War of the Realms Box Set

by Sarah J. Stone

  Pike glared at the witch but saw the truth in her scared eyes. He took the small satchel from her and placed it inside his cloak. She smiled and nodded as he turned to walk back.

  “And Pike,” she yelled out, “all these powers are inside you. They are just waiting for you to understand. Remember, though your soul was created by the gods, your heart is your own. Use it, as it will be your greatest weapon.”

  Pike nodded before disappearing into the trees. They started running and did not stop until they reached the edge of the wood line. Before Pike could step out into the light, Drue pulled him back, nodding toward the sky. Above them, several bright red dragons with the mark of the Dead King clinging to their scales flew overhead toward the witch’s home. They listened as explosions rocked the trees and the sound of a young woman’s screams echoed through. Pike winced, knowing another life had been taken because of his own needs.

  “You could not have saved her,” Drue said, patting Pike’s shoulder.

  “I think it wise we walk the tree line into Lisborn,” Pike said with no feeling in his thoughts. “Once we get there, we should be safe to walk among the others. We will sleep there tonight and then plan the rest of our journey toward Pero Peaks.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Drue said, knowing not to fight him on this.

  As Pike walked along silently, he played the tune from the witch over and over again in his head. If he were not made by his father and mother, then why was he the next mer-king? Why had no one ever told him of the powers hidden in his father’s staff? And why would his mother give her soul and song to the gods? All of these questions seemed to be nothing more than pointless riddles, and Pike wondered if they were even the truth. He looked up at the clouds, wondering where Leonetta was and why she had not heard him enter into the witch’s lair. He needed her now for answers, but he was not sure how to contact her.

  When they reached the gates of Lisborn, Pike went to move his wolf pelt underneath his cloak, knowing the sight of it would raise questions. However, as he placed his hand on the fur, a glow came over it, and the white fur turned brown. It now looked like any old fur cloak, and he realized the magic inside of it knew he needed cover. He shook his head, blown away from the knowledge of the day. They checked into a room at the local hostel, and as Drue collapsed into the bed, Pike went out into the town to find a pint and his thoughts. There was a local pub just a few doors down, and he walked in, keeping his head low and his posture tight. He grabbed a cup of mead and sat in the corner under the cloak of darkness, thinking about his day and wondering how to muster the magic to call Leonetta.

  Pike had pulled his hood up and sat with his face down toward the table. He picked his cup up and put it to his lips, the taste of the alcohol calming his nerves. As he drank, he felt a small hand touch his, and he looked up in alarm.

  “You called?” Leonetta sat cloaked in an old brown shawl and hood, smiling back with her gleaming, almost white eyes.

  “Are you really here?”

  “We arrived just moments ago, and I saw you leave the hostel. The others are with Drue right now,” she explained kindly. “You saw the witch.”

  Pike looked up at her, wondering how she could know but followed her eyes to the torn cloth on his palm. He shook his head yes and watched as she picked up his hand and pulled it toward her. Without words, she undid the bloody rag and ran her fingers over the wound. Pike flinched as her magic seeped into the dirty cut and began to heal it from the inside out. When she was done, he lifted his hand and flexed his fingers, still not used to such magic.

  “Thank you,” Pike said under his voice.

  “I cannot answer the questions you have,” Leonetta interrupted, “but you will figure them out sooner than later.”

  “Why does this need to be such a secret?” Pike grumbled angrily.

  “All the greatest things are secrets,” Leonetta said with a smile. “Come, let’s meet the others. I have brought food and someone for you to meet.”

  Pike nodded his head and took the last gulp from his cup before rising and following the fae princess from the pub. As they moved, it was almost as if no one around them could see their bodies. Pike stopped and looked around curiously.

  “They cannot see you,” Leonetta said calmly. “Your cloak covered you after you grabbed that cup of mead, as it sensed danger.”

  “What danger?” Pike reached down toward the sword.

  “No real danger,” Leonetta said, holding up her hand. “But the cloak cannot feel where it is coming from. Surely, a pub full of robbers and thieves would trigger it.”

