Dark Fate: The Gathering (The Dark Fate Chronicles Book 1) (10 page)

As Arece rounded a corner at the base of the stairwell, strong hands took hold of her and pulled her into a dark chamber off the small hallway.

Arece tried to scream and clawed for the door as the light reduced to a sliver and then vanished. The hand over her mouth was incredibly strong but it did not squeeze hard enough to cause pain. She bit down savagely on the meaty hand and threw her elbow back in an upward arc to hopefully catch her assailant in the face.

A deep grunt sounded as her elbow connected with something soft. The arms dropped her and she began to scramble away. “Arece! Stop, dammit. It’s me!”

Arece staggered to a halt once she recognized the voice. She turned slowly, breathing deeply. The panic gave way abruptly to anger, and she growled through clenched teeth, “You stupid, bloody fool! You scared me to death... and what if someone had seen you?”

Arece’s eyes began to adjust to the gloom, and she could begin to make out the broad shoulders and thick arms of Bale, captain of the castle guard and bodyguard to the royal family of Pelos. He crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat and pressed his lips to hers roughly, pushing her against the door in the process.

Arece could taste blood in her mouth from the split lip she had given him. In spite of her anger, her body responded as his kiss became more intense. Still angry, she shoved him off and hissed, “You’ll get us both killed! We’ve spoken of this before. No more until my daughters are settled in Basinia!” Arece took a deep, calming breath, attempting to master herself.

“Forgive me, My Queen. I can’t keep you from my mind.” Bale’s voice came in a strained whisper. He stepped closer and placed his hand on the door, then leaned in to smell her hair.

His breath on her neck made Arece’s skin tingle in anticipation, and she stepped around his large frame into the room. “Enough, Bale! I command it!” She couldn’t afford to lose control of her emotions with Bale. Every part of her yearned for the warmth of his touch; it was maddening. “We should never have begun this affair in the first place. By Eos, what was I thinking?”

“How could you say such a thing?” Bale stepped away from the door but kept his distance. “The king is a cold man, My Queen. You deserve more than that. Better than that. What we have together is
real
!”

Guilt washed over her like a mudslide. “Deserving has little to do with it. I’ve allowed myself this selfish escape.” She held up a hand to forestall his protest. “No matter how real it feels. What I should be tending to is the kingdom, and my daughters.”

Bale shook his head. “You blame yourself for the princesses’ troubles needlessly. They make their own decisions now, and have for some time.”

Arece laughed but there was no mirth in it. “You call exile and an arranged marriage ‘choices’? You have a twisted sense of free will.”

Bale folded his arms across his broad chest. “You confuse responsibility with choice. They were taught what was to be expected of them. It was Sacha’s
choice
to run. Sloane has
chosen
to handle her responsibilities with much more dignity. You cannot blame yourself, nor take credit for their actions. They took what you gave them and acted according to their personalities.”

Arece snorted softly. “Oh, if it were only so simple. I
knew
Sacha would run, I knew it from when she was very young. She’s too much like I was, always wanting a happy ending”—her voice quavered softly—“and I did nothing to stifle those foolish, unrealistic dreams.”

“You would’ve broken her if you had done so.”

“Is she not broken now? Stripped of love, dignity, and... pride.” Arece had almost said “child,” which would have been a most grievous error. Apart from Sacha and herself, the mages were the only ones who knew of Sacha’s child. If the king were to find out, her grandchild’s life would be forfeit, and quite possibly Sacha’s as well. She felt she could trust Bale with her life, and indeed had already done so, but the fewer people who knew, the fewer roads available for the truth to travel.

Bale countered, “No, I don’t believe so. I spoke with Sacha briefly upon her arrival, and if anything, she has become stronger. She reminded me of the king, actually.” He leaned against one of the high-backed chairs scattered about the room.

“Wonderful.” Arece threw a hand into the air. “The one person I
truly
wanted her to take after.” She shook her head and sat down on one of the plush chairs in defeat. The thought that Sacha might come to emulate the model of Hathorn and his icy reserve horrified Arece.

Bale shrugged. “Better that than broken.”

The words rang in her head and Arece’s first inclination was to agree with them, but she had other hopes for her daughter and they did not include her loss of soul. “No, I will not let Sacha become like her father. You must do something for me.”

“Anything.”

The lack of hesitation in Bale’s reply warmed her heart. Her next words came with more confidence as the idea solidified. “I need you to go to Basinia with my daughters. You must keep them safe.”

“You know I would do anything for you, and not just because you are my queen. But leaving your side wasn’t what I had in mind.” He stepped around the chair and slowly walked toward her.

She knew Bale wouldn’t like his part in her plan, but it was the wisest course of action. He was the only one Arece fully trusted, and she needed the space his absence would give her. She would be able to rest with some measure of confidence in her daughter’s safety and decide what to do about her and Bale’s relationship. “There is more,” she continued as he came to kneel beside her.

Arece slowly stroked his finely cut beard and looked deep into his fiery brown eyes. “There was a man, a noble, who came here from Basinia several years ago. For the salt and grain trade agreement. Do you remember him?”

Bale furrowed his brow and slowly nodded. “I spoke with this man. Yes, I remember him.”

