The Forgotten King

by D. W. Vogel

  The Knight nodded, and his blue eyes turned to Treffen. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

  “Sir Gawain,” Treffen said. “It’s been an honor adventuring with you.”

  “And with you, Ranger.” Gawain obviously wanted to say more but was distracted by one of the half-naked soldiers stumbling into him, obviously unused to walking on two legs. Gawain locked eyes with Treffen for a long moment. “Loyalty and trust,” he whispered, turning to the crowd with a smile. “All right, men. Let’s get moving.”

  The men filed out of the courtyard behind Sir Gawain.

  Emerald and Treffen remained behind with the Mist Hound.

  “And you,” Emerald said to the elf, “will accompany me to the Castle. My father will want to hear your part of this story.”

  “Oh no,” Treffen said. “No way. No castles.”

  The Mist Hound whined assent.

  “There’s no choice here, elf.” Emerald turned her face to the sun. “If you don’t come, I’ll tell everybody how I found you huddled in the basement crying and how I had to wipe your snotty nose and everything.”

  Treffen shrugged. “Fine by me.”

  She stared at him for a long moment. “Oh, fine,” she sighed. “Look, I need you, Treffen. There’s more at stake here than just this.” She indicated the crumbling walls around them. “I didn’t find any trace of Amethyst in there. You know I don’t like being in that Castle any more than you do, and my father is going to hit the roof when he hears I went into the Downs at all. Please come with me.”

  She turned on a hopeful smile, and Treffen wilted. “Of course I’ll go.” He glanced down at the Hound. “What about you, girl? Want to go see the Castle?”

  The Mist Hound snorted and showed her teeth in a huge yawn.

  “Guess that’s a no.” Treffen laughed. “You’re the smartest one here.”

  A wagging tail agreed.

  Chapter 38: Blessing of the Elves

  When Treffen and Emerald emerged from the front entrance of Lordship Downs, they were met by an impressive sight.

  Scores of Deeproot Elves and Druids stood waiting for them on the path beneath the ruined arches. Master Birch stepped forward from the group.

  “Treffen Cedarbough, the Fae Wood owes you a debt that can never be repaid.” He turned to Emerald. “And Princess Emerald. Truly you are a daughter of the Wood.”

  “How did you get here so quickly?” Treffen asked.

  “The Tree told us to come,” Master Birch replied.

  The elves all pulled sacks off of their backs and opened them. Master Birch handed small packs to Treffen and Emerald.

  “Will you do the honor of casting the first powder?”

  They reached into the packs and pulled out handfuls of glittering brown dust. As the first handful drifted from Treffen’s fingers onto the black, slimy ground, he could almost hear the Deeproot Tree sigh with pleasure.

  All the elves followed, and the ground was sprinkled with the Deeproot leaf dust. They formed a line, showering handfuls onto the dark, twisted earth. They skirted the crumbled building and reached the far edge of the huge scar on the land just as the last of the powder ran out.

  Behind them came the kodama. Forest spirits of every kind converged on the Downs. Some had looks of wonder on their little plant faces; these had been cursed by the king’s evil and were now free of the dark power. Where kodama walked, the power of the Deeproot rumbled beneath the soil. New shoots of healthy green grass sprang up in their footprints, and baby trees burst up from the healed soil.

  By the time the kodama reached the edge of the Downs, the black, slimy ground had been replaced by healthy dirt and growing plants.

  A deep rumble shook the ground, and all the elves jumped back.

  With a thunderous roar, the walls of Lordship Downs collapsed inward. Stones that had stood for centuries crumbled into pebbles.

  Treffen covered his nose with the top of his shirt as the wall of dust billowed from the ruins. He squinted into the cloud which darkened the sky for a long moment before a strong breeze blew it all away. When the air cleared, there was nothing left standing. The whole of Lordship Downs was a flat spit of gravel. As he watched, roots of the Tree quested up through the rocks, bursting into a blaze of golden flowers when they hit the morning sunlight.

  Master Birch smiled.

  “The Fae Wood breathes easy this day.”

