Dreamthief

by Tamara Grantham

Ten

  I’d never questioned why my mom fell for my dad. My father, Magistrate Pozin III, had an ageless face of sharp angles and porcelain skin. His thick black hair never seemed out of place. He wore it in a long ponytail down his back, held together with leather cords. His velvety blue robes accentuated his lean, elven frame. Magic radiated around him like a magnetic field. He was magistrate for a reason—not because of a family pedigree or money. He’d fought for it. He’d earned it.

  I’d beaten my fair share of opponents in magical duels, but he would never be one of them.

  My father cleared his throat as he studied the chunks of wood littering the floor. “You used elemental magic?”

  “Yes.”

  “And broke the door down?”

  “Yes.”

  He plucked a piece of wood from the floor. “Why not just use a naming spell? You could have opened the doors without breaking them down.”

  “Guess I wanted to make an entrance.”

  He studied me with unflinching, almond-shaped eyes. “I see.”

  Interesting introduction. No, hey how are you? Haven’t seen you in twelve years. How’s your mother? How’s your life? We got straight to the point, like business associates. As a child, he’d visited me often enough, but he’d always seemed distant, as if it were his duty to visit me and nothing else. I wondered if that was how he thought of me now, as a professional obligation.

  He took a step back to survey the doorframe.

  The elf guard with the ruined gun spoke up. “Magistrate Pozin, if you will—I’d like to lodge a formal complaint against the Wult prince—”

  “Not now, Echorion.”

  “But sir, he attacked—”

  “Not now,” my father repeated with steel in his voice. He turned to me. “Did you learn this spell in Earth Kingdom?”

  “Not exactly. I use a mixture of Native American and dragon magic.”

  “Hmm.” He plucked up another splinter and studied it. “You do not favor elven magic?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  He shot me a questioning glance, looking as if he wanted to question me further, but then he thought better of it. “Have you been in the city long?”

  “No. And I must leave soon.”

  “That’s regretful.”

  “Regretful?”

  “I will give your regards to the assembly. They have always looked forward to meeting you, and I am sure they had hoped you would join us for dinner. But they are understanding. Under the circumstances.”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience them.” Nothing had changed. The same song and dance we’d been playing at for years—you stay out of my life, and I’ll stay out of yours.

  Blue magic hummed beneath his fingertips as he ran his fingers over the doorframe. The guards stared at the magistrate, though they kept their weapons pointed at Kull. They’d wanted an intervention from my father, but he seemed more concerned about the door.

  “You might find it interesting to know that the door had been warded. You shouldn’t have been able to touch it,” my father said.

  Warded? I hadn’t detected any magic. I should have felt something, unless…

  “You created the ward?”

  He nodded.

  Wow. Guess he’d been practicing. All practitioners left behind a trace of magic. I couldn’t understand how he hadn’t.

  “I suspect because of our blood relation, you were able to penetrate the ward. I see no other explanation.”

  Blood. Naturally. What other explanation could there be? Except maybe that I’ve been practicing, too.

  “Will you return to the city soon?” he asked.

  “Not likely.”

  “Very well. If you don’t mind, I have other matters to attend to.”

  “Of course.”

  “It was good to see you again.” His words sounded forced.

  “And you.”

  He dipped his head in a curt nod and stepped into the corridor. The guards followed, although they only managed to aim one functioning weapon at the prince.

  My father raised his arms. Electric blue light swirled around his fingertips, and bits of wood levitated from the floor, piecing together, fitting into the doorframe. He made it look so easy. A spell like that would have taken me hours to accomplish.

  With a soft whoosh, the door sealed closed. It looked perfect, as if it had never been broken.

  “Cowards,” Kull muttered as he stared at the doors. “They treat us like prisoners when we should be honored guests.”

  “Because you nearly killed one of them. They’re afraid of you.”

  “Yes, and so they are cowards.”

  King Herrick walked toward us with a sour expression. “This stops now, my son. I won’t allow you to ruin this wedding. You have done nothing but antagonize the elves since we arrived here.”

