Legends of the Lurker Box Set

by Richard H. Stephens

  Craning his neck to take in the surviving members of the dragon raid, Flea couldn’t help but notice that the offensive had cost them dearly. The ranks returning to Draakvuur no longer stretched farther than he could see.

  Painful Admissions

  Lying in a huge bed, luxurious beyond anything he had ever experienced, and Reecah nestled in the crook of his arm, Junior should have been the happiest man alive. Though his heart swelled with a profound love—one he had lamented over for years that he’d never know, he couldn’t keep a crushing guilt from putting a damper on his happiness. The woman he’d dreamed of night after restless night, softly snored, her soft skin warm against his beneath a down-filled duvet. Her breathing stopped for a moment and she let out the cutest snort. He thought she had woken but she nuzzled her head against his shoulder and resumed her gentle breathing.

  He had never known what love really was until last night after she had fallen asleep wrapped in his embrace, but he was sure that the all-consuming feeling knotting his entire being had to be it. Her physical attraction had infatuated him for a long time but watching her sleep peacefully on the edge of his pillow, he knew his feelings for her ran so much deeper than that. He fought the welling tears that happiness brought, and yet, a sorrow twisted his stomach, making him want to dash to the privy and retch.

  How could he lie with her and live with himself? He had been the one who had taken down Lurker’s mother. He had also been present when Reecah’s grandfather had met his so-called accidental death. Jonas had killed Viliyam after a titanic dispute during one of the dragon hunts. His father had accused Viliyam of purposely leading the hunt away from the busier nesting grounds. In the end, Viliyam Draakvriend had spilled his life on the point of Jonas’ sword.

  If Reecah ever found out those truths, she would hate him for it.

  Reecah let out a contented sigh and opened her enchanting hazel eyes, searching him out and smiling wide. She jammed an arm beneath his neck and pulled him against her nakedness, saying nothing but moaning softly.

  He became aroused but a knock at the door made him sit up in alarm. He glanced at Reecah. Before either one of them could do anything, the knock sounded again and the door handle turned.

  “Good morning, m’lady. I trust you had a good…oh!” Cheeks flushed, Brynhild’s eyes grew wide; the buckets of steaming water in her hands dropped to the floor—sloshing their contents onto the fur rug but not tipping over. “I’m sorry, m’lady. I-I had no idea.”

  Abandoning the buckets, Brynhild turned and opened the door wide enough to slip through, but not before pausing to take a last look at Reecah and Junior sitting up with the duvet clutched to their necks. Brynhild put a hand over her mouth. “Oh.”

  The door latch clicked into place.

  Junior looked at Reecah, her cheeks as red as Brynhild’s. Letting the duvet fall from her fingers, Reecah put a hand over her mouth, trying hard to withhold an embarrassed laugh.

  The sun filtering through the stained-glass window basked her from the top of her head to her pale-skinned, shapely hips. As pretty as she had looked last night, Junior couldn’t imagine a more gorgeous sight in all the world than the woman looking shyly back at him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her under the covers to continue where they had left off last night.

  Reecah’s shock was replaced by one of mischievous adventure as she took her time exploring his body.

  Descending the steps behind her, Junior found it hard to restrain himself from touching Reecah as she bounded into the stately dining hall to break their morning fast.

  Duchess Momme and Jozwa were seated at the head table but Duke Ryonin was absent. The tables around the hall were less than half full.

  Junior walked with Reecah until they reached the dais. He bowed his head in respect to the duchess. “M’lady. Good morning.” He bobbed his head again. “Jozwa.”

  He tried to walk away, but Reecah grasped his wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Junior stared questioningly at her.

  “You’re my partner now. Never will I go where you are not welcome.” She turned to the duchess and curtsied. “M’lady. If I may be so bold. I would like to ask permission for Junior Waverunner to share your table?”

  The duchess smiled patiently, as if mulling the question. She pushed a stray lock of grey hair behind her tiny ear, the top of which appeared pointier than a normal person’s. “Of course, he may. Any friend of the Windwalker is a friend of Zephyr.” She pulled out Ryonin’s seat. “Please, Junior, take the duke’s seat.”

