“But once we were here, you begged us to stay,” I murmured. “Pleaded. Forced us even.”
“I was trying to scare you away,” she admitted. “When the kingdom’s magic died, I thought you were dead as well. My heart broke beyond repair. The kind knight I’d never met but had loved so intimately had died. But then…you were there. Alive. Not well, but alive. I was confused. I knew I had to protect you again, but I couldn’t beg you to leave. Not in front of the Civium. It would reveal how I felt. A bias I could not have as queen. So I tried to scare you. I told you of the terrors and monstrous obstacles. Yet, despite my best efforts, the Watchmaker put the fear of the Lord into you and you stayed. Now more than ever, you four, particularly you, are in danger. The curse—”
“You talk about the curse like it has feelings and intentions,” I interjected.
The queen screwed up her face. “Yes…and no. It is sentient magic, a cloud hovering over me, manipulating events to complete its purpose. Never overtly or directly, but subtly. You will never see the curse manifested into a physical form, but it will influence events and the people around me. It aligns all to fit its needs. It has even influenced me. In the choices I make, the actions of others. I did my sister wrong and she sought revenge. She sowed fear in my people until the majority fled. I dismantled the defenders to protect you from the curse and protect the kingdom’s magic from the witch, but in so doing, undid the magic and returned the flow of time. Don’t you see? Dembroch’s timelessness was meant to protect me, but my choices have undone it, and the curse approaches unhindered. By next day, the kingdom that has stood for millennia will fall, the island will crumble into the sea, and anyone who has not abandoned me will perish.”
“I won’t let that happen,” I insisted.
“You can’t stop it,” the queen said miserably. “No one can. I see it more clearly than ever. Freewill is an illusion. The future is immutable. This curse is unstoppable. It has taken everything from me, everyone I love.” She inhaled deeply, fighting off more tears. “My father. My mother. My sister. My king. My people. I can’t bear to have it take you, too. I…I care for you too much.”
At last, the truth. And it wasn’t anything like I’d imagined. All these years, I had thought the queen was irritated by me or hated me. But in truth, she had loved me as I had loved her. Hundreds of thousands of miles apart and we’d wanted each other. So much so, that I’d dreamt of finding her every day while she had fought to keep me away so I would not become another victim of her curse. So that I would live.
“No one has ever loved me that much,” I whispered.
The queen put a tender hand on my cheek.
“I loved you, Sir Nicholas,” she said with all the honesty this world could possibly have. “We have known each other for only a day, but I have known your heart for years. And I cannot have you die for me. That is why I cannot love you now.”
My heart swelled. My queen—she loved me, even if she wouldn’t let herself. It was as though she were locked in a cage by her curse and did not dare try to escape.
Suddenly, I remembered the words of the mage: “…break the curse, free the sister.”
Right there, right in front of me, was the queen, a sister of the witch, trapped by her curse. And that, truly, was my quest. I had to heal her heart and free her from the curse.
“I promise you,” I said, my heart beating confidently, “I will break your curse. I will save your kingdom.”
“Sir Nicholas, you will not have a choice. The curse cares not about your steadfastness. Even if you do not run and stand by me, you will have your life taken from you by forces you cannot control or stop—”
I looked her in the eye, meaning every word.
“My queen,” I said. “I am your knight. Maybe not in title, but in conscience. It is my duty to aid you. It always has been. And it is not your job to protect me. It is mine to protect you. I will save your kingdom and I will not fail. I will not die. No curse will stand in my way. Because I will do it for duty and for honor. And, truly, because I will do it for you so that one day, you can love again without the fear of losing anyone else.”
It was a bold promise, but I meant it wholeheartedly.
We were very close. I could see that, in the queen’s eyes, she believed every word I said, and she loved me all the more for it. Her tensions and fears melted away. She trusted me. She believed.
Firelight danced off the walls. Beyond the cavern and the shore, the sky lightened as the morning sun neared the horizon. The new light glinted in our eyes, making the queen all the more beautiful. Everything felt like a dream. I wanted nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and kiss her. She wanted the same, I could see it. We burnt like a fever for one another. The sparks between us could have lit the world on fire.
And they weren’t just the sparks of chemistry and romance. They were literal sparks coming from both of us. As the queen and I neared one another, ever closer to a kiss, the sparks floated out of the cavern to a stone plinth that had risen from the pebbled shore. On the top of the rock, the sparks ignited, becoming a crimson fire as strong and bright as true love.
The fourth flame of Dembroch’s magic was lit. And what was written on the stone? Caritas of course. A love deeper than any familial bond or chaste compassion. A selfless, devoted, unending, true love that dared to stand against the coming storm.
CHAPTER 35:
Dawn of Dembroch’s Last Day
Dawn broke over the isles of Dembroch. It was the kingdom’s last day and few were left to see it.
The seer knew this day was the last deep in her bones. She’d foreseen much of this day with her Sight and knew it well. The way the sun shone on the tumultuous waves. How the trees teetered and fell one by one. How the ground quaked more with each passing moment. How she must escape if she was to live. But there was no sign of Lady Jennifer, her escort and savior. Fearing the worst, the seer hastened back into her cottage. She did not want to go without Lady Jennifer, but if she had to…
Deep below the surface of the island, dragons sought their treasure, drawn by the fortissium blade’s intoxicating scent. No longer able to smell it in the labyrinthine, interlocking underground caverns, they clawed for the surface and their prize.
