Wynter Reign

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Wynter Reign Page 20

by Emmy R Bennett


  “Are you saying there is someone who can help Redmae?”

  “Yes, and perhaps Cole, even Casey, if we can manage it.” She gives a quick stir of her unpleasant brew.

  “When do we do this?” I ask.

  “In the morning, as I have said. You all should rest.”

  “What about the other wolves and the sabretail prowlers?” Thom cuts in. “They’re vicious, and we already have had a wonderful experience with them earlier trying to get Stella to safety. Hard to believe we first arrived on this strange planet hours ago.”

  Isalora covers the pot and sets the spoon aside, saying. “Normally, the wolves do not roam during the day. It will be easier for you to sneak up on Redmae.”

  “But those invisible prowler dogs do,” I reiterate.

  “Actually, since Wynter’s escape, the sabretail prowlers have been roaming around the clock.” She walks to the kitchen to clean up the mess she made from making Zak’s drink. “We must find the right timing before approaching the barn,” Isalora argues.

  “Great, you think I’ll get a good night’s rest now, knowing she’s our first task?” I ask.

  “Oh, suck it up, Rory,” Isalora says. “You have been complaining the whole time you’ve been here, ‘what about Redmae,’ ‘what about my sister.’ Now that it’s happening, you whine?”

  “I’m not complaining, Isalora. Surprised is all. I didn’t expect it.”

  A roaring tiger interrupts our conversation. “It looks like Arryn is home.” Isalora grins. “Welcome back.”

  “What’s that awful smell?” are the first words out of Arryn’s mouth. “It reeks of a grimmroot cocktail.”

  “Nice to know I still have the touch, even though I don’t have my five senses intact,” Isalora says.

  Arryn glances over at Zak. “What did she do to get you to drink that stuff?”

  “Threatened me with a scorpion.”

  “You didn’t?” Arryn looks stunned. “Isalora, what has gotten into you? I swear, this prophecy thing has you all up in arms. I’m sure you could have used a more agreeable approach.”

  “Not likely.” She shoots Zak a brief glance. “He would have fought tooth and nail, and I frankly don’t have the patience. It got the job done.”

  Arryn squints and shakes her head. “Sorry, Zak.”

  “No need to apologize. My Lady is right, I would have thrown a fit.”

  “Well, what’s our next plan of attack?” Arryn asks.

  “We all strike tomorrow,” Isalora begins. “Rory, you and Zak take to the barn and see if you can’t grab Redmae. Arryn and the twins will go to the tunnels with me. Let’s see if we can’t get this thing done in time for you all to be present for Wynter’s dinner feast and celebration.”

  A few hours later, I find myself lying on my pillow tossing and turning. I’m wide awake and still used to longer days from Ladorielle’s time. I can’t hang out here and do nothing. We should keep moving. Rest is for the weak. I decide to get up and make an early start. Redmae is roaming the night grounds, and I’m not patient enough to wait around twiddling my thumbs.

  I walk out of my room to the lower level living quarters to find everyone else may have had the same idea. Akira sleeps in front of the warm fireplace while Arryn sharpens her dagger. The dwarves both hang quietly in the corner discussing strategies, and Zak stands against a wall, as though he’s deep in thought. His eyes are shut, but I can tell he isn’t sleeping. They’re all wrapped up in doing their own thing to notice that I’m standing here.

  “Having a pow-wow moment, and you didn’t bother to include me? Nice,” I say.

  They all look up, stunned. “It’s not like that at all, Rory,” Arryn says. “Akira was restless in that tiny room we’re to sleep in, so we came out where it’s more open. The dwarves and Zak were already here.”

  “I couldn’t meditate in the confines with my fellow comrades over there”—Zak nods at the dwarves, as though annoyed—“so, I left. As you can see, they followed me out here. And now you, too, disturb my thoughts.” He goes back to closing his eyes and folds his arms.

  Thom gives a lopsided grin. “Rory, come see what we found.”

  “What, something new other than Isalora’s plan?”