  Junior bowed his head, cowed by the idea of being elevated to a rank of honour amongst the greatest house in all of Zephyr. Duchess Momme startled him as he started to lower himself into the duke’s chair but stopped.

  “Don’t get any ideas of ruling in his stead.” She waggled a finger in his face.

  Junior swallowed. It wasn’t until the corners of the duchess’ lips turned up that he knew for sure she was joking. He half-heartedly laughed; deathly afraid he was making a mockery of the situation.

  Reecah patted his forearm and spoke to Duchess Momme. “Don’t worry, m’lady, I won’t let him stray.”

  Junior wondered at the double meaning of Reecah’s statement. Or was he just reading into it? He was so nervous he couldn’t think straight. He forced a smile and sat down, afraid to look at either of the women. He couldn’t help but wonder what he had gotten himself into.

  Jozwa snapped his fingers but he needn’t have. The alert kitchen staff had already spotted the noble guests and were scurrying through the arched doorway from the kitchen beyond.

  Duchess Momme spoke as the servants placed steaming dishes of meat and fresh bowls of fruit on the table, “Duke Ryonin sends his regards. He ate before sunrise. He’s organizing riders to call his banners. Such is the responsibility of ruling a kingdom.”

  Junior tried not to let it show that he had noticed the duchess’ slip. Though Zephyr was big enough to be considered a kingdom, Duke Ryonin was a sworn man of High King J’kaar.

  Junior had often wondered about the king’s title. High king implied he ruled over other kingdoms as well. As far as Junior knew, J’kaar’s reign didn’t include any other kingdoms. The Great Kingdom was comprised of four distinct regions. The Kraidic northlands where the king called home. The duchy of Zephyr—the second largest territory. The Wilds duchy, far to the east. And, the endless swamplands that separated the three regions. Unless something had changed since Junior had been instructed by the Father Cloth of Fishmonger Bay, the swamplands weren’t inhabited—at least not by humans.

  He was thankful when a servant put together a platter and placed it before him. Digging into the delicious meal, his mind swirled with everything that was going on around him—from being disowned by his family and flying dragons to bonding with Reecah and dining in royal decadence. Through it all, the underlying theme of unrest promised to spoil the only nice things that had ever happened to him. Civil war was being whispered around the feast hall. Duchess Momme’s explanation for the duke’s absence verified those rumours.

  Trying hard to keep his eyes on his food, he couldn’t miss the fact that most of the people seated at the lower tables continually stared at him and Reecah. He was intimidated by being included on the noble dais, unworthy of that appointment, but it was the eyes that were ogling Reecah that bothered him most. He sighed. How could they not stare at someone so beautiful?

  “Well, that was a satisfying feast,” the duchess said pushing her plate ahead, the movement signalling an attentive servant.

  Her chair scraped the floor as she winked at Reecah. “If you’ll excuse me, my husband will have need of a steadying hand, if you know what I mean.”

  Junior looked from one woman to the other. There was a hidden inference somewhere in the duchess’ words. He swallowed what he had in his mouth and wiped his lips on his cuff like a churl. Realizing his poor manners, he rose to his feet and faked a smile, bowing his head. “M’lady.
Thank you for the honour.”

  The duchess’ grey eyes were full of kindness. She inclined her head. “The honour was all mine, Lord Waverunner. Anyone who flies a dragon will always have a place of distinction at Castle Svelte.” She turned to her son who wolfed down the rest of his breakfast. “Jozwa.”

  Jozwa watched her walk away toward the hall’s front exit at the far end of the dais. He bowed his head, chewing furiously. “Reecah. Junior.”

  The noise in the hall rose after Duchess Momme’s departure. Standing on the platform, Junior felt the eyes of everyone in the room. He said under his breath, “What now?”

  Reecah raised her eyebrows and shrugged. A sly smirk played across her pretty face. “I don’t know about you, but I desperately need to wash. You wouldn’t happen to know of someone capable of reaching the middle of my back, would you?”

