Talon the Black

by Melissa Mitchell

  His eyes became flashing orbs of silver. His face grew livid. His mouth curled into a sneer. Small black iridescent flecks of dragon scales seemed to appear and disappear on his skin. Was he holding back the urge to transform? For a moment she forgot to be scared. She forgot to hate him. Instead she watched with utter fascination.

  “Who? Who are they?” he growled. “Those who have betrayed me. What are their names?”

  “Um...” She had said their names so many times—every morning when she woke and each night before sleeping just as she’d promised—but now she was momentarily stunned. “Um. I have them.”

  “Well?”

  “Stefan Rosen and—and Euen Doyle.” The moment the names were out, her skin began tingling. The sensation started at her nose and ears and worked its way down through her fingertips until it reached her toes. It was strange, like being doused in cold water without feeling wet. The invisible bonds holding her to the Unbreakable Promise loosened and disappeared. She was free! It was over, and that was the best feeling in the world.

  She looked at the king. He wasn’t taking the news well. His breathing had escalated. There were beads of sweat on his brow, and the same strange thing was happening to his skin. It appeared as though he was about to transform into a dragon.

  Several things happened at once. Finally losing control, the king opened his mouth and released a giant roar of a dragon. His head started to change, scales began to appear, and his size was growing. At the same time, Reyr burst into the room, having heard his king, and was now trying to calm him down. All the while, Reyr was shouting telepathic commands to Bedelth, Koldis, Jovari, and Verath. The four of them took no time to reach the room. They managed to calm their king before he destroyed half the dungeons. Dragons were not meant for small spaces.

  “There now,” Reyr said, resting his hand on the king’s shoulder. “Control yourself.”

  “We have been betrayed,” the king snarled through his heavy breathing. “Bring me Stefan Rosen and Euen Doyle.” His Shields were surprised but they obeyed his orders. Reyr stayed, keeping a hand upon the king’s shoulder. Koldis was the last to move away. Just as he turned to leave, he spotted her.

  His obvious shock at seeing her tied to a torture device meant one thing: none of the shields except Reyr had any idea what transpired. “Gods above!” he cursed. “Claire?” He rushed to her instead of leaving with the others.

  “Hi Koldis,” she whispered, giving him a weak smile. He attacked her restraints with his hands, undoing the ties on the cuffs, freeing her wrists and ankles. He was gentle as he helped her from the table.

  She was immediately overcome with emotion. This was the same Drengr who tried to kill her at the onset of their meeting. He exhibited hostility towards her for much of their journey, hating her for a crime she never committed. Clearly she had changed his mind, winning him over little by little. The Koldis fretting over her was nothing like Koldis she’d met. His kindness and concern was too much to handle.

  Just as he helped her to her feet, she broke down in tears. All of the fear and terror, all the hopelessness and despair, everything she had felt over the last few hours came crashing down at her. Her adrenaline was gone, leaving her weak and shaky. Even as she tried to stand, she faltered. But Koldis was there to steady her. When he saw what a wreck she was, his arms wrapped around her, supporting her, comforting her. It was an invaluable gesture of friendship and concern.

  “Can you stand?” he asked when her short bout of crying subsided. She nodded into his chest. He backed away to arm’s length distance, still offering her support until she steadied herself.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Koldis, where are you?” Jovari’s demand blasted through her mind. “A little help would be nice! This wretch is putting up a fight.”

  “It seems I am needed elsewhere,” he said before giving her an apologetic look. “Will you be all right here?” He glanced around, fully aware of the discomforting environment they were in.

  She nodded. “Go, I’ll be fine.”

  Before bolting off, he gave her a brief smile. She glanced over at the king and Reyr. They were too worked up to notice her. Both were discussing Kane. Based on Reyr’s current reaction, he was taking the news the way the king did. His face was pale and his eyes frenzied.

  Unsure of what to do with herself, she stood motionless and waited. Her exit might have gone unnoticed, but where would she go with guards everywhere? There was no point in running now.

