Chronicles of the Four: The Complete Series

by Marissa Farrar

  More guards piled in, far outnumbering them.

  “Find us another way out of here, Vehel,” Dela begged him.

  It broke his heart to let her down, but there was no other way out. The vault was designed that way.

  Orergon and Warsgra fought with everything they had, but it was never going to be enough.

  Vehel lifted his hand and did what the Seer had taught him, channeling his magic, without expelling it all. Blue light erupted, and the first line of guards flew backward, hitting those behind.

  “A Mage!” someone cried. “Stop him.”

  He suddenly realized he’d just made himself the number one target. Even with the Seer’s teachings, his magic wasn’t an endless resource. Was he going to be forced to kill all these people to keep Dela safe? He wasn’t a killer, but times had changed now. Xantearos was at war, and this was what was necessary. Killing for the things you believed in.

  Warsgra suddenly let out a yell, and his sword clanged to the ground. One of the guards had managed to disarm him, and he was defenseless. Three guards surrounded him, each with their swords pointed at the Norc. Vehel glanced toward the door where more guards streamed in like rats.

  Were they about to kill Warsgra?

  Suddenly, a male voice boomed from the doorway. “Wait! I want them taken alive.”

  King Roland Crowmere stood in the vault’s entrance, his shoulders back, his head held high. City Guards surrounded him, protecting him with their weapons.

  Orergon had also been relieved of his weapon. It was a standoff, and not one they were going to win.

  “That one is capable of magic,” a different male voice shouted, and Vehel looked over to see Dela’s friend appearing from behind the king’s shoulder and pointing directly at him.

  King Crowmere fixed his gaze on Vehel. “So, you were the one to break the Treaty.”

  Vehel stared back. He’d been around royalty his whole life and it was never going to intimidate him. “It was never my intention. I was trying to save lives.”

  His lip curled. “That sounds like an excuse if I ever heard one.”

  “You started a war,” Dela threw at the king. “We want to end it.”

  The king pointed a finger at Vehel. “No, you started the war.”

  King Roland Crowmere turned his attention to where Dela was standing, clutching the dragon egg to her chest. “And how does being here, in my vault, stealing my property, help to end a war?”

  Dela pulled the egg closer. “This doesn’t belong to you.”

  King Crowmere frowned and took the couple of steps needed to bring him in front of Dela. He caught her by the chin and wrenched her face toward his. He need not have bothered, as Dela lifted her chin anyway and stared him defiantly in the eye. “Who are you, girl?”

  “My name is Dela Stonebridge and I am a Dragonsayer.”

  He gave a laugh and released her face. “There are no Dragonsayers.” He nodded to one of his guards. “Take the egg from her.”

  The guard returned a brisk nod and stepped forward. He reached out and took the egg in both hands and pulled. It didn’t budge. Dela threw Vehel a look that was filled with both gratitude and fear.

  “I ... I ... can’t,” the guard stuttered.

  The king’s face grew puce with anger. “What?”

  “It seems to be stuck.”

  Brer jumped in again, and Vehel curled his lip at the young man in a snarl. “It was magic. The Elvish male did something to stop us taking the egg.”

  The king turned back to Vehel. “Is that right? Then I suggest you undo it.”

  “I can’t,” he lied. “The magic will wear off in time, but it can’t be undone.”

  King Crowmere turned to his men. “I’ve heard enough. Take them prisoner.”

  They came at him, multiple guards rushing toward him at the same time. Vehel spun away from the nearest one, then ducked the strike of a sword coming from the other direction. He let out a blast of light, sending several men flying, but there were too many for him to contend with.

  A blow struck him across the back of his head, and everything went dark.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Dela

  DELA SCREAMED AS VEHEL crumpled to the floor of the vault.

  “Separate them,” the king commanded.

  “No!” She struggled in the grasp of the two City Guards who had hold of her.

  “Let her go!” Warsgra roared. He had a sword held at his throat.

  “Try anything, and we’ll take her hand,” the king said. “Maybe then she’ll release my dragon egg.”

  “It’s magic,” Orergon snarled. “She can’t release it.”

  “Separate them,” King Crowmere repeated. “Lock them in different cells. Actually, lock them in different places, too. I don’t want them conspiring with each other and coming up with some kind of story. I want the truth behind them being here. Torture them if you have to.”

  Dela struggled again, though she knew it would do no good. She couldn’t fight too hard for fear of breaking the dragon egg, and she was never going to get past the king’s men even if she did break free. But it wasn’t the thought of being tortured that bothered her the most, but that she was going to be separated from Vehel and the others again. Vehel didn’t even have a way to protect himself.

  It took four men to drag Warsgra out of the vault. She was terrified she was never going to see him again, hating the sight of the sword at his throat. Warsgra was hotheaded. What if he pushed them too far and they pulled that blade across his throat? The possibility of losing him—of losing any of them—was worse than anything else she could imagine being done to her.

  Orergon’s face was a taut mask beneath the curtain of black hair that hung over his features. He shoved his shoulders into the guards who had hold of him, but one of them had the point of a sword pressed into his side.