  She spoke so quietly that he had to lean in to hear, but as he listened to what she implied, he was mortified that she might have spoke loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear.

  Her cheeks dimpled. “Perhaps I should ask one of the fine knights assembled here.”

  Junior couldn’t help but gape at the mischievous imp. If this was the way his life was going to be, he had better get used to being on his toes.

  Not daring to return the curious stares of the men and women in the hall, he grabbed Reecah’s hand and pulled her after him. “I know just the man.”

  Lying beneath the duvet before the sun had peaked for the day was an odd sensation. Junior felt slovenly—like a lazy clod shirking his responsibility.

  Brynhild entered the room again, just after they had stepped out of the bath and were thankfully back beneath the sheets. Judging by the lady-in-waiting’s expression, he doubted they would see her anymore today. At least not without waiting in the hallway until Reecah or he answered the door.

  Reecah nestled under his chin, running her fingers through his chest hair. “You’re woolly.”

  He smiled and kissed the top of her wet head, her long hair, unusually not bound in the tight braid she liked to wear, splayed over the pillow.

  He looked around the room in the princess wing, thinking the duke and duchess couldn’t have picked a more appropriate place for Reecah to reside. Knowing her now as intimately as he had come to over the last day, he couldn’t imagine her being the tough, strong-willed, short tempered woman he had grown to admire from afar.

  Lying with her cradled in his arms, it was if she were a helpless, little babe—so soft and vulnerable. Too caring a soul to be embroiled in the all-out dragon war looming on the horizon. He wished he possessed the dragon magic. Or any magic for that matter. Something that would permit him to spirit her out of harm’s way to a place where they could lie together on the side of a mountain, lost in each other’s company—perhaps overlooking a private lake to live out their days.

  Of course, the dragons would have to come as well. There was no way she would leave them behind. And then there was Raver. The crazed bird hadn’t really taken a shine to him being around Reecah, but Raver meant the world to her. How could he deny his presence?

  Thinking of Lurker put a damper on his mood. His thoughts always came back to Reecah’s love of the green dragon and that inevitably led to memories of his role in Lurker’s mother’s death. The idyllic scene of spiriting Reecah away came to a crashing halt.

  “Whatcha thinking?” Reecah stared into his eyes, her cheeks lifting with her angelic smile.

  He sighed. How could he break her heart? For that matter, how could he break his own?

  Her smile faded. She placed her palm against his chest to put a bit of space between them. “What is it?”

  He gulped. Her immaculate image blurred.

  She grasped his arms. “Junior? What’s the matter? Speak to me.”

  He couldn’t meet her gaze. The concern on her innocent face shamed him. He couldn’t bear to break her heart, and yet, he knew he had to.

  She kissed the tears on his cheeks. “My precious man, whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together.”

  Her endearment left a suffocating lump in his throat. Pushing past the heartache, he said softly, “I’ve done something terrible.”

  She waited patiently for him to continue, her delicate fingers kneading his shoulder muscles.

  “I don’t want you to hate me.”

  Tears formed in Reecah’s eyes even though she had no idea what he was talking about. Seeing her cry was like a dagger to his heart.

  “I could never hate you. How could you even think that? You’ve sacrificed so much for me. Come on. Tell me what’s bothering you. Whatever it is, we can fix it together.”

  “No, we can’t…” He sniffed and looked away.

  Reecah laid her hands on his cheeks and made him look her in the eye. “Yes. We. Can.”

  He shook his head and tried to look down, but she wouldn’t allow it. Taking a big breath, she left him with little choice. “I killed Lurker’s mother.”

  The puzzled look of Reecah’s face twisted the dagger deeper.

  “Do you remember hearing the battle in Dragonfang Pass? That day Jaxon and I found you caring for the dying dragonling?”

  “Yes?”

  “The dragon hunt was attacked by two adult dragons that night. Lurker’s mother was one of them.”

  Reecah nodded. “How could I forget that? Silence’s mother was the other.”

  Junior gaped. “No?”

  “I thought you knew?”

