen if he were fighting Osiris and the dead King showed up? He would start an international incident on the spot. Instead, he is
traveling, by foot nonetheless, toward the mountains. By the time the battle is over, we can send a shifter to force him back to the castle.”
“So, he will never actually reach the mountain? Then why so many visions?” Leonetta asked, rubbing her temples.
“Your visions are driven by intention, my dear,” Ardontis stated, walking over to her and taking her cloak from her shoulders. “His intention is to make it to the mountains.”
“Unaware of your plans. I understand now,” Leonetta responded, turning to Ardontis. “Forgive me, Your Faith.”
“There is no need for apologies. You were protecting your realm,” Ardontis responded. “Something only a Queen would do.”
“I am going to rest,” Leonetta said, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “The King is right; I need to rest.”
Ardontis nodded his head with a comforting smile before exiting Leonetta’s chambers. She laid there, listening as his shoes shuffled down the halls and out of earshot. Leonetta laid there a moment longer before walking to the door and peering out into the corridor. She grabbed her cloak with no sign of anyone lurking about and headed through the castle and down the steep stairs into the dungeon. As she stood threatening her Faith’s life, she realized just how out of control she had gotten. Her thirst for revenge against Osiris and the anger that she sensed coming from the dead King had taken over her mind like a plague.
She tiptoed quietly down the dark passageway, watching as water dripped from the ceilings. Leonetta felt as if she were walking through a cave and hoped that one day she could enter the dungeons without visions of the dead Avalon soldier she found marks before flashing through her mind. She smiled at the guard outside of Holland’s room, and the guard opened the door, bowed, and left them to their privacy.
War of the Realms Box Set Page 34