  “It’ll be okay,” she called to them both. “Just tell them the truth. Tell them we want peace.”

  Because that was the truth. They hadn’t come here with violence in mind. Even though they’d been forced to fight for their lives, all they truly wanted was peace. But that was never going to happen while this king and queen were in power. But how was she ever going to change that? She was only a girl, and they’d been overpowered at the first hurdle.

  In her arms, clutched to her chest, the egg grew warmer still, and she was certain something had moved beneath the shell, a rippling, like something was pushing to get out.

  But that was impossible. How long had the egg been down in the vault? Years, she was sure. Maybe even since before this king and queen had taken the throne. There was no way anything could still be alive inside, never mind something suddenly ready to hatch, was there? Yet she was certain she’d felt the thump of something akin to a heartbeat when she’d first held the egg, and there was no denying the warmth it emitted. Was there a chance it had lain dormant all this time, just waiting for the right moment to be freed?

  Though she didn’t like not having the use of both hands, she was grateful Vehel had bound the egg to her. She held it tight to her chest, like a talisman. While she didn’t want to lose her hands either, those were the lengths they would need to take if they were going to take the dragon egg off her.

  Rough hands pushed and yanked her as she was dragged away from the others and down the long, dark passageways of the castle. She’d given up calling out for the others, knowing Vehel wasn’t going to hear her anyway, and that Warsgra and Orergon would be out of earshot by now. The guards who had hold of her made no attempt to be gentle, but Dela wasn’t concerned about her own safety. The most important thing was that the dragon egg stayed safe. She was terrified she’d be thrown against a wall, and the egg would take most of the impact and break. She didn’t know how Vehel’s magic worked, but the egg felt as though it was a part of her now. She could remove one hand from it if she needed, but she doubted she’d be able to put it down. Though she was grateful for that right now, it wouldn’t exactly
be practical in the long term—if she lived long enough to have to worry about that.

  Finally, she was yanked to a halt. They were in front of a door, which one of the guards leaned past her to shove open. Beyond was a cell with no windows. A metal framed cot and a bucket in the corner were the only furnishings.

  “Get in there,” the other guard growled, giving her a shove from behind.

  Dela flew forward, her worst fear springing to mind as she imaged herself falling and crushing the dragon egg beneath her body. But somehow she managed to keep her balance and twisted her body so only the backs of her legs hit the cot on the other side of the small space.

  “Welcome to your new home,” the guard sneered. “Not that you’ll live long enough to appreciate it.”

  The door slammed shut, encasing her in darkness. A loud crack sounded as a bolt was jammed into place. The only light came from the small gap beneath the door, and the place stank of stale urine. Dela pressed her lips together, holding back a sob. Was this futile? How was she supposed to escape from here?

  She lowered herself to sit on the edge of the cot and held the dragon egg close. Its warmth penetrated through her clothes, at least giving her some comfort in the cold, dark place.

  Her thoughts turned to the others. Where were they being held? Had they been taken back to the dungeon? Or did the king think they wouldn’t be contained there, and so instructed them to be taken to rooms similar to the one she was in now? She hadn’t heard any signs of them when the guards had been dragging her here, so they might be on the other side of the castle, for all she knew. This place was huge, with hundreds of rooms and different passageways. They could be anywhere. Not that her knowing where they were would make any difference. It wasn’t as though she’d be breaking free and rescuing them any time soon.

  It was impossible to track how much time had passed—maybe an hour, maybe less—but eventually movement came at the door. The lock cracked back, and Dela jumped to her feet, her pulse racing in anticipation.

  The door opened to reveal two more guards, but a far larger figure stood behind them. With his broad shoulders and thick beard of golden brown, King Roland Crowmere made a striking figure. She guessed him to be in his early forties, with the queen in her late thirties, but, despite their ages, they had not produced an heir to the throne. It was something people never mentioned in public, but often gossiped about behind closed doors. After all, how would a kingdom continue without an heir? That wasn’t Dela’s concern right now. If she had her way, neither of them would be on the throne.

  The guards parted, allowing the king through.

  He regarded her with disgust. “Well, here she is. The young woman who has somehow got herself caught up with usurpers from the other races, and saw fit to return here to steal from me.”

  Dela held the egg tighter. “This doesn’t belong to you.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “It doesn’t belong to you either.”

  “I know that. I’m returning it.”

  The king gave a deep laugh. “And who, may I ask, are you returning it to?”

  “To the dragon it belongs to,” she said, stubbornly, refusing to allow herself to be intimidated by this man. Somehow he seemed to take up more space than a regular person, as though he exuded an aura that made him larger than he actually was.

  King Roland Crowmere pressed his lips together, his nostrils flaring as he stared at her, and then burst into laughter. Behind him, the two guards joined in with the peals.

  He managed to get hold of himself, his cheeks flushed. He touched his fingers to his lips as though trying to contain his mirth. “You do know that dragons no longer exist.”

  She held his gaze, her jaw rigid. “You believe whatever you want to believe.”