  “Well, not exactly. But I think we may have a nice strategy going.”

  “It should work,” Dom adds

  “If you don’t screw it up,” Thom says. Dom hits his brother with his hat.

  “Knock it off, you two,” I chastise. “We don’t have time for games.”

  Dom furrows his brow. “He started it.” Dom elbows his brother.

  “Did not,” Thom says.

  “Did too,” Dom says with another smack.

  “Okay, stop,” I cry, “this isn’t solving anything.” They quietly continue their spats, and I ignore them while I glance down on their hand-drawn map. “Tell me what you have sketched here?”

  “Like what Isalora said earlier,” Thom says, trying to avoid another whack from his brother. “Zak should take the tunnels with us. Plus, it might give him a chance to find his sister. You and the huntress find Redmae. If you finish before us, meet down by the river, not here at the cottage. If we can pull this off tonight, then we will make it back to Ladorielle early. I think it’s the only way to get Zak’s sister out of here, anyway. We all agree that she’s probably in the dungeon.”

  “How do you know we will find Nora this way?” I ask, a little leery of the plan. We had all agreed splitting up might not be the best strategy. “What about the others? The children?”

  “Like Isalora said, most of them are already raised on the dark side. No saving them. If there are any innocents left, they will be down in the basement caged like animals, waiting to be slaughtered.”

  “As for Nora,” Zak butts in, “Cory mentioned to me while we were hunting earlier that Nora usually scouted the tunnels. After Wynter’s escape, Moyer reinforced patrol.”

  “Which is where you come in,” Dom interjects.

  “Me?”

  “If you can get to Redmae in time, give her the liquid vial Aoes gave you, perhaps she can help us free the innocent children before Moyer finds out what we are up to and compels them into doing awful things.”

  “Okay, so what do you propose?” I ask.

  “That we check the basement under the tunnels.”

  “I think we should all go, together,” I add. “The sabretail prowlers are roaming all hours now, like Isalora said.”

  “Might I suggest if that is your first plan of attack, and you don’t go with my idea, that you each carry one of these with you?” Isalora holds a few small pouches in her hand.

  We all jump at the sudden appearance of Isalora near the stairs.

  “Don’t do that!” I demand.

  Isalora snickers. “I’m a ghost, you’re guests in my house, and you expect me to not know what goes on under my own roof? Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I merely wanted you all to know that if you plan to entertain this marvelous idea, then you will need to be armed with sleeping potions. You will not get past Casey. How do you plan on taking him down, anyway? He will be able to destroy you all with one swipe of his hand.”

  We stand in silence. I realize I hadn’t thought about how strong Casey really is. He’s part giant.

  Isalora says, “It doesn’t take much to knock someone out, but in Casey’s case, you may need to use the entire bag. I brought a few more for good measure. While Casey is unconscious, you must all make haste to find as many innocent prisoners as you can.

  Footsteps sound down the basement stairs, and Cory appears around the corner. “What did I miss?

  Chapter 27

  Wynter Storm

  Present Day:

  Ashengale City on Dragonscale Island

  Garrick rushes in front while Dad and the soldiers stand behind me. “The Trek know you’re here,” Garrick calls, as we begin to descend more stairs. He gives a stern look at Fran.

  I hear loud crashing sounds like illeg
al fireworks going off, and it shakes the whole structure again.

  Behind me, the soldiers who escorted us out of the restaurant continue to follow. “I thought we were safe, Dad? What’s going on?” Anger consumes me, and the blood in my veins boils with fury. No one answers for a few minutes as we spiral downwards, pressing farther into the depths of dim hallways.

  Finally, Garrick breaks the sullenness, saying, “It appears dark shifters have made it passed the Island’s valley of fissures. The Trek are here, fighting, riding in on dark dragons.” We reach the bottom step. “C’mon, this way.”

  The hallway is black, but I can still see. We follow him as he leads us from the chaos, trailing through the bottom tier of the basement.