Elsewhere, the Dreadnaught prowled the woods, hungry for another snack. It stumbled upon a mob of long dead defenders. They raised their broken swords threateningly, but the Dreadnaught had no interest in eating prey already tainted by decay. The monster belched and scuttled on, smelling a far-off, fresh piece of living meat.
The monster’s master, Sorgana, prowled the woods as well. She walked with purpose, wary of coming across any of her foes. She hadn’t seen the queen or the last living defenders all evening. With any luck, the defenders had fallen off a cliff or been skewered by her dead puppets. The queen, she knew, would be hers shortly. But what if the defenders were still alive? Well, it was no matter. Her tasks would be completed soon and, whether the defenders were living or dead, they would be unable to stop the witch.
◆◆◆
Emily, daughter of the seer, was the youngest of any on the island. She sat on her bed, packed for the journey, awaiting word from her mother.
You didn’t have to look too hard at Emily to know she was scared. Like her mother, she had seen glimpses of this day and knew the meaning of these tremors and the way the sun reflected into her room. If only her father had been there to console her. But she knew where he was.
A shadow passed Emily’s window. She glanced over and shrieked. A revolting woman, young but of dark demeanor, was peering through her window, staring at her. As Emily watched, the woman melted through the wall and into her room.
“Such a sweet, sweet girl, filled with such dread,” the witch simpered. “What terrifies you so? Tell me, my sweet. Or better yet…show me.”
The witch dropped a blanket of green light over Emily. The little girl screamed as the dread in her heart, the nightmarish visions from the Sight, leapt out of her. It was
all around her, assaulting her over and over. Her father’s death. The desolation of the kingdom. The suffering of the remaining people. Sorgana relished in it as Emily screamed. The room darkened. Blood ran like lightning strikes down the walls.
The door to Emily’s room shook in its frame. The seer cried for her daughter, but she could not get in to protect her.
As Emily cried and her mother helplessly tried to reach her, a black spark flew from Sorgana. It hung in the air, circling lazily as it doubled and tripled, creating a ball of dark flurries.
Cackling in delight, the witch snapped her fingers and Emily disappeared. At the same instant, the door finally broke open.
“Where is my daughter?!” the seer cried in horror, her glassy eyes wide, her flyaway hair standing on end.
“She is mine,” the witch replied. “An incentive for you to follow my commands.”
“Do not—”
“I shan’t,” the witch promised. “Your daughter will be safe from harm so long as you do as I say.”
The seer fell to her knees.
“What? What will you have me do?”
The witch knelt too, locking eyes with the seer.
“I know the fear in your heart,” Sorgana crooned. “I have seen it grow each day for the past twenty years. You think to flee, but you hold out hope for a savior, for your dame to escort you. But none of this shall come to pass. Your Sight has shown you the truth. You flee from here on your own. You run.”
“What will you have me do!” the seer cried.
“Run!” the witch screamed in reply. “Run without looking back. Run and never return. Abandon your kingdom. Betray your queen. Only when you have fled this land will your daughter be returned to you.”
Sorgana took the seer’s arm. Green light glowed from between her fingertips.
“You have my word,” the witch promised. “When you have left the island, your daughter will appear by your side.”
There was a flash of green, binding the words into a promise. At this, the seer burst into tears.
“You know the way,” the witch sneered. “Run to the Bridgemaster’s home. Lower the bridge across the canyon. The ferry waits at the docks. Go now, before I reconsider.”
It was a stalemate, but the seer was mad with heartbreak and fear. She turned and fled. The witch chased her into the woods, shrieking in her ear. She didn’t stop until a spark of darkness erupted into thin air. As the seer ran off, crying and begging for forgiveness for her betrayal, the witch watched the dark sparks multiply.
It was Dembroch’s last day, she knew, and it was going to be a glorious one.
CHAPTER 36:
A Snuffed Flame
Queen Coralee and I were a breath apart from each other. The freshly risen sun lit up little flecks of gold in her eyes.
The next instant, my ears picked up strange scrapping sounds, like metal on rock. Then, a gust of wind. Something flapping. Was that…growls?
“Sir Nicholas!” Queen Coralee shouted.
We separated, throwing ourselves against the cavern walls as a hundred dragons came swooping toward us. They shot out of the cavern and into the open air. Not one paid the queen or I any mind. They were after Clay, the Watchmaker, and the fortissium blade, I knew.
“Wish I woke up like that,” I said. “Happy birthday, by the way.”
The queen didn’t reply. I turned to see what was wrong, fearing that not all the dragons had left, only to find her staring at the cavern’s exit. I spun around and gasped.
Hundreds of golden sparks hung in the air. Their source was a flame between the cave and the waves.
The queen knelt at the black stone plinth and read aloud the inscription she found there.
“Caritas,” she said, her voice distant. “Love.”