  Pike nodded and continued forward, still in awe at the wolf pelt’s intuitive nature. They crossed the dirty streets of Lisborn and entered back into the hostel. Leonetta smiled kindly at the man behind the desk, and he swooned, almost as if he were under some kind of spell. Pike chuckled slightly at the man’s reaction and wondered why he, himself, did not fall for the glamor of the fae’s beauty.

  “Because you are not a human,” Leonetta chuckled, reading Pike’s thoughts. “You are different. Unlike any creature to ever walk these lands.”

  “I don’t feel different, I feel like an orphaned child,” he grumbled back.

  As they entered the room, Ardontis and Drue stood, bowing to both Leonetta and Pike. Pike took in a deep breath as his furs turned back to white in the presence of safety. Pike closed the door and turned to his right, freezing in motion as his eyes stopped on the young girl sitting at the desk, drawing. He felt the strangest feeling in his chest, almost as if he wanted to scoop the girl up and protect her from any harm that came her way.

  “Pike, this is Helena,” Leonetta said, smiling. “Helena, this is the Great Wolf King, Pike.”

  At that moment, Pike knew exactly what the witch had meant.

  Chapter Twelve: Roots of Deceit

  Asphodul closed her eyes and whispered an enchantment, her hands floating carefully across her stones. The cold wind crept through the cracks in the window’s glass, pushing the flames of the fire in the hearth higher and stronger. As she dove into the spell, Asphodul whispered her sister’s name and waited for any signs. Again, just as it was the last three times she attempted the spell, she saw a broken stone flash before her eyes before the enchantment fell from her mind. Asphodul dropped her hands in frustration and walked over to the window, looking out at the cold frost-laden forest beyond the gorge. She couldn’t figure out why her spells weren’t working.

  Asphodul turned and grabbed her coat, deciding a walk through the garden might help her. However, as she locked her bedroom door and looked down the shadowy hall, she decided that maybe a visit to her sister’s chambers would be better. She walked slowly through the marble halls, magically waving a pair of fur-lined boots to her feet. It was cold, and even the fae weren’t immune to the chill. She rounded the corner, nodding at several staff members who stared at her with confusion before bowing and scurrying off down the hall. When she reached her sister’s chambers, she pushed the door open and looked around.

  The room had not yet been touched by the staff, and her sheets and blankets still lay crumpled on the bed. All of her belongings were gone, and Asphodul walked over, rubbing her hand down the silken robe she had made for Leonetta when she had first arrived. She could still smell Leonetta’s scent of lavender and patchouli on the fabric, and it brought a stillness to her heart. She turned and walked over to the window, looking out at the Wild that was bedded down for the evening, enjoying their night meal and letting the cold air wash over their shimmering scales. Asphodul was almost surprised to see them still there, as she was never sure whether their allegiance fell with the fae or Leonetta.

  Feeling lost in her attempts, Asphodul turned to walk toward the door. As she passed the desk, she looked down at the family jewelry box that had been gifted to her sister. It was sitting open, and all of the fae family jewels were sitting inside, glimmering in their pockets. She had left everything fae behind, including her own
identity. As Asphodul closed the case, she looked down at a broken stone laying on the table. She picked it up and held it in front of her face. It was the charm that connected the sisters, but instead of being shimmering and blue, it was now faded and broken. Asphodul shook her head, realizing this was the reason she could not find her sister. While other fae, like Leonetta, were able to sense their family’s whereabouts and dangers, Asphodul was never very good at it and relied on the stones she enchanted to keep watch. Asphodul grasped the stone in her hand and turned toward the door at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

  “Margerie,” Asphodul said, looking at the head staff woman. “What can I do for you?

  “I was wondering if you had a spare shifter to possibly send out in search of a young girl that was under our care?” Margerie looked nervous, and her hands were grasped together at her waist.

  “She has gone missing?”

  “Yes, Your Grace, last night,” Margerie stated. “Her parents are dead, and she was left here in our care.”