  I feel panic set in, but rage seems to outweigh the fear soaring inside me. Knowing I must control the emotions, I work on focusing my anger, channeling the thoughts and letting them fizzle. I want to shift badly, to leave this place, but the walls surrounding us prevent that. It’s hard, but I have to trust these soldiers will get us to safety.

  “Wynter, breathe,” I hear my aunt whisper in my head. “Fight this urge you’re having. Think of this as another test. This is no different than all the other times you fought hard to not become the beast. Now, you must fight not to change, no matter how difficult it might be.”

  “I imagine it’s because I don’t know how to control my emotions yet, is that it? I thought that was why Dragonscale was training me earlier this afternoon.”

  “You must remember, you’re at the most vulnerable time right now. This is but one of the many trials you face ahead.”

  “Dragonscale said three, why do you say more?”

  “The main ones for your ascension, yes. The first is change, the second is trust, and the third is truth. Once you—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it!” My brain, my skin, my whole body feels like it is crying for me to shift. Murmurs sound in my mind—different voices from my aunt Fran. I feel their hate, their pain, their sadness. A tugging on my hand startles me.

  “Move, let’s go while we can,” I hear Dad press.

  “There are so many voices,” I say on the inside, knowing Aunt Fran is there.

  “My dear niece, I do believe you have discovered what you can do with that mind of yours. You’re hearing the sounds of both good and evil,” she answers.

  “Do you hear them? The muttering of different people?”

  Realizing the voices are trying to pull me in, I fight through the noise, saying, “Dad, what is happening to me? I feel this burning. It didn’t happen earlier when Dragonscale helped me change the first time. It’s a different feeling.”

  “Fight it, Wynter. Now is not the time to break down,” Dad calls. “Your fear of what is currently happening, this need to escape and be safe, is wanting to free itself. I know how you feel. When I went through my trials long ago, it did the same thing to me.”

  “Wait, you went through trials, too?”

  “Every Storm does. It’s how we gain our power to control the magic. Not all dragons go through these trials. Only the bloodlines of the first King of Dragonscale do.”

  Garrick says, “We need to get to the lower caves.” More vibrations from above ground sound off and shake the floor beneath our feet. Garrick takes a key and unlocks a steel door. “In here, this way.”

  We all follow him through, and he shuts the passageway.

  “Where are you taking us?” I demand.

  “The back way to Ashengale castle,” he replies.

  The voices in my head slowly dissipate the deeper we descend.

  “Can you not hear all those voices, Aunt Fran?”

  “I can, yes, but they are blended together, not making any sense. Try to focus on other things. This Island is supposed to protect you, but it appears even this place has its weaknesses.”

  “How is that possible? I still wear the necklace.”

  “The magic has been blocked out somehow.”

  We come to another underground clearing. I see more flying creatures, but these are different.

  “Dragongryphs?” I look to Aunt Fran and she smiles. I see other species, as well, flying. One that stands out is a bird-like creature having a head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion. They each have their own unique color.

  “This is their home, and where they are raised. Most come here to live if their humanoid brother or sister are killed. You will soon discover there are many other species that live deep down in these caves to avoid discovery. The ancient wars of the past have pushed many to live under the protection of Ashengale Mountain. This is a small community within the Ashengale Kingdom.”

  “Are we not endangering them by coming here? I mean, you yourself said that the necklace isn’t doing its job.”

  “Quickly, this way,” Garrick says, drawing my attention. He opens a door, and we dart into another building. The entrance is grand. It’s like walking into a skyscraper of a large city. From the outside, it looked like a cave enclosure. It smells of sulfur.

  Two guards sit at a front desk. When they see us, they salute, questioning, “Sir?”

  “We need to have access to Dr. Brekker’s office,” Garrick demands.

  A door opens to the side, and I’m pulled across the threshold with the other soldiers and Dad follows.

  We’re sent through an elevator, and I feel like we all are escalating upward now rather than down. My stomach sways from the motion, and I begin to feel nauseated. “I hate elevators.”