  Several shouts of protest captured the attention of King Talon and Reyr. They fell silent. The cries echoed down the corridor, filtering in through the open door. The king squared his shoulders and stepped into the shadows, making himself invisible.

  Reyr remained motionless for several moments before coming over to her. He was upset with her and it showed. How long would it take him to forgive her for hiding the Dragon Stones? “It may be best if you wait outside,” he said. His voice was flat. The way he looked at her made her heart constrict.

  “I—I’d rather stay.” She spoke more loudly than intended. “Cyrus died in my arms. I held him during his last moments. I may not have known him the way you did, but I deserve justice too.”

  Reyr’s jaw muscles flexed several times before he nodded and moved away.

  The shouting in the corridor increased and the traitors were brought into the room. The light was poor, but there was enough to make out their faces. Yes, she remembered seeing these two men during the trial. They glanced around with unseeing eyes that had not yet adjusted to the low light.

  “I demand you release us, sirs! I demand it at once!” one of them shouted. “There has been a mistake.”

  “Wait until the king hears of this!” the other cried.

  They did not yet know the king was present, and when their gazes fell upon her, their mouths closed. Kane may not have known how much information Cyrus gained, but seeing her was enough to scare them. The king took that moment to step in the light.

  “Your king has heard of this, gentlemen.” His voice was penetrating. “It was your king who gave the command that brought you here.” The men began shaking in earnest. Part of her felt sorry for them. She had gone through the same kind of terror only a few hours before. Yet it was because of these men, and because of Kane, that she had gone through it at all. There was no question, they deserved what was coming.

  “Please, Your Grace.” One of them fell to his knees. Bedelth and Verath pulled him to his feet, keeping a tight hold on his fleshy arms. They both began babbling, begging for mercy, pleading for forgiveness.

  “Silence,” King Talon hissed. He stepped up to face the man on the left, who was dressed in fine clothes with a jewelry-like cloak fastener. “Stefan Rosen,” King Talon said, “just weeks ago you insisted I marry your daughter. You convinced the Lower Council that my death would leave the kingdom without an heir. You have tried to weasel your way into my household the same way you weaseled yourself into my kingdom.” The man’s gaze widened in surprise. “Oh yes, I know all about your start, of how you gained your wife’s titles when she died. I never considered it worrisome at the time. That was my mistake.”

  Stefan Rosen began stuttering. “My—my daughter is innocent, my king. Innocent!”

  “You mean to say that she is not a worthless traitor like you?”

  “No! No, my king. No! That is to say, I am not, I did not—”

  “Not what?” the king roared. “Not a traitor?”

  “No! No, my king!”

  “You would lie before your king! You would deny Kane’s hold upon you?” At the mention of Kane’s name, both men paled further. They were already trembling. “You are both Nasks! You both spent your time whispering to the Lower Council, planting seeds of doubt within their hearts regarding my rule. Do not think I haven’t noticed. No. Now it all makes sense!”

  “Please, Your Grace. Mercy!” Stefan Rosen cried.

  Suddenly, the other man loudly gasped. They all turned to
look at him. It was a painful choking noise that sounded like he was suffocating. His face contorted and his eyes glowed bright red. Then he began to laugh. It was a sick, twisted cackle. It left the hairs of her arms on end. “How it pleases me to see you suffer at the hands of my work, King Talon.” Euen Doyle’s voice was strange and hissing. “Give me the Stones and I will show your kingdom mercy.”

  “Kane!” King Talon moved away from Stefan Rosen to face Euen Doyle.

  “Yes, yes. You have found me out. My failure to kill Cyrus’s little messenger has put a kink in my plans. The Vodar paid dearly for that mistake.” Euen looked directly at her with Kane’s eyes, the same eyes she had seen in many dreams. “Mark my words you pretty little wretch. You will pay for your interference. You should have stayed in that disgusting rat hole of a magicless world you came from.”

