by Callie Kanno
Part of him was still angry at the accusations leveled against him, part of him was afraid of what would happen now that he had been caught, and part of him still had hope that he would be exonerated.
Palti pushed open the council door and moved to stand before the table where all of the senior Royal Guards were seated. Seeing the familiar faces intensified every emotion that Idris was feeling.
Captain Cowan stared at Idris in disbelief.
“Palti, why have you brought him here?”
“I caught him escaping,” Palti admitted frankly.
Murmurs ran through the room.
“How is that possible?” asked Roth. “Did he have help?”
Idris tensed. He didn’t want Jui to get arrested for trying to help him.
“Yes, he had help,” answered Palti.
Idris was about to protest, but then Palti reached for the firewood that was strapped to Idris’s back, extracting the partisan from its disguise.
“His weapon aided in his escape.”
Jerin shook her head. “He is not trained well enough for his weapon to be of much use to him in that situation.”
“I saw the broken prison with my own eyes,” insisted Palti.
This prompted a longer pause as the Guards seemed to consider Idris.
“How did you do it, Idris?” questioned Drusi.
Idris was unaccustomed to having so many of the Royal Guard look at him as if he had done something extraordinary. But instead of enjoying the attention, Idris felt very uncomfortable.
“Iona did most of it,” he said humbly. “She just taught me how to summon her.”
Cowan leaned forward, touching his fingertips together. “Summon her? How… unusual.”
“It is unfortunate that after all that you will just be going back to prison,” Farah commented.
“No, he will not,” Palti said in a calm tone.
Cowan’s eyebrows went up. “Oh? Why is that?”
“Because we already know that he is innocent. Just as we know that Demas and Aherin and Hildar are innocent as well. It is wrong for us to keep them imprisoned just because we cannot find the true traitor.”
Cowan spread his hands. “It is the king’s orders.”
“And the king is wrong,” Palti said boldly.
Roth’s expression became cold. “Careful, now.”
Palti pointed to Idris. “This boy could have escaped the city, but he chose to come back with me. He chose to fulfill his duty, even though he had been imprisoned for it. All of us have chosen to stay and continue protecting the royal family, when any of us could have left at any time. The king knows that his dungeon cannot hold us if we do not allow it. He needs to trust that we honor our oaths of loyalty. Why else would we choose to be imprisoned?”
The silence that followed was profound. Every pair of eyes was fixed on Captain Cowan as he mulled over the situation.
“You are right,” he said finally. “I will go and speak to the king.”
Drusi frowned. “What will you say to him?”
Cowan got to his feet and squared his shoulders. “I will tell him the truth. With our weapons of power, we could have taken over the kingdom long ago if we wished to do so. We never have because we have never wished to. We are his loyal subjects, and his dedicated guards. If he cannot trust us, then we serve no purpose here.”
“What if he refuses to let the others out of prison?” asked Jerin.
Cowan’s eyes had a steely glint. “Then we will leave his service.”
“You cannot threaten him like that,” objected Roth.
“It is not a threat,” replied the captain. “It is simply a fact. The Royal Guard cannot exist if we are not trusted by the royal family.”
Idris agreed with Cowan, but he didn’t envy him the task of saying it to King Nikolas.
Captain Cowan waved his hand at Idris. “Come along, boy.”
Idris jumped slightly and stared at his leader. “Sir?”
“I said, come along. You are coming with me to see the king.”
Idris couldn’t be sure, but he thought that he heard Iona chuckle at his misfortune.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Fire
Idris stared down at his black training uniform as he adjusted his partisan on his back. Cowan had ordered him to shed his disguise, but Idris didn’t feel he looked any more presentable to see the king. More than a week in prison—even a well-kept prison—had left him looking dirty and rumpled.
His heart pounded against his ribs and he found it difficult to breathe normally. Idris looked over at Captain Cowan and wished that he could act so calm in the face of such a situation.
King Nikolas was in the throne room, and there was quite a bustle of soldiers as Idris and Cowan approached. Some of them were being positioned to protect the king, and others appeared to be organized into search parties.
“I am willing to bet that news of your escape has reached the king,” Cowan said drily.
Based on the number of soldiers that were gathering, Idris knew that the captain was right. He braced himself for the king’s fury.
There were more soldiers waiting for them in the throne room. They parted to let Idris and Cowan through, creating a long, disquieting corridor of armed guards poised to arrest Idris at a word from King Nikolas.
The man himself sat on his golden throne, wearing his fine robes and his formal crown. He was so grand and impressive that Idris felt smaller than ever as they approached him. Cowan stopped at a distance of several paces, and Idris realized the wisdom in that. When they were this far away, it was less likely that the king would feel threatened. He lowered himself to a knee, following Cowan’s example.
“I see you have apprehended the prisoner,” Nikolas said in a booming voice.
“No, your majesty,” Cowan replied. “He has returned of his own accord.”
The king frowned. “And why would he do that when he knows he will be executed for his escape?”
