Dragon Soul (Daughter of Shadow Book 1)

by LJ Swallow

  Saskia and I never became the prince and princess we were meant to be.

  I don’t care as this allows me status without the pomp. Saskia does—she wants the pomp and behaves like a bloody princess half the time.

  My great uncle Bartholomew, our current king, elected Mara as his War Captain, a surprise move. Rumours abound at first that she was his mistress and this was a reward. She has since proved herself. My uncle, Prince James, is his son, and next in line.

  Away from the stronghold, accompanying Calla, stripped my life back to basics and danger I’ve never faced before. Now, I’m back here and no longer equal the way we were when fighting to survive. I’m a High Lord and must return to and fulfil the role I was born to.

  The number of blue and white blocks on the map has shrunk since I last looked, although the blue have moved closer to the realm of Ebon queen’s court. How many are dying? If this continues, Mara will face a hard battle to keep her leadership role.

  Her decision to recruit magic users for battle was scoffed at—sorcerers have little physical ability, and if an Ebon attacked they’d be killed quicker than they could cast a spell. Generals grumble sorcerers don’t belong on the battlefield. That the armies would spend too much time protecting the weak and that would distract and lay the army open to attack.

  Others agree with Galen and me—magic is needed to counteract magic. The Ebon Queen is a powerful sorceress, and we can no longer ignore the effect this has on her armies. Tales of Ebon armies with inhuman strength and abilities, reported by survivors, was enough to seal the deal.

  We need magic help because we no longer know what we are dealing with.

  The door opens and closes, and I’m pulled away from my concerns. Galen crosses towards me and glances at the map. “This doesn’t look good, Leander.”

  “I know. Hopefully, the losses will encourage Mara to listen when we introduce Calla.”

  I sit on a nearby chair, one highbacked and carved with the Silvercrest symbol, beside the massive oak table where strategies are planned, and arguments held. Nobody else is here.

  “Where is Calla?”

  “She’s in my quarters, preparing herself.”

  “You left her alone?” Galen frowns. “I trust her, but I don’t trust others.”

  “I left a guard outside the door and instructed Tilly to bring her as soon as she was ready. Nothing will happen.”

  “When was this?” Galen sits too. “I hope she hasn’t fallen asleep.”

  I chuckle. “Possibly. She was on the bed when I left her.”

  He arches a brow. “You didn’t waste much time.”

  “Jealous because you weren’t with us?”

  Galen shakes his head. “It’s of no consequence to me. She isn’t mine. If Calla is interested in more from me, I am happy to indulge her either alone or with another.”

  I tap the table. “Nothing happened. There are more pressing matters. I’m surprised you thought I’d waste time on sex.”

  “Leander, I am surprised you let Calla out of your sight.”

  I chew my lip, sharing his concern. I have waited here, lost in thought. Even Mara hasn’t arrived yet. “Do you think we should go back to her?”

  “How long has it been?”

  I glance up at the clock ticking on the wall. “An hour. Maybe longer.”

  Galen swears under his breath. “You should have waited. What if she’s wandering the stronghold alone? Something triggers her magic? Or worse…”

  I rub both hands down my face. I’m exhausted and not thinking clearly. To me, Calla has become an ordinary girl in my care. But I’ve also seen her wild and unleashed.

  “Shit.” I stand. “Maybe Rohan has found her? He isn’t here yet.”

  The door clicks closed again. “Found Mara? One of the generals just told me she has an urgent matter to attend to before dinner.” Rohan asks as he stands in the doorway.

  He looks a world away from the man who arrived at the stronghold with me earlier. As we all do. Clean, dressed to match our station but bearing scars from our time together. Now we’re together but also parted by who we are.

  “That urgent matter better hadn’t be Calla,” I mutter, stomach knotting.

  “What do you mean?” Rohan steps forward. “Where is she?”

  “Leander left her in his bedroom to dress.”

  Rohan’s mouth thins. “Seriously? You screwed her already?”

  “Don’t be so fucking impertinent,” I snap back. “I told my servant girl to bring Calla here when she’s ready.”

