The Kingdom of Eternal Sorrow (The Golden Mage Book 1) (7 page)

The first thing Allison saw after waking was the face of the strange,
white-haired man. For a few seconds, she stared up at him blankly, her mind
still muddled and heavy with sleep. Then movement within the room caught her
attention, and she tore her gaze from his face to the penetrating eyes of the three
men at the foot of her bed. Her eyes widened as she took in the appearances of
her new—visitors.

Like the white-haired man, the others wore similarly strange and lavish
costumes, though of different colors and levels of elegance. The one that stood
on the outside right wore a sapphire-blue robe completely embedded with gold
braiding and jewels. Everything about him screamed “I am in charge,” not only
in the obvious wealth of his clothing and his noble carriage, but also in his
severe, controlled expression as he looked down on her as though studying an
interesting new specimen.

The old man standing on the other end of the trio eyed her with open
mistrust and something a little like contempt. He wore rather ornate, white
robes of the strange silk-like material, and many jeweled rings encircled his
bony fingers. His hair was as white as the hair of the younger man standing
beside her, except for a few strands of silver.

Standing in the center of them and dressed in garments similar to the younger
white-haired man’s except for their deep green color, a twenty-something
redheaded man stared down at her warily, his face pale and his stance so tense
that his entire body quivered. His hand unconsciously fingered the hilt of a
sheathed dagger on his belt, and Allison was quite certain that he would not
hesitate to use it if provoked.

On the verge of panicking, Allison whimpered and attempted to scramble
out of their reach, but the large headboard behind her prevented her from
moving back very far.

Who are these people?
she thought frantically, cowering against
the thick headboard under the intense stares of the others.
Where in the
hell am I?

Then the younger, white-haired man spoke, and Allison nearly choked on
a sharp gasp when she clearly understood the strange words. Her mind had
interpreted their meaning effortlessly as though he was speaking a second
language she had known fluently all her life.

“How—how—” she sputtered aloud in English.

The white-haired man gazed down at her in confusion, his pale-violet
eyes burning into her own, but as before, she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze
away from those eyes—so imploring, so full of—concern? He glanced over at the
old man, who merely shrugged, before turning his eyes to her again.

Then his expression changed to one of understanding. His eyes
brightened, and a ghost of a smile began to form on his lips. She found that
smile unnerving, and she couldn’t fathom why it disturbed her as much as it
did. She shivered and hugged her body more tightly in a subconscious effort to
protect herself as her eyes darted fearfully between the four men.

None of this is real. These people aren’t real. This
has
to
be a dream! None of this craziness can be—

“I assure you this is
very
real,
we
are very real,” the
white-haired man suddenly said firmly in that strange tongue.

Allison’s mind jolted to a halt. It was as if he had plucked the
thoughts right out of her mind.
Coincidence—it has to be a coincidence. My
thoughts must have been clear through the expression on my face—nothing more…

“Your language is unknown to us,” he continued, offering her a gentle
smile, “as is your appearance. Although you may not understand why you can
suddenly understand our tongue when you couldn’t before, you’ll also find that
you can speak it with the ease of your native tongue. I ask that you use it,
for we cannot understand yours.”

This can’t be—I
do
understand him
, she thought in utter bewilderment.
Is he right? Can I speak his weird language even though I’ve never heard it
until today?
She slowly relaxed her huddled posture and cautiously looked at
all the alien faces at the foot of the bed more closely. Although tense and
eying her with what appeared to be mistrust, none of the men had made any
hostile moves towards her, or, in fact, moved at all.

Yet.

Then there was the strange, yet handsome man who looked to be old, but
wasn’t. He had assured her that they meant her no harm, but could she trust his
words? He seemed sincere enough, his smile genuine, but what had he done
earlier to cause her temporary paralysis? Allison was sure he had caused it,
but she had absolutely no clue on
how
he had done it.

She looked back at the man beside her. There was no doubt that he
frightened her, but at the same time, her curiosity was peaked. She had too
many unanswered questions whirling around in her mind, questions she
desperately needed answers to if she hoped to make sense of what was happening
to her. She decided to give their language a try.

Clearing her throat nervously, Allison said in a small voice, “Who are
you?”

Immediately after those words left her lips, she let out a tiny gasp of
shock. The words she had just spoken were not English but in a language that
was both foreign and familiar. She hadn’t really believed that she would be
able to speak his language. She had formed the question in her mind in English,
but when she had opened her mouth to speak, the words had mysteriously converted
to the strangers’ language.

Ignoring her gasp, the white-haired man replied rather amusedly, “I
think that the more important question, milady, is who are
you
?”

The humor in his voice disconcerted her, and Allison once again shrank
away from him in uncertainty. She didn’t know what she had expected him to
reply, but it had not been this casual rebuttal of her own question as if he
was mocking her.

Just as fear began to creep in again, a warm sensation enveloped her
body, causing her tension to immediately melt away and her limbs to relax until
she was more or less lying slumped against the headboard. She felt comfortable,
at peace, and that nothing would ever hurt her, almost as if someone was
whispering those reassurances into her mind.

“My name is Allison McNeal,” she said abruptly without realizing that
she was going to speak, breaking the heavy silence in the room.

“Allison,” the white-haired man repeated as if testing the way the word
felt on the tip of his tongue, “such a strange name. Very strange, indeed.” He
tilted his head to the side curiously. “Not knowing our language, you are
obviously far from home. How is it that you came to be in the Forest of
Illusions?”

“Where?” Allison asked in surprise, forgetting for the moment that she
was speaking their language as casually as her own.

“The Forest of Illusions,” he repeated patiently, as if talking to a
small child. “Do you not know where you are?”