  “I take great pride in doing so.”

  King Herrick’s frown deepened. “Then I have no other choice but to banish you.”

  “Banish me? I think not. Who will marry the princess? Rogen?” He pointed to a man who wore a thick mustache and must have weighed as much a bull seal.

  Rogen chuckled with the prince’s remark, making his mustache quiver.

  The king unsheathed his sword. “Enough! I will not be mocked. I order you to the farthest reaches of the Borderlands. We’ll see how the skull spirits react to your antics.”

  Kull raised an eyebrow.

  “I am serious. Take the human. Go to the Borderlands,” King Herrick said.

  “Are you sure?” Kull asked.

  “Yes! Go,” the king repeated.

  “You want me to leave?”

  King Herrick exhaled. He seemed much older, his wrinkles deeper. I wondered how many gray hairs could be attributed to his son. “Return in time for your marriage. Do not get killed. That is all I ask.”

  “The elves will be angry.”

  “They’ll be angrier if I allow you to stay here. You’ve not obeyed a single order they’ve given you. You’ve defied them to the point of bloodshed. Even an elf’s patience wears thin. You will leave after tonight’s banquet. That is not a request.” He turned on his heel and marched away.

  Kull’s smile disappeared. I don’t think he expected banishment. He’d wanted to escort me earlier, but that was before his banishment. Shocked faces filled the hall. Kull stuffed his hands in his pockets and stomped to an open doorway. “Follow me, earthlander,” he called over his shoulder.

  I hesitated. Should I? Surely, I didn’t need Thor the Skullsplitter to escort me to the Borderlands. I didn’t know him very well, but I knew I didn’t get along with his type—arrogant and stubborn. Either he or I would be dead by the end of this trip.

  I followed Kull. He led me into a narrow hallway that stopped at a steep staircase. He didn’t talk as he led me down the steps.

  When we reached a door at the bottom of the staircase, he led me inside. We entered an armory. Cudgels, battle-axes, and a few swords filled most of the shelves. Why the Wults needed to bring so many weapons with them to the elf kingdom was a mystery.

  Kull grabbed an axe and tested its weight, then threw it across the room. It clattered against the floor. “Banishment! What is he thinking? I am not a child. He’s made a fool of me. He will regret this.” He paced the room, his footsteps heavy.

  I stayed in the corner, watching with a wary eye. He muttered under his breath, and then stopped by a sword that hung suspended from the rest of the weaponry. The broadsword caught my eye, not because it was embellished or overly ornate. With its tarnished, thick pommel and slightly tapered blade, it looked like a true Viking weapon.

  I knew Vikings were particular about their swords. Wults treated their swords no differently. Most were heirlooms, passed down from father to son, and most were given names. I wondered what this sword was called. Brain Basher?

  Kull grabbed the sword off the wall. I flinched, but he only ran his fingers along the blade as if it w
ere a cherished friend instead of merely a weapon. After a few more minutes of alone time with his broadsword, he seemed to calm. I took a careful step forward.

  “It’s a lovely weapon,” I said, trying to be polite.

  He growled. “It is hardly lovely. This is Bloodbane—a weapon forged by my great-grandfather in the volcanic mountains of the outer islands. I trust this sword with my life.”

  “Then I will not get in its way.”

  Bloodbane, huh? I hadn’t been too far off the mark with Brain Basher.

  “We travel to the Borderlands first,” he said. “I’ll give you two days to complete your quest. Then, you will escort me to Earth Kingdom, where you will help me retrieve the dinosaur’s skeleton.”

  “You realize that once you cross back to Faythander, you won’t remember going to Earth Kingdom?”

  “I understand. It is enough for me to have the skeleton in my possession.” He grabbed a scabbard off a shelf and buckled it around his waist, muttering something under his breath as he placed the sword in the scabbard and then grabbed a dagger. His knuckles grew white on the blade’s hilt. “Isn’t it enough that I agreed to marry the princess? His punishments are unjust, even by Wult standards.”