  “It’s worse than I thought.”

  The look of understanding softened Reecah’s features. She swallowed heavily and kissed him on the forehead. “It’s okay. You were defending yourself, as anyone would.”

  “Yes but…I’m the one who delivered the blow that brought her down. If not for me…” He couldn’t continue with the thought.

  Reecah squeezed his face hard and shook. “Listen! You didn’t know better. You were doing what you were trained to do. You can’t blame yourself.” She wiped his tears with her thumbs.

  He reached out to wipe her tears. “You’re not angry?”

  Reecah shook her head. “Of course not, silly. Why would I be angry? What you did was unfortunate, but it couldn’t be helped. It was a different time back then. For all of us. You and I have learned so much in such a short time. I know you. You would never do it again.”

  He shook his head, casting his eyes down. “No, I wouldn’t. I’d die before I did that again.”

  “Exactly!” She kissed him hard on the lips. Pulling back, she said, “Do me a favour. Let’s not tell Lurker. It doesn’t matter any more. What’s done is done. It’s our little secret.”

  Junior spit out an incredulous laugh. “Little?”

  “Well, okay. Huge. Look, I need you to promise to never speak of this again. To anyone. Can you do that for me?”

  He nodded and sniffled. “I’d do anything for you.”

  Her cheeks lifted, forcing her tears to take a different path. “I know.” She pressed her mouth hard against his. Pulling back, she placed her hand on his chest. “You care for people and you care for the dragons. That’s why I love you.”

  Witch’s Conundrum

  Calor burst through the door of the Wizard’s Staff before the sun had lifted the darkness from the main barroom. J’kwaad knew instantly that his trusty apprentice had located the troublesome wizard.

  “Where?”

  Calor stopped in the middle of the room. “On the northern edge of the city, deep beneath the ground.”

  “Can you be sure?”

  Calor shrugged. “The barmaid disappeared into a multilevel building. I daren’t have gone after her, but I overheard two women in an alleyway say that they thought Nelly was going to fall into a web of trouble housing the king’s wizard in the catacombs beneath the basement.”

  J’kwaad fingered the Serpent’s Eye ring, its eye opened slightly in Calor’s presence. His apprentice had much to learn before his magical prowess troubled anyone in Arcanium. “That w
ould explain why I haven’t sensed him. Gather our stuff. We shan’t be returning.”

  Calor bounded up the creaky staircase and thumped across the floorboards overhead. He returned and they pushed into the early morning dawn lifting the gloom from the town square.

  Skirting the cobblestoned commons, J’kwaad followed Calor onto the main street bisecting Arcanium from south to north—his eyes darting to the brooding oak tree that dominated the southern edge of the great square. There was something about the tree he couldn’t quite put a finger on. He checked the Serpent’s Eye. Fully open. Its eye continually darted around the buildings lining the square. Not surprising considering Arcanium was populated by magic users.

  His gaze lingered a moment longer on the tree as if expecting something tumultuous to occur. Aside from a lone buzzard perched near its top, nothing stirred in the twilight.

  Rounding the edge of a tall building to enter the main street, J’kwaad caught sight of Calor; the man’s appearance giving him pause. The blue robes billowing behind Calor made him look so much different than his customary black attire draped over black plate armour. If J’kwaad could keep the trustworthy apprentice alive long enough, Calor would cut a daunting figure as a wizard. If that day ever happened, he’d have to keep Calor under close supervision, as magic wasn’t the be all to end all. Coupled with Calor’s physical strength, the man would become a force who would be hard to control.

  Making their way up the deserted street, they didn’t encounter a soul, aside from several rats scurrying to get out of their path and two scruffy-looking black cats that hissed at them on their way by.

  J’kwaad considered the cats. The Serpent’s Eye irritated him in the feline’s presence. Whether the cats weren’t what they appeared, or there was an extraordinarily strong magic user behind the walls of the three-storied building fronting the street, he couldn’t tell. Nor did he wish to find out. He had an acute dislike of witches. Depending on the magic they employed, they were almost as bad as the diviners of the dead.