The Last of the Firedrakes (The Avalonia Chronicles Book 1)

by Farah Oomerbhoy

  The cottage was quite large from the inside, sparsely furnished with a fluffy green sofa strewn with soft teal cushions and a cream-colored rug that covered the wooden floor. It was homey and cozy, and a lazy fire was struggling to stay alight in the small fireplace, where a little pot was hanging, bubbling away.

  After the initial happiness of seeing Kalen alive wore off, his mother began shouting at him. “What did I tell you about leaving the forest? Without the magical boundaries, it is not difficult for the guards to capture you. How could you, Kalen? What if something had happened to you? What if the Black Wolf had not managed to get there in time?” She paused for a moment. “A lovely boy, that Rafe,” she sniffed.

  I suppressed a giggle; at least now I knew where Kalen inherited his fast talking skills. But he seemed to have gotten his height from his father. I smiled at the short, plump fae lady, who suddenly seemed to remember I was there.

  “Oh!” said Kalen’s mother, wiping her hands on her apron and smoothing the folds of her dress. “Who is this little one?”

  I suppressed a giggle because the fae lady came up to my shoulders and had to look up to talk to me.

  “This is my friend, Mother—the Lady Aurora. She was also in the dungeons at Lord Oblek’s castle. Rafe rescued her as well.” Kalen glanced at me. “Aurora, this is my mother, Penelope Plumpleberry.”

  I gave her a warm smile. The name suited her. “Very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Plumpleberry.”

  Her blue eyes twinkled as she regarded me. “Oh, you can call me Penelope. Everybody does.”

  “Mother, I promised Aurora she could stay with us for a night,” said Kalen.

  “Of course,” said Penelope, bustling around the little cottage, making tea and cutting up the cake. “Will you have some, Aurora?”

  I nodded. “Yes, please.” My stomach grumbled again.

  Penelope patted the cushion next to her. “Come and sit here, and we can talk freely. Kalen, bring the tea and cake.”

  I sat down on the proffered cushion.

  “Yes, Mother.” Kalen brought over a little tray and set it down in front of me.

  “Now tell me, my dear . . . what exactly happened to you? Maybe I can be of some help,” said Mrs. Plumpleberry, turning to give me her full attention.

  I sipped on my delicate cup of violet-colored tea, which happened to taste rather nice, gathered my thoughts, and prepared to start my story once again.

  “Well . . .” said Kalen. He obviously couldn’t resist being the one to talk, so he proceeded to tell his mother everything: who I was, where he met me, and the fact that Rafe was taking me to see my granduncle, the Duke of Silverthorne.

  “So you see, Oblek thinks I am some lost princess called Aurora Firedrake, and Queen Morgana wants to get me out of the way permanently,” I finished for Kalen.

  Penelope looked stunned, much like Rafe had in the woods earlier, when I told him who I really was.

  “Please say something,” I urged, leaning forward a little.

  She looked at me, her eyes bright and questioning. “It was thought that all three of you died that day.” Her voice was strained. “Are you sure?”

  I shook my head. “No, but Rafe said the Duke of Silverthorne will know how to tell.”

  Penelope nodded. “He will.”

  But there was a question I still needed answered. “What exactly happened to my parents?”

  Penelope shook her head. “No one knows for sure what happened that night. What I do know is that the whole west wing of the Star Palace at Nerenor burned to the ground. You and your parents disappeared, and Morgana assumed the throne of Illiador.”

  “Disappeared? You mean died?”

  Penelope looked away. “Yes,” she said slowly. “Although their bodies were never found.”

  A spark of hope leapt in my heart. “But if I’m still alive, isn’t it possible that they could be too?”

  Penelope shook her head. “I am sorry, my dear, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. Your parents must be dead. If they were not, they would have returned by now, or someone would have seen or heard something. No one has even whispered that Elayna or Azaren could be alive.”

  I hung my head, the memories of my dream fresh in my mind. I could see Morgana coming at my mother to stab her. I didn’t want to say anything about the dream to Penelope and Kalen. Somehow it still seemed too private to talk about. At least now I knew I hadn’t made it all up, and I wasn’t crazy. But why had the dream begun occurring only recently?

