The Rise of the Dawnstar (The Avalonia Chronicles Book 2)

by Farah Oomerbhoy

  I thanked her, finished my breakfast, and ran down to the training grounds with Cade and Tristan. Skye was already there, sparring with two other girls. She waved when she saw us and sauntered over, her hips swaying.

  “Hello boys!” she said, and Cade blushed. “Back for another beating, Aurora?”

  “Yup.” I picked up my staff, and Skye grinned.

  Aiden ambled over. “So, the half-breed thinks she’s strong enough to spar with the High Fae,” he sneered, drawing his sword from the scabbard on his back. “Let’s see how good you are, Princess.”

  Tristan stepped between us. “Leave her alone, Aiden. Once she’s trained you can have your way and fight her. But for now, she only spars with whom I say she does.”

  Aiden looked like he would stab Tristan right then and there. But he lowered his sword and narrowed his eyes when he looked at me. “Your dear protector won’t be with you all the time, half-breed.” He stalked off, his blond hair blowing in the wind.

  I shivered at the menace in his voice; it reminded me of Damien’s taunts and threats. I was stronger and more in control of my magic than when I faced Damien at the academy. But Damien was only a student—Aiden was a full-fledged High Fae warrior, a member of the Elite Guard and a prince. If he was going to come after me, there was no way I would win that fight. It was best for me to stay away.

  “We’re going down to the city this coming full moon,” said Skye, dismissing her brother and twirling her staff deftly in her hands as we walked to our positions. “It’s in a few days. Want to come?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes I had before.

  “Come on, Aurora.” Skye leaned her staff on the ground. “It will be fun. Tristan and Cade are coming. There is a new troupe playing at the theater.”

  My eyes widened. “You have a theater?” I had never come across one in other kingdoms in Avalonia. And if Tristan was going, I would be safe. I glanced over at him. He stood with his arms crossed, looking at me. Well, glaring would be the more appropriate term.

  “The very best.” And quick as a flash, she knocked me down.

  “Oww,” I cried as I hit the ground, but I managed to hold on to my staff this time. “I wasn’t ready.” I pushed myself up and positioned myself to defend against her blows.

  Skye smiled briefly and shrugged. “You need to be faster.” She came at me again.

  The whole morning went by in a flash, sparring with Skye while Tristan looked on and barked orders at me as I was bruised and beaten repeatedly.

  “Get up,” shouted Tristan. “Again.”

  I healed myself and pushed myself up, only to go down again. But I didn’t let the beatings deter me; in fact, my determination grew with every blow.

  After a quick lunch I picked up from the kitchen, I spent the rest of the afternoon walking in the gardens with Tristan’s grandmother. We sat down on a smoothly polished stone bench in a flowering gazebo overlooking a little fountain.

  “I want to hear your whole story,” said the dowager. “Start from the beginning, and don’t leave anything out.”

  I recounted my story for the hundredth time. When I told her about healing the pegasus and my encounter with the archmage in Calos, she raised her eyebrows but didn’t interrupt. Finally, I told her what my grandmother had said, but I didn’t tell her about the Dagger, the Book of Abraxas, or the Dawnstar. I would ask her about them another time.

  I was not under any illusions anymore; I knew everyone who befriended me had an agenda, and the politics between the High Fae courts was as complicated, if not more so, than in any of the other kingdoms. At least Tristan had made sure I could move about the castle unharmed. The dowager’s protection saw to that. I wondered if he did it so he didn’t have to watch me all the time or if under his scowl he cared what happened to me.

  “I can already see your magic is powerful, Aurora, but stupidity can get you killed. The water magic you performed in Calos was virtually impossible to do.”

  “I don’t understand what you mean. It wasn’t difficult to tap into. I felt the magic within the water, and it responded to my call.”

  The dowager nodded. “Yes, but when using water magic, especially on the sea, you need to be very careful and very experienced. You are a conduit for the water, not the water itself. You must isolate the water you are using. Connecting to the water like you did was very dangerous—it could have drained your magic completely, turning your body to liquid and trapping you beneath the waves, never to return.”

  I looked at her in horror. I had no idea what I was doing, and I was lucky to get this far. Fae magic was vast and complicated and I had barely scratched the surface.

  “I hear you are experienced in healing, so we will leave that for now,” the dowager continued. “Tristan will help you hone your fire and warrior skills. Since you have found your water talent, I was going to start with that. But after hearing your story about Lilith and the portal you opened, I think we should concentrate on your spirit magic, which is the rarest and most dangerous if something goes wrong.”

  I nodded.

  “What you did for the pegasus should not have been possible. Opening a portal to another world is a rare talent, and usually you need at least ten experienced spirit-fae to combine their magic to open one. Your mother had that power, but even she should not have been able to do what she did for you that day when she opened a portal and sent you through. Now that I have met you and heard what you are capable of, I suspect your own magic aided your mother. It was your magic that made it possible for a single spirit-fae to open a portal of such magnitude. Your magic is more powerful than anything I have seen before, but for someone your age, such power can be detrimental to your mental health. You need discipline and you need training, otherwise you will never be the queen your people need you to be.”

