by Nina Walker
Once inside, I’m careful to keep my breath steady as blood thunders through my ears. My shaky fingers trail along the cold wall, urging me down a narrow set of stone steps. My vision strains in the pitch-black darkness. I’ve memorized every nook and cranny of this castle so this should be easy. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. But it doesn’t mean I’m not terrified. I count out ten paces until I reach my target, and thankfully, the torch is right where Owen and I last left it. I draw on my fire elemental and light the flame. It will be enough to get me out of here.
There are mazes of secret passageways between Stoneshearth’s walls, and Owen and I had spent most of our adolescence searching them out. Some are meant for the servants, some for the royals, but when we found this one, it was so filled with dust from disuse, we considered it ours. Now it’s just mine. I swallow the lump in my throat and hurry along the path, careful to keep my footsteps quiet. What if others know about this passageway? It’s unlikely, but possible. They could look for me here. They could be looking for me right now.
Around the castle are two thick walls I’ll be able to go right under. One wraps around the castle itself and the other protects the village. I could fly over the walls, but that was how I got caught sneaking out a few years ago. It’s not an option. I’ll sneak through this passageway to where it exits near a pile of rocks next to the lake. Once I’m far enough away, I’ll shift and my black dragon scales will camouflage me against the inky night. I’ll fly far away from this place and begin my search. I won’t return until I’ve found a cure for my father.
I pray that right now, the King assumes I’m still tending to Father’s bedside as I’ve done all week. My mother is sleeping, but even when she wakes up, she’ll still be a mess. She won’t think to look for me right away.
I hear a scraping sounds behind me, like a boot catching against the edge of the wall. I stop mid-step. Gooseflesh prickles over my body. It could be an echo, or something from the other side of the wall, but I can’t risk it.
I run.
I’m careful to keep my footsteps light and quiet. The fire of the torch lights the way, and I can only hope that if someone is following, they don’t have the same advantage. After a few heart-pounding minutes, I approach the break in the path. The left passage leads to back into the castle and the right path will take me to freedom. I go right.
I make it to the first wall in record time. One floor above, the castle guards patrol. As far as I know, there is no exit down here. They know the tunnels, as that’s their job. But they don’t know this one, because if they did, Owen and I would have seen them down here at least once.
The stone of the outerwall is different than the stone of the castle. It’s thicker, blacker, and burrowed deep into the earth. I press my hand to its slightly damp surface, imagining it to be as old as the Gods themselves. Then I crouch low, to where the passageway will allow me to crawl out. From there I’ll be able to follow an underground tunnel beneath the city.
My hand doesn’t hit dirt, it hits rock. I pull it back, stunned. There is no more tunnel. It’s caved in. I curse, tears instantly welling up. Desperation claws its way in, decimating my hope, as I try to think of a plan. I could use my earth elemental to get through the rocks, but it will be felt by those above, or it might cave in the rest of the tunnel. How did this happen? The King or Silas must have known this was the passage Owen and I had been using and closed it in. What am I going to do now? I have no other way out. I kick the wall and grit my teeth in frustration, wiping at my eyes.
Footsteps tap down the passageway behind me and I freeze, quickly snuffing out the fire. I pray it’s not Silas. I don’t want to be alone with him. He scares me, sure, but at this point I’m more afraid of what I’ll do to him. If I have the chance, I’ll kill him. I know I can—at least, my dragon can. But I don’t want to be a murderer, even if he deserves to die. I don’t want him to take away another shred of my innocence.
“Khali?” a deep honeyed voice whispers. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you or turn you in.”
“Bram?” I cry out, a little shocked, and scoot back out to stand. Magic travels through my hand, and I light the torch again, and sure enough, it’s Prince Bram before me. His green eyes shine gold against the fire’s glow, and they’re filled with so much emotion, I have to step back. He’s dressed head to toe in black, blending him into the darkness behind.
“You’re running away, aren’t you?” he asks. It’s not an accusation but an observation. I see no point in lying so I nod.
“Why?” he questions further. “To get out of marrying my brother?”
“Silas is a monster,” I reply, my voice sharp. “He murdered Owen. You need to watch your back around him. He’ll kill you too if he feels threatened.”
Bram twists his lips, thinking hard. He doesn’t seem surprised. Sorrow flits across his features but so does acceptance. “You saw him kill Owen? You’re sure it was him?”
He deserves to know the truth. “Not only am I sure, but your parents know it, too. They’re blackmailing me to keep it all a secret.”
Brams sighs. “I was afraid of that.”
“You suspected?” I whisper, accusation rising. “Are you part of it, too?”
“My parents are very protective of the Brightcaster legacy,” he says, his voice thick with disdain. “But I would never do something like that. Don’t you know me better than that?”
I scoff. “I hardly know you at all.”
“We’ve grown up together.”
“Yes,” I say. “But you’ve barely said more than two words to me at once.”
He’s quiet. It’s not like he can argue with me. All those times we were forced to spend time together, he largely ignored me. And I him. The accusations he shot at me about Dean a few weeks ago were the only real conversation we’d ever had.
