In the Shadow of the Dragon King (27 page)

“Then she stays, or she goes. At least she knows what you both face.”

“But what if I don’t want her to stay? I could never, ever make her go through another day like she did today. I’m surprised she’s not flipping out and having nightmares right now. You have no idea how hard it’s been for her, losing her brother. She hates war and death. Today, you made her look at it up close and personal. I’m not stupid. I know there’ll be more. I can’t let that happen. I have to get her home.”

“Don’t you think that should be her decision?”

“No. I have to make sure she’s safe and has everything in life she deserves, someone who will care for her and protect her.”

Trog scratched his chin. “What if that person is you?”

“It’s not me. Trust me.”

“What makes you sure?”

David chuckled. “Did you not see what happened today? While you and Agimesh and Taccar were defending us, I stood there like a moron, my feet planted in the ground like a tree. I couldn’t do anything to protect her. What kind of guy am I if I can’t defend the girl I love? What if we find ourselves in that position again, and no one else is around to fight off the bad guys? What then?” He paused for a moment, calmed his breathing. “Slavandria told me I may have to kill people. That test came today, and I did nothing. Nothing!” He turned away, his gaze on the town. “No. She deserves better than me than this. She needs to go home to her family, where she’ll be safe, where she’ll have all the comforts she’s used to. Somewhere she can find someone who isn’t afraid to care for and shelter her.”

“Don’t you think you’re being rather harsh on yourself?”

David glowered at the knight. “Don’t you think you’ve asked enough questions? I’ve made up my mind, and I’d appreciate it if you would respect that.” He turned to go inside.

“Gallantry does not include choosing another’s destiny,” Trog said.

“Stop it!” David spun around, his jaw hardened, his stomach clenched along with his fists. “You don’t know anything about her or me!”

Trog folded his arms across his chest, his eyes sharp and focused. “I know she’s a free spirit, and you’re a configuration of worry and self-doubt.” His voice softened, but his tone still held an edge. “You let pride and fear guide you. You let them make your decisions. If you don’t learn to conquer both, they will cost you not only the girl you love but your life.” Trog walked toward him and laid a firm hand on David’s shoulder. “Stop feeling so hell-bent on protecting her and let her make up her mind. She is much stronger than you think, as are you.” He removed his hand. “I’m turning in. I suggest you do the same. We have a long trek ahead of us in the morning.”

Trog opened the doors. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but it didn’t come from the sky. His face tightened, turning all warrior-like. He pointed to the balcony floor. “Get down!”

“Why? What is it?” David squatted, his heart thumping madly.

“Trouble would be my first guess.” Trog knelt behind the railing.

The sound of hooves beating the ground and men shouting, drew closer. Lanterns across the square flared to life. Downstairs, the door of the inn opened. The innkeeper, dressed in a sleeping gown, stepped into view, his lantern flickering warm and golden in the dark. Moments later, the horde arrived, thirty or more horses, black as crows, draped in purple fabric, their riders angular and broad. They dismounted and tethered their horses. Purple-gold bandannas hid their hair. Tattoos stained their faces. Hooped earrings glistened in the moonlight while swords and daggers hung from hip and horse.

David gulped his limbs an earthquake of shattered nerves. “They look the same as the guys on the road today. Who are they?”

Proprietors from several inns made their way into the street and addressed the men.

“Dalvarian rebels,” Trog said, “and the men we came upon today on the road were part of that group, soldiers who no longer hold allegiance to the kingdom of Dalvar or its king. They are dangerous.”

“What do you think they want?”

“Blood. War. Revenge. I know their type. There is only one side they would ally with in a skirmish, and it won’t be Hirth.”

A wave of intensity caught in David’s chest. His heart fluttered like a hummingbird in flight. “You don’t mean Einar, do you?”

Trog nodded. “Aye, I do. I’ve seen this before. It is not the first time the Dragon King has gathered an army.” Trog bopped David on the arm. “Let’s try to get some sleep. We need to leave before daybreak if we’ll have any chance of avoiding them.”

David nodded, but he could tell by the tone of Trog’s voice, and the knight’s deadly stance, that at least one of them would be getting little sleep tonight.

***

David tossed and turned. Slavandria appeared in the dark corners of his mind, her voice soothing. Tempting.

Come, David. I need you to wake and come to me. I must speak to you right away. It’s a matter of great importance to you.

What? What is it?