  “And even if they did still exist, you’re not getting out of Castle Tearos with that egg.”

  “We’ll see about that.” They were empty threats. She had no plan, no way of getting out of here. What he was saying was most likely the truth, but she wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of seeing her broken.

  The king turned to the guards. “Take the egg.”

  The guards hesitated. “Umm, we’ve already tried. It’s as though it’s been glued to her hand somehow.”

  “That damned Elvish creature.”

  “He’s not a creature!” she blurted. “He’s a prince.”

  The king shook his head. “I don’t recognize his kingdom. If it were up to me, they wouldn’t even be allowed to call each other kings and princes. I’m the only king in Xantearos. My forefathers allowed the Elvish to keep their kingdom, but it doesn’t mean I have to respect it. Not that it matters now, anyway. With the Treaty broken, we can do whatever we want.”

  She stared at him in fury. “You’re happy this happened, aren’t you? You want there to be a war.”

  The king’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure why I should care, but tell me why you’re so against there being one.”

  “Because it’s unnecessary,” she snapped. “The Elvish don’t mean us any harm. Neither do any of the other races. They should be allowed to practice magic if it’s a part of who they are, and the other races should be allowed to live wherever they choose.”

  “What would we gain from that?”

  “We wouldn’t lose people to the Choosing every six months, for one. We wouldn’t have to give up our food so you can fill your vault with yet more gold and jewels. What are you planning on doing with it all, anyway? There’s only so much you can wear.”

  “Wealth is power. Maybe if you were a little older and more well versed in the ways of the world, you’d understand that.”

  Dela shook her head, curling her lip in disgust. “I’ve seen more of this world than you ever will. You call yourself a king, but you’ve sent all those men out to fight for you, while you’re hiding here, in your castle.”

  He took two steps to bring himself into her personal space. His movement was so fast, she didn’t even see it coming. His palm made contact with her cheek, sending her head rocking, and pain exploded through her cheek and ear. “You don’t speak to your king in such a way.”

  She lifted her eyes to his, hating how they watered with the pain, but blinking the tears away in the hope he didn’t see them. “I don’t recognize your kingdom,” she snarled.

  “I’ve had enough of this. Guards, take that egg from her.”

  The two guards looked between each other in uncertainty. “How?” one of them asked.

  “I don’t care. Cut off her hand. But keep her alive. I want the rest of Anthoinia to see what happens to a traitor like her.”

  With that, the king turned and stormed out of the cell and down the passageway, leaving her alone with the guards.

  The two guards advanced, both of them having drawn their swords. Dela glanced between them in horror. Was this really happening? They were going to cut off her hand to get the dragon egg. Sick with fear, she backed away, but there was nowhere she could go. Her back hit the stone wall behind her.

  “No, please.” She didn’t want to beg, but the words escaped her tongue. She held out the hand not holding the dragon egg, trying to ward them off, but she was unarmed and defenseless. The only item of furniture in the room was the cot, and she darted toward it, kicking it away from the wall to try to put it between her and the guards. But they were faster than she was, and there were two of them. Strong, merciless hands caught her arms, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises. Dela struggled best she could, but they were far stronger.

  The two men spoke to each other over the top of her screams.

  “Careful of the egg.”

  “Get her onto the bed, and then stretch out the arm holding the egg.”

  “It’s wrapped around the egg. How are we going to do this without breaking it?”

  “No, please, please,” she cried, trying to barge them away with her shoulders, though it did no good.

  “Cut her arm off at the elbow. It’s not like she’s going to need it for mu
ch longer.”

  That they could joke about such a thing made Dela sick to her stomach. She didn’t want to think about the blood and agony, or the stupid vanity of being so hideously disfigured, but all these thoughts crowded her mind, making her dizzy with horror.

  The taller of the guards stood above her, while the second guard forced her arm out from her body, straining her shoulder to get a clear cut. All the fight went out of her. There was nothing more she could do. She squeezed her eyes shut and stretched her neck as far away from the cut of the sword as she could, not wanting to risk losing her head as well.

  With a growl, the guard lifted the sword high above his head. Dela felt the air move past her cheek as it swung back down again. She braced herself for the extreme pain she knew was coming.

  But there was nothing.

  “What by the Gods?”

  She risked opening an eye and glanced over. The whole of her arm and shoulder was lit up in the same blue light Vehel expelled when he did his magic. The binding spell must somehow be protecting her.

  The guard lifted the sword and brought it down again, but this time Dela forced herself to watch. The moment the blade hit the light, it glanced off, the metal skimming away from her.

  Dela let out a bark of laughter, staring in relief and amazement. Thank you, Vehel.

  The two guards looked at each other, baffled. “Now what are we supposed to do?” the one with the sword asked.

  “The king wants her alive, for the moment,” the other one said. “He’ll have to take the egg from her when she’s hanging by her throat in the market square.”

  So that was to be her fate. Though she knew no good lay in her future, she still couldn’t help her relief at getting to keep her arm. At least she’d die in one piece.

  The guards left her again, the door shutting, locking her into darkness once more.

  Chapter Thirty