  Her heart raced and she was overcome with fear. It was only a threat. He couldn’t touch her, right?

  “How dare you address her,” the king roared. “How dare you show yourself here! The Stones will never be yours.”

  Kane began to laugh again. “I do hope you reconsider. I would hate to destroy your precious kingdom. What will I have left to rule after I rip out your heart?”

  “You will never succeed,” the king cried. In a flourish of movement, he produced a knife from his belt and thrust it into Euen’s belly. The man cried out in pain, doubling over. Kane’s red eyes disappeared the instant the blade struck him.

  It was like watching a horror movie unfold before her eyes. She began breathing very hard, finding it difficult to get enough air. Her vision was darkening as she strained her gaze.

  A new laugh rang out. “I do hope you are prepared for a good fight, dear king. I hope you are prepared to watch your legacy crumble. I will wipe out village after village. I will take numerous lives. There will be nothing left for you to rule. Give me the Stones!” This time Kane possessed Stefan Rosen.

  Enraged, King Talon lunged for Stefan, stabbing him the same way he’d done Euen. Kane vanished. Both men were left howling in pain, held erect by the king’s Shields. King Talon continued his onslaught now that he had succumbed to his madness. He began sliding his blade across parts of their exposed skin, drawing blood, feeding them agony.

  Their cries echoed in her mind. Kane was going to continue hunting her. He was going to try to kill her. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart was pounding, blood rushed past her ears, and her head was light. The world around her began to spin like a Tilt-A-Whirl. Blood was everywhere, so much blood, all over the floor, oozing from the traitors’ wounds. She hated blood. She tried to take deep breaths, fighting the overwhelming dizziness. Then her vision blackened completely. The last sensation was the hard ground smacking her cheek, then everything vanished.

  42

  Kastali Dun

  Claire woke up to find a fluffy bed beneath her. She rubbed her fingers against the soft linen fabric, sinking in and out of consciousness. She wanted to sleep forever. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw a white-washed ceiling with dark beams staring back at her. “Where am I?” she wondered aloud. Her left cheek throbbed as she talked.

  “You are in the great keep of Kastali Dun,” a voice answered.

  She recognized it and smiled. “Reyr!” She carefully turned to find him observing her from a nearby chair. The movement aggravated her head. Why did her face hurt so much? Suddenly, her memories came crashing back: the dungeons, her horrible experience with the king, the way Reyr looked at her after discovering she had the Dragon Stones, and her fall to the floor. It felt like a lifetime ago. Maybe it was a dream. Why else would she be here instead of her dungeon cell?

  “Glad to see you are finally awake.”

  She struggled to sit up. “How—how long have I been…”

  “Several hours, give or take.” His arms were crossed. He still looked unhappy.

  “Reyr, I’m—I’m so sorry! I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you everything. I would have given you the Dragon Stones when you found me. Cyrus made me promise. Please don’t be mad at me.” He was silent, regarding her with a still face. “Please!” she begged. “I can’t stomach your disapproval.”

  He sighed. “I am not mad at you, though I wish to be.”

  “You’re not?” Hope found its way back into her heart. The tension in her shoulders released.

  “You cannot begin to understand how it felt to believe the Dragon Stones were lost.” His brow scrunched together in painful memory.

  She swallowed. “I—I know. Everyone was worried about them and it was my fault. I was the only one who knew they were safe.” It was difficult witnessing the Drengr’s apprehension during the journey. More challenging was holding onto a secret she wanted to reveal.

  He shook his head. “No matter how hard I tried, I could not understand why the Vodar attacked us. Once I got over the shock of seeing them, no explanation was adequate. I did wonder though, I wondered if you witnessed something you should not have.”

  “They were after the Stones.”

  “Yes. I know that now.” He pulled his chair a little closer.

  “I can tell you everything now,” she offered, hoping to make things better between them.