  Dad huffs. “We’ll be out of this contraption soon.” The elevator stops abruptly and opens its doors.

  More sulfur smells linger through my nostrils, as we pass down the corridor coming to a door. Garrick opens it, and we enter a space, looking much like a doctor’s office waiting room.

  Glass cases are embedded in the walls with lined items setting on shelves inside the compartments, and in the distance, windows span one wall overlooking the small community below.

  A lady behind a counter notices us enter, and Garrick goes to her.

  “Good day to you sir, is everything all right? We can feel the quakes below the surface.”

  “I’m sure you’re fine down here. The dark dragons managed to penetrate our island barriers. Not to worry, though, our soldiers have it handled.” He pauses, glaring at Dad and I, then turns his attention back on the lady behind the counter. “Is Dr. Brekker here? It’s an emergency.”

  “Let me buzz him. Have a seat please.”

  I hear Garrick grumble, as he paces in impatience. I look for a chair to sit and observe fish swimming in a tank on the opposite wall with a cushioned bench lined next to it. I huff aloud in amazement when I see a children’s section in one corner. Books are stacked on a table and beside it a box of toys. One child plays quietly while their mother reads a magazine.

  “I feel like I’m in a doctor’s office,” I say.

  “You are,” Aunt Fran answers, “this is also the family physician for the community under the caves.”

  “Where are we? Does this community have a name?”

  “Ashenville Rock.”

  The receptionist calls Garrick and we rise. “The doctor will see you now.”

  We follow her to a back room, where she gestures to a patient area. Like any other doctor’s office, it contains all the gadgets: an examination table sets in the center of the room with paper lining the pad and beside it a countertop and sink. The adjacent wall has a cupboard with an attached shelf, housing a jar of cotton swabs and gauze.

  Feeling a little confused, I say, “We’re not patients, so why are we here?”

  “We aren’t but you are,” Dad answers.

  “Wait, what?” I ask, confused. “I’m not sick.”

  “No, but the necklace you wear appears to be. Dr. Brekker needs to find out why your location spell isn’t working anymore.”

  “This is weird. I feel like I’ve stepped into some bizarre place where some mad scientist will pop through those doors any moment.�
��

  The door opens, and a man wearing a long, white coat comes to greet us.

  “Hello there, Garrick, Gottfried, good to see you both.”

  “Jeff, please,” Dad says.

  The doctor nods. “As you wish, Sire.” He glances to me. “You may not remember, but I know you very well, Wynter. Good to see you again, too. My, how you have grown since I last saw you.”

  I reach deep into my memory and realize that this is the doctor that put a cast upon my arm when I was five. “I remember now, but Nyta was with you.”

  “Yes, she was here, too, helping me.” He grabs my arm. “I see it’s healed quite nicely. You haven’t had any problems with it, have you?”

  “No. Why are we here?” I look at Dad.

  The doctor releases my arm and folds his hands. “Yes, what brings you all to my office today? Does it have anything to do with the random tremors we’re having?”

  Dad nods. “Potentially, yes.” He directs his attention to my chain. “Somehow, we may have been compromised with respect to Wynter’s necklace. I didn’t put two and two together until the attack to Ashengale City above. That’s why you’re feeling the small quakes below.”

  “We’re under attack? But that’s impossible,” the doctor says.

  I can sense the doctor’s temperature rise. He doesn’t seem the least bit happy with this news being sprung on him.

  “Yes,” Dad agrees, “and apparently not impossible. We believe Wynter’s necklace has something to do with it. At first, we thought it a coincidence.”

  “We,” Dr. Brekker interrupts, “you mean by…”

  “Fran and me. When we were trying to get Wynter safely to Dragonscale Island, it appeared no matter where we went, we seemed to be followed. And thus, here we are, fleeing once more.”

  “I see.” The doctor comes closer, peering down at my locket. “Who has come in contact with this necklace?”

  “Well,” I begin. “I haven’t taken it off for weeks. Except for yesterday when I was visited by the Elementals.”

 

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