Idris’s heart began to pound in his chest. No one had told him that an attempted escape was punishable by death.
“Because, your majesty, he is loyal to you and would rather die at your hands than abandon his duty.”
Idris couldn’t say that he agreed with Cowan’s statement, but he trusted that the captain knew what he was doing.
King Nikolas stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Is that so?”
Captain Cowan went on. “Idris has illustrated the point that I have been making since the attack, your majesty. It is our dedication to you that keeps the Royal Guard in check—not fear of prison or death. If we cannot serve and protect you, then we have no purpose and should be disbanded.”
“You would surrender your weapons back to the Treasury?” inquired the king.
“Yes.” Cowan didn’t hesitate, but Idris thought he saw the hand holding his staff twitch slightly.
“That is clearly the safest course,” Nikolas pointed out. “Why should I do otherwise?”
Cowan extended his hand in a beseeching gesture. “I have been protecting you since you were a child, your majesty. I have served the royal family for forty-seven years. If you cannot bring yourself to trust Idris and the other young Royal Guards, then I ask that you trust me. I swear that I will watch them and take responsibility for their actions.”
A hush settled over the room while the king considered them carefully. Idris could feel beads of sweat forming on his brow, and he started to wonder if these were his last moments before being executed.
After what seemed like an eternity, King Nikolas spoke. “Very well.”
Idris’s breath exploded out, and he closed his eyes in relief.
“However,” the king conditioned, “if I sense any hint of disloyalty from any one of the Royal Guards, you will all be executed as conspirators.”
“Of course, your majesty,” Cowan said readily.
“You may resume your duties immediately,” the king said with a wave of his hand. “Send Drusi and Jerin to me while you see to your ju
nior Guards.”
Cowan and Idris bowed out of the room and hurried back to the room where the other Royal Guards were waiting. A rush of elation swept through Idris, and an extra spring started showing in his step.
As soon as they had entered the council room of the Royal Guards, the captain began issuing orders.
“Drusi and Jerin, you are to go and attend to the king until further notice. The rest of you are to see to the royal family. As long as the traitor is still out there, they remain in danger. I will go to the dungeon and secure the release of the others, and then I will take the trainees to the Sanctuary.”
Every set of eyes turned to Cowan in surprise.
“Does that not seem premature?” inquired Roth. “They have not even finished their training yet.”
Idris looked around at the faces of the Royal Guards, uncertain what they were talking about.
“They will need every advantage we can give them,” Cowan said. Idris heard an ominous tone in his voice, and it sent chills through him.
No one asked any more questions. They all got to their feet and left to follow the orders they had received.
“Come along, Idris,” Cowan urged.
The king’s command for the release of the prisoners must have preceded Idris and Cowan, because Demas, Aherin, and Hildar met them at the top of the stairs that led down to the dungeon. Demas and Aherin merely looked tired and unkempt, but Hildar’s eyes burned indignant fury.
“Has the traitor been caught?” Demas asked his captain.
Cowan shook his head. “Not yet. You are to resume your position guarding the royal family, Demas. The rest of you, follow me.”
If Demas was taken aback by being dismissed so quickly, he didn’t show it. He simply nodded and headed toward the royal quarters.
“If the traitor has not been caught, why are we being set free?” asked Hildar, her voice sharp and bitter.
Cowan gave her an appraising look. “You are being set free because I asked the king to trust my judgment.”
Hildar was clearly dissatisfied with his answer. She looked away with a scowl and folded her arms tightly against her chest.
The captain took a moment to study each of them. “I am about to take you to a place that only a handful of people know about. You must each swear that you will never mention this place to anyone, even the other members of the Royal Guard.”
Idris’s brow furrowed. “But they all know about it, do they not?”
“Yes,” Cowan answered, “but we do not speak of it. You must vow that you will not speak of it either.”
Idris and Aherin promised readily. Hildar agreed as well after some petulant reluctance.
Cowan seemed satisfied. “Follow me.”
They were led up to the royal chambers, which was not what Idris expected. The main room was empty, and he assumed that the queen and her children were in the nursery with their protectors.
Cowan walked through the doors that led out to the private garden of the king and toward the wall that ran parallel to the ocean.
In the far corner of the garden there sat a large boulder covered in vines. Cowan pushed the vines aside and pressed his fingers against something on the side of the stone.
A low grinding sound filled the air, and the boulder moved to the side, shifted by some unseen mechanism. In the place where the rock had stood, there was a set of stairs leading down into an opening in the ground. Idris stared at it in amazement, and he glanced at the other trainees to see that they felt the same.
As they began to descend down the carved stone steps, Cowan offered an explanation.
“There is an underground cavern that originally could only be reached from the ocean. One had to swim under the water to come up into the cave. The palace was built over the cavern, and these stairs were built as another way to access it.”
Cowan’s bo staff started to glow, providing light as they went deeper into the tunnel. The boulder shifted back into place after a few moments, shutting out any hint of sunlight.