  “At least he didn’t order your execution,” I offered.

  He pointed the dagger at me. “I did not ask for your opinion. If we are to travel together, then you will stay out of my affairs, understood?”

  I crossed my arms. I may have been half his height with a harmless appearance, but I was not a pushover. “If we are to travel together, then I suggest you think before you speak. It’s your mouth that gets you into trouble.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “One could offer the same advice to you.”

  I shrugged. He was right. No point in arguing.

  He grabbed a knapsack off a hook and stuffed a few knives inside. “Do you have any weapons?”

  “Does my magic count?”

  “No.” He tossed a knife to me and scowled as he watched my clumsy attempt at a catch. “You’ll have to practice with it.”

  A woman entered the room, and I recognized her long braid from earlier. She wore armor over her leather breeches and shirt that hugged her shapely frame. Her muscles bulged beneath silver arm guards. Her beauty was apparent, though she seemed aloof. Looking at her now, her steel-gray eyes, her arms crossed over her chest, she seemed more dangerous than I’d first judged her.

  She stood taller than me. On closer inspection, I realized shiny, pink scars covered her hands and arms. It looked as if she’d been burned and hadn’t healed properly.

  “He isn’t going anywhere without me,” she said.

  “Father would never allow you to travel with me, Heidel. You’ll stay here.”

  “He’s already granted me permission.”

  Kull cursed. “You’ll kill us both.”

  “On the contrary. I mean to keep you out of danger. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve saved your skin.”

  “By the gods, you’ll stay here, Heidel. I demand—”

  She pulled a knife from her belt and casually pointed it at him. “You are in no position to make demands.”

  Their gazes locked.

  Heidel’s knife caught my attention—a black blade with a mirrored surface, curving from an embellished hilt. Wults never embellished their weapons. They thought it ostentatious. And they would never use black blades, either—it wouldn’t show off the blood as well as a silver one. Why would she choose a weapon like that?

  “You mean to challenge me over this, sister?” he asked.

  “If I must.”

  “You will fail.”

  “Perhaps. But the fact remains that you need me.”

  “Why would I need you?”

  “The battle with the Maywelter tribe. You stole from the chieftain’s personal vault. He would have beheaded you had I not intervened.”

  “I had already escaped by the time you arrived.”

  “Or the time when I found you with the pixie king’s daughter. Ulizet, wasn’t it? The day before her wedding. You would have been stoned that time—or was it hung? I managed to lure the guards away, which took a great deal of planning. You have to admit, you wouldn’t have made it without me.”

  Kull glanced at me. “She won’t relent, will she?”

  “It doesn’t appear so. Maybe you should listen to her.”

  He crossed his arms.

  “Maybe you should,” Heidel agreed.

  “Fine. You may come. But only if you swear to follow my lead and stay out of my way.” Kull shouldered his pack. When he attempted to leave the room, Heidel blocked his path.

  “No, I lead. I’ve traveled the Borderlands. I know the terrain.”

  “If I take the light-rails, I won’t need to know the terrain.”

  “The light-rails do not lead to the temple. Why are you resisting me?”

  Kull stared at his sister. “You forget your place.”

  “I am well aware of my place. Father knows I’ve traveled through the Borderlands. It is why he allowed me to escort you. I suggest you relent in your pompous chauvinism and allow me to do my job of protecting you.”

  His voice turned to a growl. “I won’t forget this, Heidel.” His knives clanged together as he stormed into the hall.

  Heidel fidgeted with her blade, her back turned to me.

  I cleared my throat. “That’s an interesting knife,” I said.

  She tapped the hilt, finally seeming to acknowledge me. “It is effective.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes. When used properly. Did my brother give you a weapon?”

  I showed her the knife.

  “Good. Keep it close. This path we travel is one of grave danger.”

  “I’ve heard.”

  She left the room without another word.