“If you run away,” he says, “you won’t be able to help your father.”
I don’t know if I can trust him. I want to.
“That’s exactly why I’m running away,” I say. What else can I do but admit the truth? I’m at a dead-end and I’m not going to hurt Bram. “I’ll come back when I have figured out the cure to break the hex. I left a note hidden in my chambers indicating as much. Faros will find it. Only once I cure my father will I willingly become queen.”
What I don’t tell him is that I have no intention of letting my king be Silas. I no longer care about King Titus’s threats against my parents. Somehow, I’ll find a way to protect them in all of this. I expect Bram to argue with me, to try to convince me to return, but he smiles like I’ve impressed him.
“Fair enough.”
I turn back to my ruined exit. “But I might have to resort to going back up to my chambers and flying away. My exit was destroyed.”
He kneels down and eyes the area with a frown. “So it is. But flying out of here will never work. You’ll be seen instantly. You won’t get far.”
I sigh, because I know he’s right. “Do you have any other ideas?”
His eyes shine in the darkness, the cunning intelligence I’ve seen there a million times sparking within. “I know another way out,” he says, “and I’ll show you if you do something for me.”
Of course his good news would come paired with a price. He is a Brightcaster, afterall. “What do you want?” My voice is guarded. The tunnel grows quiet. The scent of rock and dirt and smoke fill in the space between us.
“I want you to take me with you.”
I shift back, shaking my head. “Are you serious? Why would you want to leave?”
“I have reason to suspect your father was crossing the border.”
I shrug. “I already know that.”
“But do you know where he was going? Do you know why? Do you have any leads at all? Because I do.”
He’s got me there and he knows it.
“Go on.”
“I believe he’s been visiting my brother Dean to make sure he’s okay in his new life.”
He’s quiet for a moment, eyeing me as if calculating how much he can trust me. “I think he’s in the human realm,” he says matter-of-factly. “And I believe your father has been using the ley lines in the neighboring elfin kingdom to travel to Dean.”
This is news to me. I can’t even utter a coherent response. I would have never guessed this. Dean wasn’t supposed to go to the human realm. He was supposed to be exiled into the larger continent to fend for himself and never to return to Drakenon again. But the human realm would be the safest place for him, even if slowly losing his magic would be torture.
“I wouldn’t have put it past my father to have somehow helped Dean sneak into the human realm, not only as a favor to your parents, but because he loved Dean as much as we all did,” I say quietly.
Bram nods, but doesn’t say a word.
“I have no way to know if any of this is true,” I grumble, wishing this were easier. The memory of that night when I kissed him trickles to my mind and I can’t lie to myself anymore, Dean took the fall for me and willingly left. He almost seemed resolved to leave, like some kind of martyr. Why would he have done that if there wasn’t something else going on beyond my comprehension?
“We can’t know for sure if that’s what happened given our limited information,” Bram says, “but you’re running out of options. And it gives you a tangible lead. We can go there together and find out if Dean knows what happened to your father.”
I swallow, wanting to argue, but knowing I will not.
“Fine,” I say. “Lead the way.”
He nods once and turns. I notice the pack slung over his shoulders. So he assumed I would say yes? Or he just planned for the best? I have something similar on my back, it’s not like I can blame him for preparing. A sudden suspicion leaves me cold. Could Bram have been the one to block this passageway, essentially forcing me to go along with his plan? He’s smart enough to have thought out all of this. And if there’s anyone who spends a lot of time in our musty library, it’s him.
I don’t have time to question him and nor do I want him to know my suspicions. So I keep my mouth shut and follow as he hurries back the way we came. He takes the left fork in the passageway, the one that leads back around to the castle’s center, and navigates us through the labyrinth of passageways with more expertise than Owen or I ever had. How much about Bram have I underestimated?
Soon we make it past the first wall, under the city, and out past the outer wall. I step into the cool air and let it fill my lungs like a healing balm. I could leave Bram here. I could break my word and forget him. But I can’t help but think he might be onto something with his hypothesis. He knows more about the world outside Drakenon than anyone I know, what with his nose constantly in a book. If anyone can help me solve this mystery, it’s him.
We begin our journey by foot, careful to avoid detection. The castle is surrounded by vast fields and the miles-wide lake which I would do anything to avoid. Further away to the east is the sea. In the other direction are the mountains and plains. The kingdom stretches for thousands of miles, filled with our villages and people. Those families who are Dragon Blessed are the ones most likely to live in the capital city or close to it. The further out someone lives, means the less magic they’ll have. Of course, I was the exception to that.
But my family and I were moved from our home and brought here. Stoneshearth’s castle, the surrounding city, and the fields beyond are all I’ve ever known. With each step I take away from it, I’m met with both apprehension and relief. The Brightcaster family may have dominion over all I can see, but soon I will leave this behind where my life is no longer theirs to claim. Once I return, I’ll save my father, and then I’ll tell everyone the truth about Owen. Silas will pay for his crime, the Brightcasters won’t have a Dragon Blessed heir, and I’ll be free of their family for good.