  “Of course,” Asphodul stated, turning back to the desk. “Tell my Lord, King Tyriad, that I have requested it so.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” Margerie said, turning from the doorway.

  Asphodul looked up, curious of something. “Margerie,” she called out, stopping the woman. “Where was the girl last seen?”

  “One of the gardeners saw her walking with Princess Leonetta last night,” she replied. “But they didn’t think much of it. We haven’t seen her since.”

  “With Princess Leonetta?” Asphodul scrunched her forehead.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “How peculiar,” Asphodul said under her breath.

  “Your Grace?”

  “It’s just that Princess Leonetta left last night, too,” Asphodul responded. “Strange. But nonetheless, have the king send a shifter to search the grounds. I am sure she just wandered off absentmindedly.”

  “Thank you,” Margerie bowed.

  “And please let me know when you find her,” Asphodul replied.

  “Will do, Your Grace,” Margerie replied before disappearing around the corner.

  Asphodul walked forward and stood in the doorway, watching Margerie hurry down the hall to another group of staff. Was it just a coincidence that this young girl disappeared at the same time as Leonetta? Asphodul shook her head, not sure of what the princess would want with a young staff girl. She pushed the thought from her mind and tossed the broken stone back onto the desk before turning and leaving the room. She closed the door and locked it behind her, not sure if she was ready for the staff to clean it and return it to a guest room in the castle. Asphodul had a great many attributes, but one of her faults was the inability to let people go that she cared about.

  The queen moved through the castle, unaware as people passed by her. She strolled out onto the balcony and down into the enchanted garden. It was no longer summer, and the flowers did not match the frosty air outside. Asphodul rubbed her hands together and pushed a slow purple mist over the garden. As the mist covered each bloom, they began to transform into fall foliage, from brightly-hued trees to greener year-round shrubbery with orange, yellow, and red blooms. She stood back and smiled at her handiwork, feeling a bit more like herself.

  Up on the balcony behind her, Tyriad stood watching down at his queen as she smiled lightly at the flowers. He thought about his love for Asphodul, and a feeling of guilt crept into his chest. He knew she had been thrown into this place as queen way too fast and that her decisions, though kind and loving, were not what was best for this kingdom. Tyriad didn’t want to be the King of the Vale and make all the choices, but he knew when he took Asphodul’s hand that was something he would need to be prepared for. He sighed and took a step forward, considering going out in the garden and comforting his wife. As the cold wind hit him in the face, he could feel a hand on his arm. He looked back at General Ames, who stood waiting for Tyriad’s response.

  “The meeting!” Tyriad said, remembering he had called a meeting in the council room. “Yes, my apologies.”

  “I can have them wait if you are busy,” Ames said looking down at Asphodul.

  “No,” Tyriad replied turning toward the castle, “this is more important.”

  The two men walked from the balcony and went deep into the castle. The soldiers awaiting the king stood as Tyriad and Ames entered, bowing to the king in reverence. Tyriad motioned for the men to sit as he poured a glass of wine and took his seat at the head of the table. Tyriad nodded to Ames to begin.

  “As of now, we know that Pero Peaks is surrounded by the Dead Army,” Ames began as he motioned toward the map in the center of the table. “Coming in from the back is not an option, and we are sure no matter where we come from, Ghede will sense our presence. In my honest opinion, I believe it may be the right path just to come straight in, full force.”

  “That is a big bet to wager,” Tyriad said, looking up at Ames. “What does everyone else think?”

  Looks were exchanged quickly as if the men were a row of dominoes falling to defeat. The army’s medical lead looked up, his face showing caution before he spoke. He cleared his throat and leaned forward.

  “Perhaps we should wait for allies,” the man said with a quivering voice.

  “The only realms left are small, and their armies would perish in the first thirty seconds. They need those men to protect their borders,” Tyriad responded with irritation. “Come on, people. We have the strongest army in the world, and all we have is ‘let’s march straight into the belly of the beast?’”