  Rohan lifts his eyes skywards. “For fuck’s sake. We need to find her now. Before anybody else does.”

  26

  CALLA

  My head lolls as the hour passes. Is anybody going to come in and introduce themselves? A general or high sorcerer, or somebody important? If they don’t arrive soon, I’ll be asleep face down in the remains of my food. Devin’s loudness helps keep me awake.

  “I don’t think anybody is coming,” I say.

  The girl looks at me curiously. “No. This is just supper. Weren’t you at the recruits’ reception earlier?”

  “No, because Calla was in the High Lord’s bed!” calls out the arsehole opposite me, and I sink lower, wishing I could sink right under the table.

  “She already explained,” says Devin in a warning voice. “Calla was running an errand.”

  “Pfft.” Jared waves a hand. “Of course. I bet I can imagine what kind of ‘errand’.” The way he licks his lips adds a reminder of Thomas and I tense.

  “I was late to the stronghold,” I murmured.

  “So you haven’t even seen your quarters yet?”

  This conversation is too much and panics me. They’re right. Where do I sleep? Despite wanting to get away from this room, I now want my protectors back. But they did their job. Found me. Brought me here.

  Stars, what if I do end up in the dungeon?

  Devin places a hand on my arm. “You okay, Calla?”

  I turn my head and focus on his face. I drank more wine than I realised. People around begin to leave the hall and I chew a nail as I watch. The four I’ve spoken to prepare to leave too.

  I can’t leave. I don’t know where the hell I’m going.

  “Are you sure everything’s okay, Calla?” asks Devin as he stands.

  “I’m fine. A bit disoriented. Not sure where to go,” I admit.

  “Too much wine, huh?” He grins and offers his hand. “I’ll accompany you to the sorcerers’ quarters. You are a magic user, right? You didn’t say that to shut them up?”

  I pull at my dress. “No armour here. Not a fighter.”

  Devin helps me to my feet, and we join those leaving the dining hall.

  Some people turn left, the others right, and their shoes and boots tap along the tiles. I hesitate.

  “You really don’t know where you’re going, do you? What’s the story?” asks Devin.

  “I said I was late. The people who brought me from my town lost their way on our journey.”

  He splutters a laugh. “Ouch. I hope they don’t choose you to join with their battalion if they can’t follow a simple route home.”

  I smile weakly. “They tried their best.”

  What would the three think about me talking about them like this? Or the others if they knew exactly who brought me here and who I am?

  We walk along a quieter hallway where people disappear up staircases or into rooms. At this rate, we’ll reach the building’s opposite end, and I won’t know where I’m supposed to be. This was unfair. Why hasn’t one of my three guardians appeared to help me?

  Devin staggers as someone slams into him from behind. He spins around. I turn and see Jared from dinner who has his face in Devin’s. “You won’t survive the training, Ebon. We guarantee it.”

  The two are equal height, although Jared eclipses Devin’s wiry elven figure with his bulk. Jared stands alongside, face filled with mirth.

  Devin doesn’t return the aggression e
ither. “Sure.” He turns to keep walking, and I hurry to catch up. His face has darkened slightly, and a hand curls around something beneath his tunic.

  “The Lux will finish you even if we don’t!” calls Riley.

  In a blur of movement, Devin appears behind Riley and catches us all by surprise as he seizes him from behind. Riley’s eyes widen as a slim, muscular arm curls around his neck, a dinner knife blade to his throat.

  “You asked what I was. I’m an assassin,” hisses Devin. “And I’m fucking good at what I do.”

  I share the doubt I see flicker in Riley’s eyes. Would Devin actually cut him? There must be incidents where those training in the stronghold injure each other. Jared is worried enough to keep away and not defend his friend.

  “Let me go,” Riley snarls.

  “Let him go, recruit,” says a voice from behind me.

  Leander strides past, Rohan at his side, and I blink at them. Devin releases Riley and steps back, slipping the knife back into his pocket.