  Treffen told him that he would be accompanying Emerald to the Castle to inform the king and perhaps assist in the search for Princess Amethyst. Every elf in the party came up to offer thanks, touching their right hands to their foreheads then to their chests in the traditional Deeproot blessing. “Mind and heart, I am one with the Tree.” Treffen and Emerald murmured the response. “And She is one with me.”

  When all the elves had filed away, and Master Birch had bid the pair a safe journey, Treffen heaved a huge sigh.

  “This place . . . it’s been a horror since any elf can remember.”

  “It has,” Emerald agreed. “And someday no one will remember this place at all. It will just be another part of the woods.”

  They looked around the wide open plain with its new growth. A few birds had already flown in to investigate the field.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t find your sister.”

  “Thanks,” Emerald said. When she looked at Treffen, her eyes were wet. “I was so sure, though. So sure she’d be there, hidden behind the magic.”

  “I know.” Treffen tried to look hopeful. “But we’ll find her. And by the time we find out who took her, Gawain will have that army all trained up and ready to fight to get her back.”

  Emerald grinned and wiped her eyes. “I’d be happy if he just managed to find them some uniforms.”

  When they reached the edge of the Downs, the Mist Hound bumped Treffen’s hand with her head. She gave a small bark and bounded away into the Wood. He watched her go, feeling hollow inside.

  “It’s funny,” he said. “Rangers are solitary. We don’t travel in groups. But with Gawain and Trent, you, and that Hound . . . well, it’s going to feel strange to be on my own again.”

  Emerald looped her arm through his. “Chin up, Ranger. No matter how hard you try, you’ll never get rid of me.”

  They breathed in the warm morning air and set off toward Crystalia Castle and whatever new adventures the journey would bring.

  Epilogue

  Gawain Ursinus scowled. The piles of paperwork on his desk were mountainous, and a fidgety boy stood before him with a large, fat envelope.

  “Delivery for you, sir,” he said.

  Gawain nodded to the top of the pile.

  “With respect, sir,” the boy said, “it says, ‘Urgent: Open Immediately.’”

  “So do all of these.”

  “Yes, sir,” the boy agreed. “But this one also says, ‘Tell Sir Gawain that Emerald says if he doesn’t open it right now, she’ll turn him into a bear.’”

  “It says that?”

  The boy nodded, and Gawain took the envelope.

  Sounds of clanging swords and thunking arrows drifted in through the window. King Jasper had provided these barracks for Gawain’s men to train at. Once freed from the Forgotten King’s curse, a few had wanted to return to their homes, but most were eager to join King Jasper’s army. They were a ragged bunch, and some of them had some odd quirks. Gawain had learned quickly which ones could be left alone, and which ones would immediately drop to the ground and start eating grass when they thought no one was looking. There was a large lake near the garrison, and it was always busy with men splashing around on their off-hours, diving for duckweed and paddling across the surface. But Gawain understood his men. And when their commanding officer raised a hand and growled at them, they all snapped right to attention.

  He dismissed the boy and took the letter.

  Inside he found small packets sealed with wax, a recipe he couldn’t decipher, and a letter.
>
  Dear Sir Gawain,

  I hope this finds you well. My father says your men are coming along nicely and that he’s pleased with the work you’re doing. Treffen and I made it to the castle, and the search for my sister continues. Rumors about the Dark Consul continue, so I hope you’re training hard.

  We stopped to see Treffen’s parents on the way to the castle. His mother is quite the chemist, and his father was tripping over himself with pride at what his young Ranger son had done. Treffen didn’t know what to do with that. There’s healing to do there, but we were thinking of you on our stop.

  So here’s what you’re going to do.

  Open one of these packets. Sniff up the dust inside. Trust me, and trust Treffen’s mom.

  That’s all.

  Oh, and in about fifteen minutes, go on outside.

  Warm regards,

  Princess Emerald

  Gawain reread the letter twice. Sniff the dust? Why in the world would I do that? He picked up one of the packets. In Emerald’s writing on the side, it said, “Don’t disobey your princess. Sniff the stupid dust.”