  “With all due respect, Your Grace, there aren’t a lot of options. Ghede is too smart to be coerced from behind the sanctity of his kingdom’s walls,” Ames said with caution.

  “That is not a kingdom!” Tyriad yelled. “He has taken home to some dingy, dirty mountain and is calling it a kingdom. There is no Dead Kingdom in the west realms, and you will do good to remember that. He is an intruder on our lands, pushing to take our people and our food. He is nothing without his little mountain, and that mountain is what we will attack.”

  Tyriad stood and walked over to the map, putting both hands down on the table and staring down at the paths around the castle. There were dips and wells of liquid fire surrounding the holdout, but that would not stop the fae army from reaching the Dead King. Tyriad grabbed a piece of chalk and drew a big circle around the steeple of the mountain.

  “Here,” he tapped. “We must begin to scramble his home before we bring our forces in. The shifters will attack the highest points, bringing the mountain down on itself. These creatures may be strong and powerful, but they are not immortal. Remember that our forces are just a distraction,” Tyriad pointed out. “We all know where the true danger lies: the belly of the Dead Queen. Ghede has put a large part of his powers into that woman and that child. If Leonetta’s plans are true to heart, she will be providing us with the fall of the king without even realizing. Then, once he has fallen, we seize the castle and the Wolf King. Simple.”

  “I don’t believe that fooling the princess is simple,” Ames argued. “And we don’t even know if that is what her plan entails.”

  “I know the princess better than she realizes,” Tyriad growled. “She is looking to take the mountain and move on from there. She knew that only the Wolf King and his bride, who is encapsulated in the Dead King’s lair, can bring about the end of the king, queen, and their baby. We are just sitting back and allowing them to do so, ready to capture them when they have completed the job.”

  “I think we are missing something, Your Grace. How can Pike’s bride be the answer? She is just a mere human with no training,” Ames protested.

  “That is not our concern; it was in the prophecy. Unless there is some magical new woman floating around, then Pike’s bride is who we are counting on,” Tyriad responded, walking over to the window.

  The sky was dark gray as an approaching storm rumbled in the background. The au
tumn leaves were fading fast under the cold frost of the approaching winter. Soon, the ground would be covered in snow and ice, and the Dead King would hold the advantage. Tyriad knew he could not let that happen; he knew that he could not allow the fae to fail at this venture, no matter what they had to do. Leonetta was out there somewhere planning their attack on Pero Peaks, and Tyriad understood that in order to make this work he would have to use her love for her sister as a crutch.

  The waves of deceit were just starting to approach, and only time would tell just how deep they went.

  Chapter Thirteen: The Beads of the Dead

  Pike pulled his cloak up on his neck, feeling the cold air attempt to break the warmth of his wolf fur. The day was cloudy but full of energy as he sat next to Ardontis, watching as Leonetta taught Helena some of her magic. Pike tried to push the overwhelming feeling of his protective nature toward Helena from his mind, but between that and the prophecy in which the witch spoke, he couldn’t help but wonder if his wife was dead or alive. All he could do for now was give in to the urge to protect Helena and allow her to train for whatever Leonetta had in mind.

  Leonetta squatted down in front of Helena and took her hands in hers. She looked deep into the girl’s breathtaking eyes and smiled comfortingly. Helena was nervous and didn’t understand what they were doing out in the fields beyond Lisborn. She was wrapped tightly in her new woolen cloak, and her hair flapped vibrantly in the wind. She was the first fae Leonetta had ever seen with such dark locks.

  “Helena,” Leonetta said, speaking softly, “you are a very special girl. A girl with powers stronger than even my own lingering in your breast. I am here to help you develop those powers and become stronger and more powerful than any fae has ever been.”

  “I don’t understand,” she responded. Her voice was a bit deeper than just a week before, and her features were starting to mature at a rapid pace. She had grown such that it was almost uncomfortable for Leonetta to kneel down in front of her. “Where did I get these powers? My mother and father…they had normal fae gifts.”