  I made my way to the dining hall. The king invited me to sit at the head table, though I couldn’t imagine why—I’d offended his spoiled, princely son. Though, come to think of it, perhaps that’s why the king wanted me to join him.

  Soon after dinner began, the doors creaked open. The elf princess stepped through, followed by a few of her guards. With my vantage point from the head table, I couldn’t get a close look at her, but I knew immediately that she was a practitioner. Her embroidered robes, delicate jewelry, and long, silvery hair couldn’t hide her aura of magic. Her powers felt nearly as strong as my father’s.

  So, she was a sorceress. And a good one. It seemed rather convenient that the crown prince of the Wults should be getting married to one of the most powerful elven enchantresses I’d ever encountered. If he stepped one foot out of line, I had no doubt she had the ability to deal with him—kill him, most likely—and start a war if she wanted.

  I felt as if I needed to warn the Wults, but perhaps they already knew of the princess’s powers. Considering Kull’s ambivalence toward magic, I doubted he would take me seriously.

  Kull greeted his bride-to-be with a quick peck on the cheek, then led her inside the room. I noticed the noise levels in the hall diminished quite a bit. She flashed a forced smile at the assembled crowd, then took a seat next to Kull, near me and the king.

  King Herrick rose. “The Wults welcome their future princess.”

  The enchantress nodded. Dinner continued, though I could hardly believe I sat in the same hall I’d come to earlier. After a few moments of eating in silence, the princess fixed her gaze on me.

  “I felt your magic in the door just now. Earth magic. Where did you learn it?”

  Gets right to the point, doesn’t she?

  “I’ve spent some time on Earth.”

  “Have you?”

  “My mother is human.”

  “I see.” She glanced at Kull and laced her fingers through his. “That explains it, then.”

  Explains what? Why my ears aren’t as pointy as yours?

  “I’m sure you must feel rather awkward in the elven city. Let me know if there’s any way
I can help you feel more comfortable. I’d be happy to show you around.”

  “Thank you, but there’s no need.”

  “If that is your wish.” Her head bobbed in a brief bow. “You’ll have to excuse me for not introducing myself. I am Euralysia.”

  “Yes, I gathered that. My name is Olive.”

  “And I gathered that, as well. Teach me Earth magic some time? It seems fascinating.”

  “Does it?”

  “Yes. Quite fascinating.” She took a small sip from her goblet.

  “I’m surprised you feel that way. Earth magic is nothing compared to elven enchantments. I think someone as powerful as you would find it boring.”

  Her eyes darkened. “I’m only a novice at magic.”

  “Are you?” What I’d suspected was true. The Wults didn’t know of her abilities, which made me wonder what else she’d hidden from them.

  “I have only a casual interest in magic. These days, I’m more focused on the wedding preparations. They’ve become quite tedious.” Her laugh reminded me of butterflies and sunshine.

  I took a sip of my wine to hide my smirk. Were the Wults really buying the flighty-girl routine? She was beautiful, for sure; maybe they couldn’t see past it.

  “Tell me what Earth Kingdom is like. I hear it’s quite a savage place.”

  Savage?

  “I suppose that depends on how pampered you are.”

  That laugh again. “I would travel there, but having my memories erased frightens me. How do you manage without your memories?”

  “The crossing doesn’t affect me. I suppose having parents from both worlds has something to do with it.”

  “Really? So you remember everything from Earth Kingdom?”

  “Yes.”

  “Truly fascinating,” she nudged Kull, “don’t you think?”

  He looked up with his mouth full. “Ah, yessh.”

  Euralysia turned back to me, her eyes silver under the flickering torchlight, and pressed her hands together. Her twining fingers reminded me of a spider’s legs. “It’s a shame that you’re leaving so soon; I’d love to hear of Earth Kingdom. And of its magic.”

  That sounded like a horribly dangerous idea. Someone as naturally gifted as her could alter the course of both worlds with that much power. There wasn’t a chance in this world or the other that I would teach her.

  “Yes, a real shame.”