  “How did Morgana know I was alive?”

  Penelope put her hand on my arm. “I don’t know, my dear.”

  “Do you really think Morgana will kill me if she finds me?” I asked, although I thought I already knew the answer.

  “Yes, that much is certain,” said Penelope. “If Morgana knows who you really are, then she will not stop coming after you. You need to get out of Illiador before she does.”

  My heart sank and suddenly I didn’t feel so grown up. I stupidly wished that I could go home again to my mother. But that was not possible anymore. My parents were dead, my real ones and my adoptive ones. I was entirely on my own.

  Penelope must have felt sorry for me because she leaned over and gave me a hug. I hugged her back, eager for a little maternal warmth.

  “If you want to find out more, then you must travel to Eldoren with Rafe,” Penelope continued. “He is right, Silverthorne will know what to do.”

  “But can you please tell me a little more about my family before I go? I’m still confused about how I am related to the duke.”

  Penelope nodded and proceeded to tell me what she knew. “You are part of one of the most powerful families in the whole of Avalonia. King Ereneth, your grandfather, is a descendant of the Firedrake dynasty, the first and longest reigning dynasty, which began with the first king of these lands, Auraken Firedrake. Ereneth married Fiona Silverthorne, your father’s mother, who was the sister of the Duke of Silverthorne, and came from one of the most formidable families in Eldoren.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “So who was my mother?”

  Penelope’s tone was low and serious. “Elayna was a princess of the royal house of Elfi.”

  “Elfi,” I repeated, trying to remember what Kalen had told me about this world. My eyes widened when I did. “My mother was fae?” I had presumed that my mother was either an ordinary person or a mage like my father. But fae!

  “And not just any ordinary fae,” Penelope responded. “Your mother was High Fae and an immortal fire-fae warrior of Elfi.”

  My eyes narrowed. “If she was immortal, how could she have died?”

  Penelope clasped her hands in front of her. “Most of the fae have very long lives, spanning centuries, and the High Fae are virtually immortal. But even High Fae can be killed using the right weapon.”

  I nodded, thinking back to my dream where Morgana stabbed my mother with the dagger. That dagger must have been one of those weapons.

  “So if a fae and a mage have a child together, what does the child become?”

  “Well.” Penelope furrowed her brow. “They take on either trait or power, or the magic can skip the generation completely. If you do have the potential for fae magic, I should be able to sense it.”

  My eyes gleamed. “Can you sense anything? Do I have any magic?”

  Penelope held my hand in hers and closed her eyes. I could feel a tingling sensation in my hands when she touched them.

  Eventually she opened them, looked at me, and shook her head. “No, nothing.” She hesitated. “But do not be distressed, Aurora dear, you’ve probably taken on your father’s magic. The magic of the mages is different from that of the fae. The Duke of Silverthorne is a very powerful and experienced mage, and he will be able to sense that.”

  “But how will he know if I’m telling the truth?” I looked at Kalen. “What if he doesn’t believe me?”

  Kalen came over and put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Aurora, the duke has his ways
. Rafe trusts him, and so does my mother. If you really are Aurora Firedrake, then there is no safer place for you than Silverthorne Castle.”

  I glanced at Penelope, whose eyes were still trained on me. “Kalen is right, the duke is very influential in Eldoren and is chief advisor to the king. If Oblek tells Morgana you have escaped, it is only a matter of time before she sends the Shadow Guard to hunt you down. But the duke can protect you, provided you are who you say you are.”

  A twinge of fear ran down my spine. “Who are the Shadow Guard?” I didn’t like the sound of anything hunting me, especially something with a name that began with shadow.

  “They are the scourge of Illiador; Morgana’s personal guard, loyal only to the queen and the archmage. They are hardened warriors, trained by Lucian himself and enhanced by a powerful magic to further intensify their mage powers.” Penelope gave me a pointed look. “You do not want to run into them.”

  I nodded.