  He smiled and broke the seal. The powder inside smelled faintly of lemons, and he snorted it up.

  The recipe was written in a different hand, and Gawain knew none of the ingredients. He’d show it to the herb master and see what could be deciphered.

  He paused, looking around his office, waiting for something to happen.

  Nothing did.

  Not sure what this was supposed to do, Emerald, he thought. But it didn’t do it.

  Fourteen minutes later, there was a knock at his door.

  “Delivery for Sir Gawain,” a boy’s voice called.

  “Bring it in,” Gawain shouted.

  “Um . . . can’t, sir,” the voice replied.

  Gawain growled under his breath and got up from his desk, sending papers cascading to the floor. He pushed open the door and stepped out into the bright sunlight.

  A soft snort greeted him.

  He looked up into the sharp brown eyes of a warhorse, a great black and white beast with a tail that touched the ground. The horse wore full armor and pawed the ground.

  Gawain backed away. “Get that thing . . .” He paused. His eyes didn’t itch. His face wasn’t turning red. He didn’t even feel like sneezing.

  Treffen’s mother indeed . . .

  He approached the horse. Tied to the front of the saddle was a note which read, “No more stomping through the forest. Knights ride.”

  The horse nickered, and Gawain stroked the shining neck.

  In a smooth movement, he swung into the saddle and took the reins from the boy holding them.

  “There’s a mess of paperwork in my office. Get it all stacked up for me, will you? I’ll be back in a while.”

  He pulled the reins to the side and squeezed his knees. The warhorse whinnied and wheeled in a circle.

  “Knights ride!” Gawain shouted, galloping away into the setting sun.

  Read all the books in the Super Dungeon Series!

  Coming soon, wherever books are sold.

  To find out more, visit www.futurehousepublishing.com/super-dungeon-series

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at the next book in the series,

  The Glauerdoom Moor

  Chapter 1: The Trap

  The clock at the top of the tower boomed upon the midnight hour. The echo of the clock enveloped Sai while she climbed the moss-covered walls. It was an imposing tower, over a hundred feet high, and she was only halfway up. The sheer walls were a challenge like none other that Sai had faced—that anyone had faced, really. They were impossible to climb. But not for Sai; she was the best.

  Finding out about the Scarlet Heart jewel had been a surprise. Turlough, her best street rat of an informant, was only supposed to relay information about the grand vizier’s vault. “The vault has five hundred Crowns ready for the taking, down on Highbrow Street.”

  “How many guards?” Sai asked.

  “Only two guards who usually sleep on the job, it will be easy money. A whole lot easier than stealing the Scarlet Heart from that mage, the one visiting King Jasper. Too bad,” he said, “it’s beyond your capability of stealing.”

  “Who do you think you’re talking to?” snapped Sai, as she rubbed her horns for effect. She was proud of the short, white pointy things. It made her feel like she always had a crown.

  Turlough gulped. “It’s nothing personal, love. I’m just saying it’s too bad. The Scarlet Heart is already safely locked within the Tower of the Octopus. There’s no way anyone could get to it. Not even you.”

  “Don’t call me ‘love’ again.”

  “Sorry, Boss Lady,” he said, sweat running down his face.

  From the window of their dingy meeting place, Sai could see the Tower of the Octopus. It stabbed into the sky almost as high as the royal palace itself. But this tower stood alone, a single citadel with slick, sloping walls culminating in a large circular chamber topped with a witches-peak roof and, of course, a clock and its booming bell. Finely engraved wooden beams stood out from the top, curving in eight opposing directions: hence the name, since it did resemble an octopus. Some great wizard had made it in elder days. What was his name? Iskalos? Sai tried to remember. It didn’t matter; what mattered was the jewel. The Scarlet Heart. She liked the sound of that. She liked the challenge of being the one thief to have ever scaled the formidable tower and made off with its treasure. The hardest thing would be finding a buyer who could afford the precious jewel.

  “Well, I’ll tell you what I know, though I think it’s a death trap,” said Turlough.