  As soon as I finished with the dowager, I ran back down to the training ground. Tristan was expecting me, and I didn’t want to be tardy and give him another reason to glare at me. The sun was setting on the hidden valley of the fae, and the Crystal Castle had lit up in orange and pink hues when I reached the grounds.

  Tristan was shirtless in the middle of the training ring, his corded body perfectly chiseled like a statue of a Greek god. I tried not to stare as I stood on the sidelines watching him fight six fae-warriors at once with only a staff. He was magnificent, a lethal fighting machine. And although I had seen him fight before, I was mesmerized by his moves. Lithe and surefooted like a jungle cat, Tristan twirled his staff, knocking down three warriors at one time, and he didn’t seem to break a sweat.

  Three more came at him, and he deflected the blows easily and expertly, knocking the other staffs out of his opponents’ hands in the blink of an eye. All around him fae-warriors lay on the ground, bruised and groaning.

  He stopped when he noticed me and frowned. “You’re late.”

  Behind him I saw Cade and another warrior moving toward Tristan. Cade put his finger to his lips. But before I could decide whether to warn Tristan or not, he turned swiftly, knocking them both down, his staff twirling faster than the mortal eye could see.

  Cade groaned as he hit the ground. “I thought I had you this time.”

  “You are going to have to do better than that, my friend.” Tristan held out his hand to Cade and his lips curved slightly.

  At least something amused him.

  Cade pulled himself up. “One day I am going to get you.”

  “I look forward to it.” Tristan dismissed him.

  Cade tried to mimic Tristan’s scowl as he walked over to me, but he wasn’t doing a great job of it. I couldn’t help laughing. Cade was too funny.

  “How did it go with the dowager?” Cade asked me, putting on his sword belt.

  “She’s nice. I like her very much, she’s direct and tells it like it is.”

  “That’s probably the first and only time anyone has described my grandmother as nice,” Tristan snorted, coming up to me and thrusting a staf
f into my hand.

  Cade laughed, obviously unable to sulk for more than a minute. “Most High Fae run when they see the dowager duchess. Even Izadora takes care not to get on her bad side.”

  “But I don’t understand why my grandmother needs the fae elders to support her.” I gripped my staff and leaned on it. “I thought she was an absolute ruler in Elfi.”

  “She is,” said Cade, “but only as long as the Elder Council supports her as queen. Every thousand years a new queen is chosen. And Izadora’s thousand years as ruler is nearly up. Of course, she does have another hundred years or so left, but for an immortal a hundred years is not much time. If she doesn’t choose an heir soon and get the support of the Elder Council, the Elders will choose for her.”

  “What happens to the queen after a new queen is chosen?”

  “The old queen can choose to join the council of Elders, or they can retire to the temple on the Forgotten Isles and join the priestesses of the Great Goddess,” said Cade.

  “Who was the last queen before my grandmother?”

  “You’ve already met her,” Cade replied, a smile tugging at his lips. “Rhiannon Nightshade, the Dowager Duchess of the Night Court, Tristan’s grandmother.”

  Thwack. Tristan’s staff hit me.

  “Ouch,” I ground out between clenched teeth, clutching my arm and glaring at Tristan. “What was that for?”

  “Stop chatting.” Tristan twirled his staff. “Do you think Morgana is going to wait for you to finish your conversation?”

  I gripped my staff and attacked Tristan. He whacked my staff out of my hand and hit me behind the knees with his, sending me flying to the ground.

  “You are too slow, your defenses are dismal, you have no concentration, and you are as weak as a newborn colt,” Tristan said calmly. “When you fight, you need to have complete awareness of the space around you. Use your fae senses, tap into the magic of the ground under your feet and the air moving around you, use what you can, connect to it, and plan your attack. Only then will you be able to improve your fighting skills.”

  “Fine,” I said, pushing myself up, wiping blood from my lip and picking up my staff. “Again.”

  Tristan smiled.

  The Ancient Fae

  When the day of the full moon arrived, Skye told me to meet her at the bottom of the stairs of my tower that night. Although I was exhausted after training, which got more intense every day, after much deliberation I decided to go with her to the theater.

  I changed into a plain blue dress she had sent over for me and walked down the stairs to meet her. It was lonely having no friends here, and I told myself Tristan and Cade would be there if anything went wrong. Aiden would not dare attack me while Tristan was around.

  I heard voices at the bottom of the stairs and I stopped—my name had been mentioned. It was Skye.

  “Aurora needs to get out, Tristan. You can’t keep her in the tower forever,” Skye was saying. “I know you are supposed to protect her, but it will be nice for her to see the city. She’s trying hard to win your approval, go easy on her.”

  “There’s no need to invite her to come with us.” Tristan’s voice was tense. “I see enough of her already.”

  “Fine,” Skye huffed. “I don’t think she’s coming anyway. I told her to meet me here a while ago. You must have tired her out too much at training today.”

  Their voices drew away, and I hung my head, walking slowly back up the endless flight of steps to my room.