  “We save the sparring for training days. Go to your quarters. Now.” Leander’s harsh tones are like that of a father scolding a child, and I brace myself for the same treatment.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Riley and Jared scuttle away. Devin pauses and stares between me, the High Lord, and the lightbringer. He shows no fear, just bright-eyed interest.

  “Run along, boy,” says Rohan and shoos with his hand.

  Devin turns and saunters away. Rohan and Leander exchange looks. “Is he Ebon?” asks Rohan. “I need to talk to Galen about why more elves have been brought here.”

  “He isn’t,” I say. “He told me.”

  Leander continues to stare after him, then turns to me. “Where did you go, Calla? You weren’t supposed to mingle with other recruits until you’d met Mara, and she decided the path you must take. If somebody realises what you are, you’re in danger.”

  “I didn’t choose to go, Leander.” Mentioning Saskia’s involvement may not be prudent right now.

  We’ve attracted the attention of stragglers and two girls walking by double take, one whispering about the important men.

  Leander glances at them and steps closer. “Calla. At the stronghold, you must call me High Lord.”

  I laugh at his words but his look remains stern. “Are you serious?”

  “You’re a low-born recruit,” adds Rohan. “Like Leander says, some in the stronghold won’t accept you. Even less so if you’re overfamiliar with a stronghold leader.”

  “Right.” I clench my jaw. “So what are you going to do to prove I’m not ‘familiar’ with you? Lock me in a dungeon, like the rumours say?”

  “Rumours?” asks Rohan sharply. “People are already talking about a shadowmancer?”

  Leander’s mouth thins. “This isn’t good. We have to keep her away from people. Rohan, come with me. I’ll take her from here.”

  “The dungeon?” I say. “Really?”

  “No. We must meet with Mara and then you can stay in my quarters until we decide what to do, under guard if necessary.”

  “At the High Lord’s command?” I ask with snark.

  “Yes.” His new attitude fazes me. Is this because he’s returned and is in his old role? “You’re safest there, Calla. Away from people.”

  “But are you?”

  He chuckles. “The day I found you, I said I wasn’t scared of your magic. I’m still not. But Rohan should come with us, in case we need him.”

  “For what?”

  “You’re unpredictable, Calla,” says Rohan quietly. “Your magic breaks out at random times. I can counteract it.”

  “When I’m scared,” I protest. “I’m not scared of Leander. Or you.”

  But doubt creeps in. Was Galen the one keeping me safe from their intentions? His words about seeking a daughter of shadow come back to me. Are their motives not what they told me?

  Leander straightens. “We will watch you tonight. Both of us. But now—Mara.”

  As we walk away, my heart speeds. They protected me on the journey here, but this doesn’t feel like protection anymore.

  27

  CALLA

  The room is lit by candles placed in sconces along the walls casting shadows across the tall ceiling. Tapestries as rich as this I saw on my walk between the Silvercrest quarters and stronghold cover the walls, and the room smells of leather from the skinned rugs beneath my feet.

  A woman sits at the head of the table. She stands as I walk into the room and steps into the centre. Even without knowing who she is, this woman would intimidate me. She's as tall as Leander and her defined muscles are visible at the edge of her tunic. She doesn't wear robes, instead a leather jerkin tight across her large breasts, edged in blue and red. She wears leather pants that match the other men, designed for functionality and not appearance. A silver bracelet wraps around her arm, halfway to her elbow, but that's all the jewellery she wears.

  This must be Mara.

  She steps forward and even though I intended not to stare, I can't help it. Her skin colour borders on an unnatural paleness, made more prominent by her deep blue eyes. Royalty are pale, and blue-blooded, but this woman looks as if she's never seen the sun. Her hair is thick and blonde, but with a hue that reminds me of Galen. I cast a glance across Mara's features. Is she elven or human?

  Mara doesn't speak to me, and I force a smile that isn't returned. She heads back to her seat and sits. I break my reverie and look at the others around the table, who also stand. Leander is resplendent in his dark shirt, partially open and hanging loose over his dark leather pants. He's closer in appearance to the man who plucked me from my gaol cell; the one who demanded I call him High Lord.