“His name is Sir Banlor Graves.” Her voice picked up speed as her confidence became resolve. “You must meet with him on my behalf to set up a liaison for Sacha. It is time to find a match for her, as was done for her sister.”

“I understand.” Bale smiled slightly. He looked away for a moment, the smile fading into a frown. “And what of us?”

“What of us, Bale?” Arece asked in return, letting out a long breath. “You know as well as I there is no place we can go where
he
would not find us. How long can our secret remain
our
secret? It’s only a matter of time...” She let the words fade. It was too frightening a thought for her to finish.

“So you would end it?” he asked, still not looking at her.

The words bit deep, more than she believed they could. Arece had been pondering breaking off the affair for some time, but each time she considered it, her heart quailed, and she found herself more enthralled with the man. This growing infatuation was reason enough to end the dangerous bond as quickly as possible, but the lack of anything remotely resembling human connection that waited for her in her own relationship kept her from action. And then there was the terrifying possibility that she might love this man. “I... Bale, I don’t want to, but...” Words simply lacked any semblance of adequacy. Arece shook her head in frustration.

Bale laid his large, calloused hands over hers. “I can find a way for us to be together, just give me more time.”

“You will help my daughters? You will go to Waterfall Citadel with them?”

“I will. For you.”

Sacha and Sloane had to come first. Once her daughters were safe in Waterfall Citadel, she could risk a real attempt at a life with someone she might actually love. But not before. “Find our escape, Bale. I will wait for you.”

He smiled deeply, brought her hands to his lips, and kissed them softly. “I will not fail.”

She flushed at the gesture, and it dawned on her that this might be her last chance to embrace the warmth of her lover. Arece looked into his eyes to see the same hunger she felt in her heart, and she let go of her trepidation one last time. “Lock the door.”

B
IRDS
glided beneath him. Their wings were sprinkled with dark blues, bright, metallic yellows, and teal. They soared in effortless patterns along the jagged cliffs of Mountain Wall, just above the brilliant green canopy of the Winewood.

How easy it would be to lose himself in the splendor of the crisp mountain air and the expansive view that lay before him. From his vantage, Teacher could see miles of the giant wood below. Low-hanging clouds could be touched if he were to fly a bit higher, but instead he dove to skim the canopy of the never-ending sea of green.

Teacher hugged the profile of the jagged cliff while keeping one eye out for shadows on the canopy below him. The mountains were too high to pass over, and the winged predators that made the soaring basalt their home were certainly large enough to consider one elderly wizard an admirable meal. He would never forget a recent trip when he was startled by the plunging form of a Grahl as it tore a rock goose from the sky, scattering its migratory companions and loosening his own bowel. It was likely he would have been the target of the hunt had it not been for the goose’s more familiar form; the wingspan of an adult rock goose was well in excess of eight feet. There had been no warning, just a flash of red, and then floating feathers and honking geese. It would have been safer to circle the mountains along the oceanic route, but once again, he found speed dictated his action rather than safety. Using the treacherous Ice Lakes pass and skirting Mountain Wall’s ridge was the most direct path, and so, with trepidation, he once again quested forth.

Despite Sacha’s subdued response to his news of a forthcoming reunion with her child, Teacher was convinced it was the best thing for her. He looked forward to giving his pupil some peace of mind, at least, in this one thing. He was keenly aware that the past two years had been difficult for her, so he was willing to travel the more dangerous course and retrieve her child with the greatest speed possible.

Regardless of the potential danger, he found certain thoughts hard to set aside. Primary amongst them were the haunting lines of the ancient texts that spurred his rush in Sacha’s training, and the potential implications should he fail in preparing her for the challenges she might face.

two and two, eyes of blue

end of the world, close in view

Teacher curled his lip in disgust as he reflected on the doggerel line.
Why must prophecy always be so obscure?

Shrouded in mystery, the texts might well be, but the long years in the Monastery had trained him for certain responsibilities, regardless of his frustrations. Responsibilities such as taking care of and guiding the prophesied youth who might yet save the world. Who that person would be, how they might achieve such a feat, and when the saving would occur was less than clear. What
had
been made clear was that only this savior had the capacity to do so, and he or she would ultimately fail if not taught the ways of the Shamonrae.

He remembered well the tension at the monastery many years ago upon the death of his predecessor
and
the pupil they believed to be the savior when they thought the end was nigh. How does one face an apocalyptic vision when the key has been lost?

A flock of snow-white birds burst from the canopy in a flurry of flapping wings and screeches as he flew near them, wrenching his attention back to the present. Teacher spun to face the sky, hands raised in anticipation of an attack, only to find nothing but puffy white clouds suspended in the vast blue. He let out a deep breath and shook his head. “Keep sharp, or you’ll regret it,” he said aloud, in an attempt to give his thought more weight.

Teacher took note of the position of the sun as it began its descent toward the canopy of the Winewood and knew being airborne in the dark in this part of the world would be inviting death. Spinning back to face the forest canopy below, he tapped the arcane power within him and willed the air currents around his body to flow at greater speed. He was propelled forward at such a pace that his skin was pushed taut around his jaw and cheekbones. He adjusted the large leather and crystal goggles that protected his eyes from stray insects and debris that might otherwise blind him. Teacher smiled.
Truly essential gear for flying
.