  I ignored Tristan the whole morning at breakfast and spoke only to Skye and Cade. I kept my interaction with him to a minimum, and if he asked me something I answered in monosyllables. It may have been childish of me, but his refusal to see me as a friend and equal was upsetting to me. Tristan didn’t seem to mind; in fact, I think he was happy I wasn’t chattering in his ear all the time.

  During those first few days I spent more time with the dowager as she showed me how to use my spirit magic properly and create portals. It was hard at first and brought back memories of Lilith. But I knew I had to do it—I couldn’t make another mistake—so I practiced as much as I could.

  “Close your eyes and imagine where you want to go,” said the dowager duchess in our first lesson. “In the beginning the process is slow. But once you get used to it, moving through portals will be like stepping through a doorway. Reach for your magic and guide it, concentrate on where you want to end up. Choose a place close by in the castle.” She paused. “But be careful—only create a portal to a place you have been before, or things can go drastically wrong.”

  I gathered my magic and projected it outward, thinking of my room and imagining myself there. Slowly a spark ignited in front of me, growing larger and expanding outward, swirling like a ball of mist. From within it I could see a faded version of my room.

  “Good, now step through it. But remember to close the portal after you reach the other side, or anyone can follow you through.”

  I stepped forward, my heart hammering, and I clenched my fists as I entered the portal. My body lurched as I was thrown forward, and in a split second I was in my room.

  I lay sprawled on the floor, but I waved my hand and closed the portal behind me. I smiled; I had done it. No more walking up and down steps for me, which was a relief.

  Another portal opened and the dowager stepped through, elegant as ever without a hair out of place. “That was adequate,” she said, smoothing her dress, “but we are going to have to work on your landing. It would be quite inconvenient for you to step out of a portal and find yourself prone at the feet of your enemy.”

  I pushed myself up and straightened my hair. The magic needed to create a portal was complicated, but it was easier than I expected. It would take a little while to get used to, but I quite enjoyed having the freedom it gave me.

  “Is this your room?” The dowager turned up her nose at the unmade bed and sparse furnishings. “Without crystal in the windows?”

  “This is where my grandmother put me.”

  “But why haven’t you decorated it yet?” she said, a puzzled expression on her immortal face.

  “I didn’t know I could.” I looked around. “There isn’t much I can do here anyway.”

  “Nonsense,” said the dowager, waving her hand—all the furnishings in the room vanished. “You’re fae, are you not? You have the gift of glamour. Use it. How do you think the rest of the rooms in the palace are done up? When I come to stay at court, I do up the room given to me how I please. As does anyone else with enough glamour. You can even change the size of your room—the castle adapts to the space.”

  “I don’t understand.” I glanced around my empty tower room. “How can I make it bigger if there is no space?”

  “Make your own space.” The dowager waved her hand again. The room started expanding, the walls moving outward and swallowing up parts of the mountain, revealing a massive open space to do whatever I wanted with. “There, that’s better.”

  I looked around, wide-eyed. “But I’m not sure I know how to do that.”

  “This kind of glamour may be difficult for other fae,” said the dowager. “But for spirit-fae like us, glamour is easier yet more complex in the way it is woven. Imagine what you want in your room and connect it to your magic, the same magic you use when you open a portal.”

  “But is it real? What if I sit on something I created and it disappears?”

  “It can be as real as you want it to be,” the dowager explained. “You can recreate anything that you have seen and make it solid. Mind you, this only applies to inanimate objects—you cannot create a real flower or a plant, but you can create an image of it that looks and feels and smells the same while the glamour lasts. But it cannot grow or bear fruit like a real plant. Although,” she paused, “a powerful earth-fae could do it. But that kind of magic hasn’t been seen in centuries. If your grandmother put you here, it wasn’t to make you uncomfortable—she probably assumed you would do up your room however you wanted and couldn’t be bothe
red to do it herself.” She turned to leave but stopped, looking around the space. “This room is the easiest to guard and has the best view, you know.”

  The dowager waved her hand and opened a portal. “Try it out. I will see you tomorrow for breakfast. Please be on time—tardiness is such a disagreeable quality.”

  She stepped into the portal and disappeared.

  After she left, I practiced using glamour and made myself a bed. It was a perfect replica of my bed in Silverthorne Castle. Now I knew exactly how I wanted my room to look, so I went around the space recreating my old room. Calling up my magic, I scanned my memory for the way the furniture and the curtains that had adorned the room looked, adding simple touches that made the space brighter. Smooth white stone floors, a dresser with a big mirror against one wall, and a big four-poster bed draped with white-and-gold curtains.

  I looked around. Perfect! This was the most fun thing I had done since I got to Elfi, and glamour had proved to be quite an interesting way of exercising my magic.

  Tristan made me practice my sword moves each day until every muscle screamed in protest. But I kept going. No real skill was learned the easy way. We trained alternately with staffs and swords, and I was slowly getting better at both.

  “How’s your archery?” Tristan asked me after we had finished a particularly long training session.

  The novices were still training; experienced soldiers walked through the sparring pairs, adjusting grips and showing them different moves. The archers were practicing with targets set up at the far end of the field.

  “Not bad,” I said truthfully as he escorted me back to the palace. “At the academy I had a little while to learn the basics.”