15
Hazel
I’m walking through campus the following afternoon after leaving Dean standing there on that sidewalk, preoccupied with my busy mind, when I spot Landon and stop short. The boy looks good. He’s lounging in one of the grassy areas with his friends, the sun lighting up his white blonde hair like a halo. I wish my hair did that. Mine is what we call “dirty,” which is such a terrible but accurate description for the shade caught between two colors. At least I bothered to style it in loose curls today. His looks so good that I don’t even mind how it’s tied up in a manbun.
It’s an unseasonably warm day for October and probably one of the last we’re going to get for the year, so everyone is soaking it up. The women are in shorts and skirts, nobody has a coat, and apparently, some of the men have decided shirts are optional.
Landon and all his friends have their shirts off, and even from here, I can spot the dewy sweat on his tanned and muscled torso. I can also spot the myriad of girls making eyes at the half-naked dudes all lined up in a row. It seems none of us ladies are exempt from staring, not that I’m complaining. A bright yellow frisbee lays a few feet from their crew.
Feeling brave, I smile and walk over, picking up the plastic disc. “Are you guys practicing for your competitive frisbee league, or what’s going on here?”
The four guys laugh up at me but my eyes are locked on Landon’s. I can’t help it. His dimples are showing and those baby blues are sparkling like crazy in this light, which is good because I don’t want to get distracted by those abs. But my eyes flick down to ogle them anyway. He catches me looking and my stomach flips. Whoops!
“Freshman.” He practically purrs my nickname. “Have a seat. Come meet my boys. Boys, meet the Hazel Forrester.”
I hand him the frisbee and plop myself down on the grass next to Landon. He reaches in for a side hug. He’s so attractive that I don’t even mind the sweat, which is kind of gross. He introduces me to his friends, Tim, Garret, and some guy they’ve nicknamed Howdy.
“They’re in my fraternity,” Landon explains happily. “Tim’s the president. Garret is a ladies man. And Howdy’s the fun drunk.”
I nod and smile and try not to look judgy even though I totally might be judging them right now—Landon made it so easy introducing them that way. The three guys shake my hand and turn back to their conversation.
“And what does that make you?” I ask flirtatiously.
“I’m the serious one,” he says. And then we both burst out laughing. If there’s one thing I know about Landon, it’s that he likes to keep things light.
We lay back on our elbows, gazing up at the expanse of clear blue sky.
“When is your next class?” he asks, scooting closer.
I close my eyes, letting the moment settle over me like a warm hug. “Actually, I’m done with classes for the day.” I open my eyes and grin at Landon.
“Very interesting. So am I,” he replies, his eyes lingering on my lips. My heart jumps to the point of heart attack status because I’m pretty sure we’re going to make out soon!
“But I have to work in an hour,” I add, a little disappointed.
He pouts, and I roll my eyes playfully. Landon and I have been flirting—mostly through text—for weeks now but we haven’t gone on an official date. He hasn’t asked. Maybe he won’t.
I’ve seen him be as flirty with other girls in our Chemistry class. And the one time I went to his frat house for that party, he was dancing in the middle of a circle of sorority girls. He didn’t even notice I was there. This chemistry between us is likely a result of his personality, having nothing to do with him actually wanting to date me. And as cute as he is, I’m young and inexperienced. I won’t turn eighteen until Christmas break and if he knew that fact about me, he’d probably run for the hills, or at least wait until January to ask me out. Besides, I don’t want to “get experienced” with some guy who only sees me as a booty call or a side chick anyway.
I have a feeling that’s how most fraternity guys work around here.
I sit up, brushing the grass fr
om my clothes. “Well, I just wanted to say hello but I’d better get going. I’ve got to get changed before heading in to work.”
I stand and he jumps to his feet, wrapping me in a hug.
“Go out with me?” The request is confident.
I still, my whole body rooted to the spot.
“Like on a date?” I sputter.
He laughs and releases me, stepping back slightly. I must look startled because he laughs again. “Of course it’s a date. I really like you, Fresh. When are you free for dinner?”
I don’t want to sound too eager, but I totally am. “I don’t work on Saturday or Sunday night.”
“Sunday is great,” he says, one of his dimples popping in his cheek. “I’ll pick you up outside of the freshman dorm at seven.” He catches me in another tight hug and as he lets me go, I spot his friends laughing at us over his shoulder. I’m not even a little bit embarrassed. Because I, Hazel Forrester, have a date with Landon Freemount, one of the hottest guys I’ve ever met in real life. Not as hot as Dean Ashton, but we’re not going there. Not today, Satan!
I practically skip back to my dorm to get ready for work.
“Hey, there big guy,” I say, reaching out my hand. “Are you okay? Where’s your home?”
The dog appears to be a stray. It’s black scruffy fur is matted and it’s skinnier than it should be for its hulking size. The poor baby was digging through some trash when I found it.
“C’mere, boy,” I say, walking closer. “I can help you.”
He takes a tentative step forward, looking at me with big watery eyes, when he tenses. He barks, the sound echoing through the alleyway, before skittering off.