The stairs made a series of switchback turns, and Idris had the impression that they were going deep underground. Idris had never been bothered by small spaces, but the narrowness of the stairway and the thought of all that earth above them made him feel like he couldn’t get enough air. Finally, the path opened up to a large cavern with a massive pool at the lowest point. A ghostly light rose from the water, giving the atmosphere a sense of supernatural beauty.
Oh, farmer, breathed Iona, this place is sacred.
“What is this place?” asked Aherin.
Idris heard the wonder in Aherin’s voice. He, too, was overcome with a sense of awe.
Cowan smiled sadly. “This is one of the last known Wellsprings. It is a natural source of magical power.”
“Savion is stronger here,” Hildar said distractedly, as though something was on her mind. “I feel I could do absolutely anything.”
Idris had a similar sensation in regard to Iona.
“Yes,” agreed the captain. “All magical items are stronger here.”
“Why?” inquired Idris. “What is the purpose of such a place?”
“We do not know,” admitted Cowan. “We do not know how they came to be, and we do not know how ancient humans used them.”
“What do you know, then?” Hildar asked sharply.
The captain of the Royal Guard raised an eyebrow at her, and she had the grace to look abashed.
“When a member of the Royal Guard completes their training,” Cowan explained, “they are brought here. For it is here that a weapon of power can be fully awakened.”
Aherin’s forehead wrinkled in a look of confusion. “They are not fully awake now?”
“No,” replied their leader. “Losing their former masters caused them to become dormant, and they can only reach their full potential when they have a new master.”
“But we already are their masters,” Hildar pointed out.
“Not yet,” Cowan said with a smile. “Not fully.”
He walked up to Aherin and Hildar, unlocking each of their weapons from their holders.
“Normally, you would all be too inexperienced to go through this ritual. However, the royal family is counting on us to keep them safe, and to do so we must all be at our best.”
Cowan pointed to the glowing pool in the middle of the cavern.
“Stand in the water with your weapons.”
Idris carefully made his way down the rugged slope and stepped into the edge of the pool, ankle-deep in water.
“Now,” Cowan said, “open yourself up to your weapons and witness the truth of their birth.”
A flash of light caused Idris to close his eyes, and he felt the stomach-wrenching sensation that he was falling. He reached out to catch himself, only to discover that he wasn’t really moving.
When he opened his eyes, he was standing in a place he had never seen before. He was high atop a mountain, and he could see the world laid out before him. His back was to the mouth of a cave, and when he turned he found himself face to face with a creature both terrifying and beautiful.
It was the size of a house, with scales that glittered like rubies and eyes like glowing green orbs. Idris recognized it as a dragon, but none of the pictures he had ever seen truly did it justice. There was an aura of majesty that no image could capture. Idris felt completely inconsequential next to this creature.
“You are late, Marlais,” the dragon said in a strangely musical voice.
Idris whipped around and stared at the human form climbing over the rocks to reach the cave.
It was a young man, probably in his early twenties. He had short black hair and a well-trimmed beard. He was tall and swarthy, and remarkably ordinary in every way. Idris couldn’t see the strength or manly beauty that was often attributed to the legendary Marlais Dragonspear.
“I was not sure I would come,” Marlais admitted.
Even his voice was unremarkable.
“You know what must be done,” the dra
gon prompted. “The time has come for the weapons to be forged.”
Marlais’s face was clouded with doubt. “I am not ready.”
The dragon’s eyes were kind. “You will never feel ready, young one. You must still move forward.”
“You do not have to do it this way,” Marlais said. Idris could hear the edge of desperation in his voice. “You do not have to sacrifice your life.”
“I know you are frightened of being left alone,” the dragon said, “but you do not need to be. This will ensure that part of me will always be with you.”
Marlais laid five blankets on the ground reverently. Idris could see tears streaming down his face as he did so.
The dragon’s expression became firm. “One for the vision of what must be,” it chanted slowly.
The dragon reached up its foreclaw and gouged out its own eye. Idris watched in horror as it set the eyeball on the first blanket.
The dragon’s voice rasped with pain, but it spoke with continued determination. “One for the force to reach the heavens.”
The dragon reached back and tore off one of its wings, laying it on the second blanket.
“One to protect those in need.”
Its sharp claws raked across its belly, scattering jewel-like scales across the third blanket.
“One for the power to uplift the mighty.”
The dragon bit off one of its claws and set it on the fourth blanket.
Marlais was openly sobbing, and Idris could feel tears running down his own cheeks.
“Goodbye, my friend,” Marlais choked.
The dragon chanted the last words of the ritual.
“One for the fire of life.”
It plunged its remaining foreclaw into its own chest and pulled out its heart. Then, with its dying breath, the dragon placed the heart on the last blanket.
Golden bursts of light scattered through the air, and the dragon began to burn out of existence. As the dragon’s body dwindled, the body parts on the blankets glowed with the same golden light. They shrank and cooled, and when the light was gone, Idris saw that they had turned into hunks of unrefined metal.