When she shook her head, he frowned and said, “This is the kingdom of
Lamia, but that is not what’s important.” His eyes narrowed. “
How
you
came to be in our kingdom without the level of your powers being detected at
our borders is what concerns us.”

Lamia? Kingdom…?

“I don’t know!” Allison cried, clutching the blanket pooled on her lap.
“I’ve never even
heard
of Lamia! What do you mean, ‘my powers’? Oh, God!
Will somebody please tell me what’s going on? Why do I suddenly understand your
language? What did you
do
to me?”

The fear and confusion had returned with a vengeance, erasing the
strange languidness that had overtaken her body. She longed to be able to just
melt into the bed, anything other than face this impossible situation.

The white-haired man abruptly reached a hand towards her, and Allison shrieked,
causing him to immediately jerk it away as if singed.

“Don’t touch me!” she moaned, hugged her knees to her body and shutting
her eyes tightly, willing herself far away even as she automatically braced
herself for an all-too-familiar blow.

This can’t be real!
Allison thought miserably, remembered pain
and old fears coming to the forefront of her entire being and threatening to
strangle her.
We got out! I got out!
No one was supposed to be able
to hurt me again. This is only a nightmare—just a nightmare. I’m still in bed
in my apartment. Soon I’ll wake up, and this will all be just a bad memory. Just
a—

Her frantic self-reassurances were interrupted by a loud voice that
seemed to emerge from the back of her mind, a voice that exclaimed,
“Selwyn,
for Seni’s sake, calm her!”
The same security and warmth that she had
experienced earlier immediately followed that voice, dragging her out of the
dark pit she had fallen into and back into the here and now so suddenly that
she knew it couldn’t have been natural. With a newfound horrible clarity, she
now realized that she was being manipulated.

“Stop it!” Allison shouted, her fear instantly melting away into anger
as she lifted up her head to glare at the redhead, whom she inexplicably
knew
had caused her to feel that warmth.

She suddenly felt violated in the worst way. Through all her past
beatings and verbal abuse by her once stepfather, at least her emotions, her
reactions, had been totally
hers
, something
he
couldn’t have, and
now this stranger had suddenly changed that.

“Whatever it is you’re doing to me, just stop it!”

The redhead visibly paled and took a couple of steps back away from the
bed. He swayed a little before he took a deep, audible breath and seemed to
control himself with considerable effort.

Satisfied that she had unnerved him, she then turned to the
white-haired man, who was staring at her with wide eyes, and demanded, “Who are
you?
What
are you? Who the hell is Selwyn?” She pointed to the redheaded
man and asked, “Is that Selwyn?”

Before the white-haired man could open his mouth to reply, she
continued almost in the same breath, “How did I get here? You
must
know!
What was it that he was doing to me?”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Allison knew that she was only able
to face these men and boldly demand answers because the redhead had taken away
her fear, and that realization only made her angrier.

The man held up his hands as if he was afraid she was about to go for
his throat and said, “Please calm yourself, milady. I’ll gladly answer your
questions, but only one at a time and
only
when you have settled down. We
mean you no harm, as I said before, but we do wish to understand how you
entered into the kingdom as well. That’s a question that we had hoped
you
could
answer.”

His eyes narrowed as Allison opened her mouth to speak but immediately
bit back on the retort she had been ready to spat at him when she suddenly felt
a chill go up her spine.

“If you don’t calm yourself,” he said slowly, his voice low and warning,
“then I’ll be forced to spell you into immobility again until you are willing
to be civil.”

Allison’s anger died away, and she shivered when she heard the coldness
in his voice. In that instant, she knew that this was an extremely dangerous
man. She felt her entire body go rigid as she stared back at him, afraid to
even blink.

Nodding with satisfaction at her reaction, the man said, “To answer your
first question, my name is Aidric Stanisnik. I am the Mage-general of Lamia and
also court mage to King Diryan Lasha.”

“—which would be me,” the auburn-haired man at the foot of the bed said
suddenly, speaking for the first time in her presence and nodding slightly when
her eyes acknowledged him.

Her eyes were dangerously close to popping out of their sockets. A
King—it was no wonder he had such an aura of authority about him!

As she gawked at the king, a particular word in Aidric’s introduction
of himself suddenly sank into her shocked mind, and she realized the
implications of the title he had introduced himself as.

She turned back to Aidric. “You said you were—a m-mage?” Allison asked,
her voice stuttering over the last word that she was certain that she had
misheard.

Aidric exchanged an unreadable look with the king. “Yes,” he answered,
watching her face more intently.

“But—you can’t be,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

“Is that so?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because mages don’t exist,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

“Don’t exist?” Aidric echoed in bewilderment. “Of course they exist.”

Allison shook her head. “Not where I come from,” she insisted.

“Most peculiar,” King Diryan interjected. “I have never heard of a land
in all of Seni’s World that does not possess at least the knowledge of mages in
general. Even the most remote village in Sonon knows of mages.”

“Seni’s World?”

“Yes, Seni’s World,” the king repeated. He raised an eyebrow at her
blank expression and asked, “
Surely
you are not ignorant of Seni as well,
milady.”

The look of utter disapproval on the king’s face made Allison uneasy. It
reminded her too much of the looks her stepfather used to give her when she had
squirmed too much as a child during the excruciatingly long and often times
disturbing “church” services he had dragged all of them to every day. Depending
on his mood, the consequence of those looks had led to anywhere from a
tongue-lashing to a few whacks across her back with a belt for her “disrespect”
to the cult’s leader. Was “Seni” the name of their god?

“I’m afraid that I am,” Allison said hesitantly, not daring to meet the
king’s steely gaze. Something in those piercing smoky-blue eyes unnerved her,
but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it—something familiar. Yet, she
couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes for more than a few seconds to determine
why.