  “But Mother, I wanted to take Aurora to see the night market,” Kalen insisted. “Rafe will only be back in the morning to take her to Silverthorne Castle. At least she can have a little fun while she’s here. The market is safe, you know that.”

  I did really want to visit the magical fairy market. I didn’t think I would ever get a chance like this again.

  Penelope nodded. “All right, you can go to the market. But have her back early, she will have a long journey ahead.”

  “Is it far?” I was not too keen on riding for hours to who knew where.

  Kalen shook his head. “No, not really, it’s on the other side of the Cascade Mountains.” As if popping over mountains was a simple feat.

  I stared at him in disbelief. “You want me to travel over a mountain? On horseback?”

  Kalen furrowed his brow. “Of course, how else were you going to get there; fly?” He chuckled at his own joke.

  I hesitated. Now that I thought about it, I should have known better. It was going to take me a while to get used to this world. “I know how to ride, but how many days will it take?”

  “It’s not too far. We are right on the border,” said Kalen. “About five to seven nights, depending on the weather.”

  “What! Seven days? Where will we sleep?”

  “Outside, where else? Don’t worry, you will be safe with Rafe. His magic usually keeps away the wild creatures.”

  Wild creatures, camping outside—this was not my idea of safe at all.

  “And we must get you some suitable clothes,” said Penelope, eyeing me from head to toe with a practiced eye. “I think I have something that may fit you. My eldest daughter, Dewdrop, left some of her things here when she moved away after her marriage.”

  Kalen smiled. “You can change and try to get some rest, Aurora, and tonight we will go to the night market.”

  The Midnight Market

  Later that night, after I had eaten a delicious dinner and rested, we set out for the midnight market. I followed Kalen along the small path that led from Pixie Bush into the very heart of Goldleaf Forest. The full moon shone brightly through the rustling leaves, and the forest path was dappled with dancing specks of silver that flitted ahead of us, guiding the way.

  I had changed into a pretty linen dress, dyed a lovely emerald green, with wide bell sleeves. It was bound at the waist with a green-and-gold-trimmed sash and flowed down to my ankles. My feet were wrapped in soft muslin bandages, and I wore supple leather boots, which also belonged to Kalen’s older sister. Mrs. Plumpleberry had healed my hands and feet with a magical ointment she made herself.

  I wrapped my cloak tighter around me. The night air was chilly in the forest, and Penelope had very generously given me a brown woolen cloak to keep myself warm. I was grateful for her kindness and sound advice, and I hoped I would be able to pay her back someday. I flicked a glance at Kalen. “Your mom is very sweet. She seems to know a lot.”

  “Oh, Mother knows everything,” said Kalen, picking up a pebble. “She is a very old fae, after all.”

  “Is she?” I mused as we followed the forest path. “She doesn’t look very old to me.”

  Kalen laughed. “No, she doesn’t. But Mother is actually three hundred and ninety-three summers old.”

  My mouth fell open. Penelope didn’t look a day over forty.

  “Our race ages very slowly,” Kalen explained. “She will only start looking old when she has completed a thousand summers. She is one of the elders of the village, but her magic is still strong and she is a gifted healer. Many have come to her for help over the years. Once she even helped your granduncle when he was injured in the woods not far from here.”

  It seemed to me that we had been walking for quite a while when I could suddenly hear voices and noises quite clearly in the quiet forest. We came to a large clearing, and the delightful sight that lay ahead left me spellbound.

  The forest was alive, radiant and subtly lit by small, shining lanterns hanging from the towering trees. Balls of fae light floated around us, held aloft by tiny illuminations that fluttered excitedly inside the glass balls. I stopped to investigate one of the lights. “Wow! These look like fireflies.”

  “Not fireflies,” said Kalen, looking over my shoulder. “Fire-pixies.”

  I stared at the tiny pixies buzzing around inside the ball of light. “Are they okay in there?”

  “Don’t worry. They are not trapped, they can leave whenever they want. It’s just a job.”