We both understood what that meant. From our moment as the sun rose, as we’d dared to dream of a kiss, we’d produced a spark.
I nearly shouted for joy. With the queen’s help, I had officially started two of the six flames. My quest must have been completed!
“That’s perfect!” I exclaimed. “I just have to take it to—”
“No!” the queen shouted back.
Hand on a dead root hanging from the cavern wall, I paused.
“You cannot,” the queen said. “This flame cannot be spread. It should not be. This flame’s existence only further binds you to me, just as I feared. When the curse comes to claim you, the flame will surely die and the kingdom’s magic will once more be in peril.”
“None of that will happen!” I insisted. “The curse won’t come to pass! Stay here with the flame. The area around it has timelessness. You won’t age. I’ll carry the torch to the castle and oust your sister. It will all be okay.”
It seemed a pretty solid plan to me, but the queen would not have it. She was a woman of action, and she would not sit idly by while her curse ravaged her kingdom.
“I cannot, Sir Nicholas,” she insisted. “I cannot let you risk your life. I shouldn’t have let myself fall for your charms. I—I shouldn’t love you!”
There was a sharp pop followed by a rancid smell. The flame of caritas went out, its plinth cracked clean in two.
“What happened?” the queen asked.
“The SparkSource ran out of fuel,” I said begrudgingly.
The queen wrung her hands.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Perhaps it is better this way. I swear to you—if we return the magic to this land, we will seek out the means to break the curse, and we shall see if we belong together. But until then…”
I believed her, I really did, but it hurt. She was doing what she thought was right, keeping me out of harm’s way, but all I wanted was to stand by her no matter the danger.
“I can’t stay,” I said. “We can’t restart Dembroch’s magic without that flame. And if we can’t make a flame of love last, who else could ignite it? Who else on the isles has a broken heart?” I chuffed. “Who else is even on this island?”
The queen listed everyone she knew: “The witch, the Watchmaker, the Bridgemaster, Sir Liliford, Sir Rignot, the four of you, Page Trey and his master, and the seer and her daughter.”
I shot her a look.
“The seer has a daughter?”
“Emily,” the queen revealed.
I smacked my head. How easily I had forgotten.
“And the seer’s name?” I asked. “Is it Sinclair?”
The queen nodded.
“Page Hybore’s family,” I breathed. “He asked me to save them.”
“Lady Jennifer has been aiding the seer in recovering her Sight. She will be safe with your friend.”
“But the seer won’t accept it,” I realized. “The seer didn’t want her gift back. I could see it in her eyes. But Page Hybore…he told me something that she needs to know. I need to find her.”
“Her cottage is just east of here,” the queen replied. “In the woods.”
“Come with me,” I said.
“I cannot,” she replied. “I must go to the castle.”
“That’s suicide.”
“I have run from my curse for far too long, Sir Nicholas. I will stand and face it by doing what I should have done long ago: make amends with my sister.”
“You can’t go alone,” I replied.
We started to argue. My heart broke a little more inside. As badly as I wanted the queen, I could see the handwriting on the wall. We were from different worlds and there was too much in the way for us to truly come together.
Our shouting was loud enough, we didn’t hear our intruders until it was too late. One second, we were arguing, and the next, skeletons and corpses were running into the cavern. They surrounded Queen Coralee, dragging her away.
“Run, Sir Nicholas!” she cried.
There was nowhere to go but deeper into the caves. I took off running, a few corpses hot on my tail.
CHAPTER 37:
Dragons, Daring, and a Dreadnaught
The ground shook as the Dreadnaught
charged toward Clay. In the growing daylight, it looked sickly pale and its orange eyes were narrowed, but it was nonetheless terrifying to behold. A billion watches ticked in its bulging gut.
“Be brave,” Clay told himself, hands tightening around the axe. “Be brave.”
The monster loomed toward him, slowing down, its tiny black eyes watching suspiciously. Clay stood his ground, though he wanted nothing more than to run. He had to wait just long enough for the—
The dragons of Horror Hollow came sweeping overhead, cawing like ravens in search of their treasure. The Dreadnaught reared, unwilling to surrender its prey to the beasts.
“Now!” Clay shouted, diving behind a tree and out of harm’s way.
Beckoned by Clay, the Watchmaker fell from the trees, wielding the black and gold fortissium blade like a spear. The dragons, finally able to see their prize, shot right at him. Before the Dreadnaught knew what had happened, the Watchmaker landed on its ribbed, spiny back. He sunk the sword to the hilt into the monster’s flesh, but too deep. He fumbled, unable to get a good enough grip on the handle to pull it out and stab the creature more.
The dragons landed too, biting and chewing and clawing at the Dreadnaught’s impenetrable skin.
Shocked by sudden pain it had never known, the Dreadnaught roared. It was an alien howl made of the tick-tock of a billion watches, the guttural screech befitting such a horrid creature, and the shriek of the tiny woman—still very much alive—deep within its body.
Clay jumped out from behind the tree, his heart thudding in his chest.
That scream. It was Jenn’s.
The Dreadnaught bellowed again and he heard the scream of Jenn once more. She was indeed deep within the belly of the beast.
The Age of Knights & Dames Page 21