I need you to wake. I need you to come to the Elthorian manor, now.
Her voice called to him like a fresh baked cinnamon bun, warm, enticing. Irresistible.
Hurry.

David opened his eyes and sat up. Charlotte and Trog were crashed out in their beds. Moonlight streamed through the louvered door. The room was quiet, too quiet. Sleep tugged at his mind, and he lay back down, eyes closed.

David, wake up! Come to me, now!

David rubbed his eyes. “What the hell,” he muttered as he stumbled into his clothes and boots. Still groggy, he stood, took one look at his roommates and with an image of the Elthorian terrace pictured in his mind, he whispered, “
Accelero Silentium
.”

He shot across space and time at a thousand miles an hour. The terrace came into view, then—

Snatch!

A pale hand dragged him into a caliginous void.

Swirling.

Diving.

Slavandria screeched his name, her voice gripped in tortured pain.

Crazy laughter echoed in the dark. A woman cackled.

Downward.

Spiraling.

Dizziness.

Stomach turning sick.

Oof!

Air pushed from his lungs as leaves, twigs, and moist earth plowed into him. Gasping, he rolled on his back and pounded his chest until he steadied his breathing.

He swallowed and forced himself to remain still.
I’m alive. I’m breathing. I’m okay.

He lolled his head to one side and scanned the forest glade. Long, thin threads of silver light slithered along the ground toward him. Were the vines moving?

David swallowed, his eyes splayed wide open.

The strands slunk around him, pulling, tugging.

“No! Get off!” He smacked and kicked.

Through his legs and around his arms they wove, binding, constricting. His breath hitched as they lifted him from the ground and slammed him against a tree.

David struggled against his bonds, anger slowly taking over his panic. “What are you doing, Slavandria? This isn’t funny.”

“Oh, that depends on who’s watching.”

David jerked his head toward the male voice, his heart skipping all over the place. There was no doubt who it belonged to.

The shadow man from his dreams.

He was a slender man with golden skin, white hair, and piercing turquoise eyes that glistened far too bright for the darkness. He sat cross-legged on a tree stump, curtailing threads that dangled from the hem of his black cloak. Every finger possessed a silver ring. A round, black stone dangled from a leather cord around his neck. Behind him, a tall, willowy woman stood, dressed in a gown of spruce-green velvet. Long, shimmering, black hair tipped in white draped over her waxen shoulders to her waist, a look of satisfaction upon her face.

“My love, may I please
have a few minutes alone with him?” she begged. “It would bring me great pleasure to torment him.”

The man chuckled. “It sounds devilishly tempting, Avida, but tonight this morsel belongs to me. Is that not right, Your Grace?”

David’s heart sank to his stomach as he followed the man’s gaze. Two trees to his right, Slavandria struggled against magical constraints.

“Release me, Seyekrad,” she said. “You gave me your word this would be a meeting of peace—a meeting to discuss the safety of the realm. Just what do you think you will gain by this outward display of malcontent?”

With a damnable chuckle, Seyekrad unfurled his long legs and eased from the elm perch. He passed by David before moving beside her. She cringed as his long fingers wove through her hair.

“Why, Slavandria,” he drawled, “I thought it would be rather evident. You had something I wanted.” His fingers brushed her bare shoulder. He stroked her cheek and leaned in, his lips close to her ear. “And now I have him.”

David closed his eyes, his heart thump, thump, thumping in his chest.
This is a dream. Wake up. Wake up.

The man laughed loud and hearty. “Oh, no, dear boy. This is no dream.” He snapped his fingers. “Open your eyes and look at me!”

David’s lids sprang apart against his will, his gaze riveted to the sorcerer. He swallowed, his throat as dry as chalk. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Seyekrad approached, his contempt as cold as steel. A nauseating, sweet stench of black licorice clung to his every pore. He drew a fingernail across David’s cheek. “I am your nemesis, and I want your life.”

“Why?” David rasped. “What did I ever do to you?”

The man smiled. “It’s not what you’ve done, boy, but what you’re capable of doing. You see, you’re like an infinitesimal germ festering in my craw, and like a debilitating disease, you must be eliminated before you can do more harm.”

“That still doesn’t tell me who you are.” His throat hurt as if rubbed raw by sandpaper.

“He’s a coward, David,” Slavandria said. “A traitor. That’s what he is.”