  I smiled to myself; this world was slowly becoming much more interesting and not all that bad. It was strange how in this part of the forest everyone seemed to be awake for the market. Birds chirped high above us, and little forest animals poked their heads out of the bushes just in time for me to see them before they disappeared again into the dense undergrowth.

  We wandered through the beautifully decorated stalls and multicolored tents that had sprung up all over the place. Some were nestled between the tall trees, while others were haphazardly placed around the edge of the clearing, forming a slightly wonky circle.

  Fae of all sizes, shapes, and colors wandered around, having a marvelous time. There were dryads, naiads, brownies, and little pixies with wings who flitted about the place in groups, laughing and eating at the food stalls, which were selling everything from fruit-filled cream puffs to sugar-coated squares of fresh marzipan.

  We followed a winding path and came to a stall draped in a rich teal fabric, which was manned by a small, pointy-nosed fae with a bushy beard and long ears. Kalen identified him as a gnome. He was selling some strangely colored liquid in glass bottles and was haggling unashamedly about prices with two old ladies. “I cannot give it to you for that price, madame,” the little gnome said. “Siren tears are not an easy ingredient to find, you know. Maybe I could interest you in a pearl from a mermaid’s tail?”

  Kalen chuckled as we left them to work it out. “Mr. Fitzbean always has this problem. He keeps items that are so rare he can never get a buyer rich enough to pay the asking price. He should go sell in the markets in Brandor. That’s where all the real traders go. Although some of the larger towns have shops that sell magical ingredients for potions, the secret markets are the only place you can find some of the really rare items.”

  “Are there really sirens and mermaids in Avalonia?” I whispered.

  “Of course,” Kalen answered as we walked through the market. “They live mainly in the Stardust Sea and prefer the warmer waters south of Elfi. But they are rarely seen and not very friendly.”

  I was absolutely fascinated with this world. There was so much to see and even more to learn. I followed Kalen, who had just entered a green tent with a sign outside that read: “Buy a plant for your home and garden.” That sounded quite ordinary, but I was interested to see what was inside anyway. I thought about buying a plant for Kalen’s mom as a gift—she had helped me a great deal, after all—but I remembered I didn’t have any money.

  The tent was not what I expected at all. The inside was bewitched to look like a large green
house; like the forest, it was much larger inside than it appeared from the outside. Bright moonlight shone through the glass ceiling, and rows of plants and flowers lined the sides of the tent.

  I walked through the rows of plants, looking at the labels that were written next to them. There were strawberry plants in a small tray, growing wonderful, juicy strawberries, each one of which had a dollop of cream on top. The sign near it said: “Grow your own strawberries and cream.”

  “Try one,” said Kalen. “No one is watching.”

  I couldn’t resist; I loved strawberries and cream. I popped the whole strawberry into my mouth. It was delicious and the cream was thick, fresh, and sweet. It was wonderful.

  “Lovely, yes?” said Kalen.

  I nodded, since my mouth was full.

  “Ms. Herbchild is wonderful at growing things. These strawberry plants with cream are one of her new inventions, but you can only grow them on trays inside the house, or the gnomes lick off all the cream.”

  I made a face at the thought of eating a strawberry that had been licked by a gnome.

  A small lady with mousy-brown hair and fae ears came over. “I see you like my new plants.” She gave Kalen a pat on his back. “Kalen, it’s marvelous to see you again.”

  Kalen grinned at her. He seemed to know everybody here in the market. “Good to see you too, Ms. Herbchild.”

  “Feel free to sample some of the new fruits,” she said, as she walked off to attend to another customer.

  We called our thanks to Ms. Herbchild, since she didn’t take any money from us, and walked out of the tent.

  I wandered over to another stall and my eyes lit up. Draped in lime-green and lemon-colored muslin, the stall was selling charm bracelets. I went over to have a better look. The lady selling the bracelets was thin and tall, with skin the colour of burnt caramel under a mane of glossy black hair that had been plaited and ran down her back. She wore a plain, white cotton dress and had covered her shoulders with a brown shawl.

  “Would you like a charm, my little one?” said the lady, after I had a chance to look around.