  He nodded. “I would like that very much. I would like to hear the story from your side, but tonight we are short on time.” The intensity of his golden gaze hinted at something serious. “I want to say what I came to say before anything else.”

  “Oh…okay.” She scooted back against the pillows.

  “The king told us everything after—well, he told us everything you told him.” Reyr ran a hand through his golden hair, pulling at some of the tangles along the way. Was he nervous? Apprehensive? “The truth is, Claire, I have no right to be upset with you. After what you did for Cyrus, you saved his life without knowing him. He was a complete stranger to you, yet you did what you could to help him. He trusted you enough to tell you his secrets. That—that says a lot. Cyrus was not easily trusting. His ability to bend minds showed him things no normal person would ever see.”

  The memory of Cyrus breaking into her mind during their first breakfast, the whopping headache, and their dinner conversation afterward, swam into her consciousness. Did he do that to everyone? No wonder he struggled with trust.

  “Ultimately, Claire, Cyrus was mine to save—my responsibility—but I was too late. You got to him first.”

  She felt tears spring to her eyes. “I—I tried to save him, Reyr, I really did.” Her voice fell to a choked whisper. “I never wanted him to die. He knew they would come back. I never took it seriously, but he knew.”

  “There was nothing more you could have done. What you have already done, the Promise, keeping the Dragon Stones safe, traveling across an entire kingdom because he asked you to, is nothing short of incredible. I find myself impressed on the deepest level.”

  It took a moment to sink in. “You—you really aren’t mad at me?” That was all she cared about. She didn’t need his thanks, just his friendship.

  He smiled sheepishly. “No. I do not think it is possible to be mad at you for more than a few minutes.”

  She exhaled in relief.

  “Now, enough of the serious matters. I know talking about Cyrus upsets you, it does me too. Let us address the situation at present.”

  “The situation?” She looked around the room, only just noticing the finer details of her environment. The chamber was small, about the same size as her cell, but a vast improvement. However, it didn’t look like a typical room you would see in a castle, like the ones bathed in rich tapestries and ornate furnishings. It was simple, yet clean. There was a single chair upon which Reyr sat, a small table in the corner, a wash basin next to that, a multi-paned glass window above the bed, a small fireplace with a grate across from her, and the bed itself, upon which she sat. Despite her surroundings, a new question came to mind. “Wait, Reyr, what happened to those men? What happened when I blacked out?”

  “I was wondering if you we
re going to ask. You never miss a beat, do you?” His eyes twinkled. “I suppose we can start there.” With comfortable ease, he leaned back in his chair. “After you lost consciousness, several of us noticed, including the king. It seems he got a bit carried away. We all did. That Kane thing was…well I have never seen dark magic like that before.”

  “Did they die? The men?”

  “No, we healed them immediately, just after you fell. A quick death is too easy. There can be no mercy for a traitor.”

  Her stomach churned. She recalled the barbaric devices in the torture cell. Those men would come to know them well; grotesque as it was, they deserved it. Still the thought was no easier to bear.

  “The men were taken away as soon as they were healed. The king will deal with them later. For now, he has many important matters requiring his attention. The heap of information you provided will keep us busy for some time.”

  She nodded.

  “Anyway, that brings us here.” He spread his arms wide. “While you were out, the king and I discussed your future—”

  “I get to go home now?” She was eager and hopeful. Dragonwall was great, but it was time to leave.

  Reyr’s face fell. “Unfortunately, no.”

  “But—but I need to!” If she didn’t get out soon, the Drengr conversations in her mind would literally drive her insane. Each day’s headache was worse than before. Even now it was difficult to concentrate, leaving her extra moody.

  “I understand where you are coming from, Claire, what it took to leave your old life behind. However, you cannot leave just yet.”

  “Why?! I did what I came to do. When can I go home?” She was quickly losing her temper.

  “Considering what you know, considering all that has transpired, considering the threat Kane made—he promised to kill you, remember? The king believes the safest place for you is here. I agree with him on the matter.”