  Sai snapped her fingers at him. “If I want your opinion, I’ll steal it from you. Keep it to what you know.”

  Turlough gulped again. “Look, I’ve seen you steal and I’ve seen you fight. You’re no one I would ever want to be on the bad side of.”

  “Thanks,” she answered, rolling her deep red eyes.

  “I’m not done yet. You’re quick with your blades and there’s no Riftling alive that can do what you do. You’re the best.”

  Sai played with a lock of her ashy hair. “You forgot vain. What is your point, Turlough?”

  “I got a bad feeling about the tower. I want you to leave it alone.”

  She glared at him. “Why? So one of the other thieves’ guilds can do it? Oh no! If this jewel is half as fantastic as you say, it’s mine for the taking! Tell me everything you know.”

  Turlough continued, “Well, this mage, I think his name is Landros the Magnificent.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “Yeah, me neither `til yesterday. He bought the jewel from a family in Glauerdoom Moor.”

  Sai cringed. “Ugh, that’s a place I’ll be happy to never visit.”

  “I know, right? Well, Landros got the jewel from one of the great old families there that needed the money. Crowns are hard to come by all over.”

  “Stick to facts, not your personal problems.”

  “Yes ma’am. It’s supposed to be a gift for King Jasper from this Landros. Maybe he wants to become a court wizard? Maybe it’s his way of saying he’s sorry Princess Amethyst was kidnapped?” Turlough quit speaking and held out his hand for his fee.

  Sai frowned. “I’m not paying for your opinion on common knowledge.”

  “If it’s so common, how come you didn’t hear about it?” he said, smugly, then instantly regretted it and stepped back a pace.

  She sighed, wrapping her fingers across her folded arms. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Landros has not delivered the jewel yet. But it will be under extreme guard within the Tower of the Octopus. More than a dozen knights at the bottom and who knows how many more all the way up that spiral staircase.”

  “What else?”

  “Probably some traps, a vault, or some special type of guardian. I don’t know what.” He shrugged.

  Sai felt like she was pulli
ng teeth getting the information out of Turlough. Strange, he isn’t usually so close-lipped. But a girl has to make a living these days, doesn’t she? But this would be a big score, maybe the biggest she had yet pulled off.

  She tossed him a gold Crown. “You forget we had this conversation,” she ordered. “Don’t tell anyone you spoke to me about it.”

  She was walking away when he mumbled after her. “Sai, please. I got a bad feeling about this. I’m asking you to reconsider, just this once. Don’t do it.” He shook his head with the sorriest look on his face she had ever seen.

  Sai glanced him up and down and with a smirk said, “I have to, or life isn’t worth living.”

  It took minimal time to get her gear together, and then she was climbing the Tower of the Octopus. Its walls were white and slick, but with her dragon-toe shoes she could slide the small, flat claws into the tiny cracks between the stones and leverage herself up, one step at a time. If she had a good feeling about the cracks above, she would teleport herself about ten feet higher, letting the claws dig into the cracks just enough to hold her, and then up she went again. It was tedious, but better than fighting her way past a dozen guardsmen at the bottom and who knows how many up the spiral staircase.

  The moon was on its way down when Sai reached the top. She climbed onto one of the tentacle-like projections and teleported herself from beam to beam, to look in the tower windows. But only half of the tower had any windows; there were none on the north-facing side of the tower. Curious. She would have to enter through those on the south side. She inched her way to the shuttered windows, ever watchful. Nudging the shutter, she tested it, sensing for any sign of a trap. Nothing. This might be easier than I thought. She pushed the shutter in and jumped down onto the landing below. Perhaps no one believed anyone could make that climb?

  The room was bare, save for a few bits of furniture, a sagging bookcase, a locked chest, a desk, and a huge suit of bizarre, rust-red armor. Sai had expected something grander, to say the least. But there were still two doors. One hung open, revealing a spiral staircase that dropped into darkness. The other was barred with heavy wrought-iron bands and a massive lock that was fashioned to look like an anthropomorphized face of an octopus.