Silver threads of fire flew from the man’s fingertips, engulfing Slavandria in flames. Her high-pitched scream rose above Avida’s cackling. It pierced the air, hanging like a single, endless, tortured note, ramming like a spike through David’s soul.

David yelled, his eyes blurred, burning. “Stop it! Leave her alone!” He fought and tugged against his bonds, but they constricted even more.

The flames evaporated. Slavandria hung her head and coughed.

Seyekrad turned to David; a wide, devilish grin stretched across his face. “My, my, you have more fire than I remember.” He leaned in, his medicinal breath billowing like a toxic cloud across David’s face. “You want to know who I am? Come on. I’m sure you can figure it out. Humor me. Take a guess.”

David focused on a path leading into the dark woods. “I don’t know. A sucky version of Zorro or Batman?” The words,
Accelero Silentium
echoed in his head.

Nothing.

Nothing except Seyekrad’s crazed laughter. “Oh, my. Did you think your juvenile attempts at whatever magic this hellcat gave you would work?”

David thought harder.
Ibidem Evanescere
.

Seyekrad’s hand clamped down on David’s throat, his spindly fingers curled around David’s neck. “Why, you’re just a mess of defiance, aren’t you?”

A gurgle ushered out of David’s mouth.

“Leave him alone,” Slavandria said.

“Keep quiet, witch!” Avida stormed across the clearing and slapped Slavandria across the face. “You will keep your mouth shut unless spoken to or I’ll kill you myself.”

“Go ahead, kill me,” Slavandria shouted. “I’m sure my father would love to hunt you down and take your wretched life.”

Seyekrad sneered. “Oh yes, good old daddy always to the rescue. Well, not this time, my dear, because for once, it’s not you I want. It’s this delectable morsel.”

“Why? He’s just a boy,” Slavandria said.

Seyekrad released his hold on David’s throat and laughed. “Do you take me for a fool?” He strolled toward her, his hands clasped together as if in prayer. “Did you believe that after all these years, Slavandria, after everything we’ve been through together, I wouldn’t figure it out?” He stroked his forefinger across her brow. “Ah, but you must have because you went to great lengths to hide him. But I found him despite your efforts to keep him secret. Do you want to know how?” A fearful look of curiosity flashed in her eyes. He tilted his head and leaned close to her ear. “I followed you.”

The sorceress’ skin paled, but she remained silent.

“Oh yes. I know all about Havendale, sweet love of mine. I know about the attempts to hide him from my eyes. Not only did I find him, but I have also been watching him for quite some time. In fact, we have spent quite a bit of time together, David and I.”

Avida cackled from behind a tree. “Yes, we have all become
very
good friends.”

Seyekrad twisted around. “Shut up, Avida, or I shall displace your tongue from your foul mouth!” She sulked into the dark misty shadows of the forest, hissing, and scowling.

“What does she mean, we’ve become good friends?” David asked, wrestling against his constraints. “I’ve never seen you before in my life!”

Seyekrad thrust out his right arm; his hand gnarled into a claw. The blue of his eyes faded and turned a fiery milky white.

A fistful of magic punched through to David’s brain. A string of images, memories, played in his head like a movie. Mr. Loudermilk’s history class. Chess games on the man’s front porch. Mowing Mrs. Fenton’s yard. Listening to her play the piano.

David squeezed his eyes shut, a desperate attempt to cast the visions aside. “What are you doing?” he cried out. His brain hurt as if pressed in a vise. More movies skipped across his mind like a worn rock over a still lake. Realization began to set in.

No. No. It couldn’t be.

David writhed in torturous agony, his head on fire as the image of Seyekrad’s face merged with Mr. Loudermilk’s.

“No! Get out!”
he screamed. Tears flooded down his cheeks. “How could you? You were my teacher, my friend! Why?”

“Because he shifted his allegiance, didn’t you?” Slavandria said. “You turned against the realm. How could you, Seyekrad? How could you betray me, my father, and your oath? What did the Dragon King promise you?”

Seyekrad’s lip turned up in a wolfish scowl. “You broke me, Slavandria. You ripped my heart out when you cast my love aside … for Mangus Grythorn! I begged. I groveled for a place at your side, and you denied me. Now I have a place at the Dragon King’s side, and I want you to suffer for what you did. I want your spirit to break. You will live long enough to see the light leave the eyes of this insolent pup, this human paladin. Then I will give you to the Dragon King to make of your soul what he wishes. You would make a beautiful shadowmorth.”