  Rohan who stands beside him, figure stiff as he holds his arms behind his back. The Rohan I met in town, the one who accompanied me here, is nothing like the one I'm looking at now. In this moment, I understand why the girls I know turn into giggling messes when they meet lightbringers.

  I also understand how easily they're seduced by them. His proud stance matches the glittering gold armour he now wears. I find this strange, considering he needed armour on our journey. His gold pauldrons catch the light, and there's a gap where gold chainmail ends in a moulded breastplate.

  His eyes remain ahead, not looking at me, and I'm unsure whether to be annoyed or upset. His hair shines blond again, and his sculpted features are free from dirt.

  Galen stands closer to Mara, and now they're beside each other I spot similarities. Her face may not be as angular, nor her ears shaped with the pointed elven way, but she's not entirely as human as the other two men.

  The silence around doesn't help my nerves as I pick at the sleeve of my unfamiliar garb. Galen throws a smile my way and nods, infusing me with a little calm. I glance at Leander whose eyes remain on Mara's. He’s troubled.

  "This is the girl you brought from Westdale?" she asks. Mara's voice doesn't share the lightness that Saskia’s did yesterday, and her suspicion is clear.

  "Yes, ma'am," says Rohan. "This is the daughter of shadow."

  At his words, I ready myself to run from the room. Thanks, Rohan.

  "The?" Mara laughs softly. "A, not the, daughter. I would know if she were Lyra’s daughter."

  I turn my eyes to Leander in confusion as my chest tightens. "Who?"

  Mara turns her blue eyes to me in disdain. "Lyra. The Ebon queen who seeks to destroy our kingdom with her foul magic. The creature who killed my father."

  Every word spoken to me over the last few days contradicts anything I've heard in my youth, of stories told at school or as bedtime tales. Dragons died. The kingdom's battle is with an evil queen who's weakening. We’ve been lied to—our king is not winning the war.

  "Where are the dragons?" I ask.

  Mara snaps her head back. "Are you addressing me?"

  I side glance Galen who nods. "Yes. Sorry. This is new to me." I rub a hand across my dress bodice where it digs into my swelling breasts. I straighten. "But I'm here to serve in t
he kingdom's cause."

  Mara's laugh bounces from the high walls and fills the void. "That's what he hopes. Correct, Galen?"

  "Yes. I am sure she will, with proper training."

  Mara strides over and looks down her nose at me. "I told Galen that I should kill you."

  I grab the back of the chair I'm close to and take a shifty look at the men standing either side of the door. These are guards, much the same as the ones we met when we entered yesterday.

  Rohan is closest to me, but he continues to stare ahead, jaw set hard.

  What is this?

  "But I won't." The smile she graces me with doesn't support her words. Distrust lives in her eyes.

  "Because she is not shadow at heart." Galen speaks softly and places a hand on Mara's.

  She snatches it away. "I listened to you once before, and it cost lives."

  "This is different. Calla has light in her heart."

  "And shadow in her soul." Mara watches me impassively. "Correct?"

  "Yes, she can perform shadow magic but this is why I sought her,” Leander replies.

  I'm not the only one to snap my head around in surprise at Leander's words.

  "You knew?" asks Rohan. "This is why you took Calla?"

  "We all knew, Rohan," replies Galen.

  "Yes, but Leander implies he knew before we took her."

  "I suspected when Galen told me about the girl with the dragon. I knew the daughter of shadow would be unable to control her powers the older she got and that we needed to take her. Why else do you think I rescued her?"

  "I asked you and myself that question many times, High Lord," retorts Rohan.

  “I need her.” Leander gestures at me to sit, and I cringe as the scraping chair echoes around the chamber. "Each scouting party has a mixture of people. I lead the court but am training to be a commander."

  "Stupid idea," puts in Mara, and he ignores her.

  "In my army, I need strong warriors and skilled sorcerers. Keen marksmen and those who can stay out of sight to scout. You know that we recruit from the towns."