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

by Farah Oomerbhoy

  I smiled at that. Aunt Serena was cheery and warm. She seemed a wonderful person, and I already felt quite at home.

  “Well, it appears that you have been a busy little lady since you got here.” Aunt Serena gave me a pointed look, smiled, and put her arm around my shoulders. “Father says your story is very intriguing, and the world you grew up in is quite different from our own. You can tell me all about it while we go down for supper.”

  I nodded, a little apprehensive about what I should say as I accompanied Aunt Serena down the castle corridors to the main hall where a feast was being held.

  The great hall was an enormous room filled with people. Ladies in vibrant satin dresses and men in their finest evening attire sat on benches at long wooden tables eating and talking, while a scruffy-looking group of musicians played a lively melody in one corner of the vast room. The hall was packed to bursting, and raucous laughter and the clink and tinkle of plates and goblets filled the air as I followed Aunt Serena to the other end of the hall, where a wooden dais stood.

  Uncle Gabriel was already seated on a high-backed velvet chair behind the massive, rectangular oak table. Beside him, on his left, were two men I had never seen before.

  The duke introduced me as his ward who had come to visit from another kingdom. He had explained to me earlier that no one but a few trusted people must know who I really was.

  One of the men stood up and bowed, first to Aunt Serena and then to me. He had oily, black hair, which was thinning at the temples, and his nose was pointy and reminded me of a beak. “Lord Larney at your service, my lady.”

  The second man did not even bother to look up from his food. But Aunt Serena had to be gracious. “Sir Gothero. How nice to see you again.”

  He finally looked up and I thought he resembled a fat, angry toad. His face was red and splotchy, and he ate his food with his hands, oblivious to the droplets of sauce dribbling down his massive double chin. “Serena.” He inclined his head. “The feeling is mutual, I’m sure.”

  Much to Aunt Serena’s dismay, he proceeded to plant a sloppy kiss on her hand. I had to stifle a giggle at the look on her face when she had to discreetly wipe her hand on her skirt.

  Aunt Serena nodded at them and sat down on her father’s right, with me seated next to her. I glanced at Uncle Gabriel. He had given up listening to the ramblings of the insipid Lord Larney and was busy eating his food, spearing the contents of his plate with a small, sharp dagger.

  I was famished, and Aunt Serena piled my plate with everything that the blue-and-gold liveried pages were serving—small game pies with golden crusts, fresh breads, sliced meat, and cheeses that were quite different from those I had eaten before, but nonetheless rather delicious. There was a fish dish in a lemon sauce, honey roast duck, and bacon-wrapped venison with some delicious-looking vegetables.

  As we were eating, the trumpets blared and I looked up to see a whole roast boar on a gigantic silver tray being carried through the hall by four plate bearers. I wondered how I was possibly going to eat so much food, but I was quite happy to give it my best shot.

  A handsome young boy, slightly older than I was, arrived suddenly and sat down in the chair beside me. “Sorry I’m late, Mother.” He was huffing and puffing and his fine blond hair kept flopping onto his face as he pushed it away irritably, only to have it fall back into his heavy-lashed blue eyes all over again.

  Aunt Serena gave him a fierce look. “And where have you been, young man?”

  My blond cousin laughed jovially and started eating as soon as he sat down. “Oh, just catching up with some old friends.”

  “Can you at least have the decency to greet our guests before you stuff your face?” Aunt Serena’s voice was soft but stern.

  He turned and flushed, suddenly seeming to remember his manners. “Greetings. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.”

  I smiled as I studied him. So this was my cousin, Erien? He was tall and lanky, but he ate like a big, burly man. I was not sure if Aunt Serena had told him who I was, so I didn’t say much. Not that he would have heard me anyway; he was busy helping himself to copious amounts of food, which miraculously kept disappearing off his plate.

  Aunt Serena shot him a withering look. Erien probably thought the admonishment was over, but I had seen that look before. That was the same look my adoptive mother gave me when she was in company and couldn’t shout at me. My poor cousin was going to get an earful after dinner, I was sure of that.

  It was a dark night, and lightning flashed overhead, storm clouds thundering above the castle as I hurried down long stone hallways after dinner, searching for my room. I wished I had asked someone to show me the way instead of wandering aimlessly through the corridors for an hour, trying to find it myself.

  I made a few turns that turned out to be dead ends or locked doors, when I noticed a figure crouching near one of the doors at the end of the corridor. The door was ajar, and the figure was obviously spying on someone.

  My heart hammered in my chest, and I inched closer to try to glimpse who it was. Suddenly, the figure turned as lightning flashed outside. I breathed a sigh of relief; it was Erien. But what was he doing listening at open doors?

  He waved me over and put his finger to his lips. I moved closer and crouched beside him, listening.

  “I told you, Gothero, we must inform the duke,” said Lord Larney’s voice. I recognized it immediately.

  “He will throw us in the dungeon as soon as he knows.” Gothero’s deep voice was distinctive. “We cannot defy Morgana; Lucian will hunt us down. It’s better we do what she wants. Silverthorne will forgive us eventually.”

  “Dead men don’t forgive.”

  “I was joking,” said Gothero.

  “Well, it’s not funny.”

  I moved closer to Erien and the door. Candlelight flickered, and I could see into part of the room.

  Gothero was sitting at a table holding what looked like a small green bottle, and Lord Larney was pacing up and down the room, quite visibly upset at the whole situation.

  “Morgana is paying us very well.” Gothero put the green bottle down on the table in front of him. “All we have to do is make sure the duke drinks this. He will be dead by morning, and we will live in comfort for the rest of our lives.”

  Erien slid his sword from its sheath, and I tried to grab his hand to prevent him from doing something stupid, but he jumped up before I could stop him.

  “Erien, no,” I whispered, in my last attempt to hold him back.

  Erien rushed into the room, brandishing his sword at the two startled men. “Traitors,” he growled.

  I ran into the room after him. “Erien, please be sensible.” I tried to calm the situation. What was he thinking? He should have called the captain of the guard instead of rushing into the room like that. If these men were contemplating killing the duke, they must be very dangerous, and there was no telling what they might do.

  Gothero’s eyes narrowed as he got up from his chair. “What are you going to do about it, boy?” He unsheathed his sword as he moved—surprisingly fast for a man of his size.

  Erien stood his ground and prepared to defend himself.

  Lord Larney inched toward me on the other side, his sword already in hand. My eyes darted around the room, frantically searching for some sort of weapon I could use to defend myself.

  “I will make sure you hang for this,” Erien said.

  “You and whose army?” Gothero sneered, creeping closer toward us.

  “I don’t really think they need one,” said a familiar voice behind me. I didn’t turn; I didn’t need to. I knew exactly who it was.

  Larney’s and Gothero’s eyes widened at the sight of the person behind us. “The Black Wolf, here! In the castle?” Lord Larney clearly recognized him. “How? Where are the guards?”

  Erien laughed when he saw Rafe and threw a dark look at the traitors. “Looks like you two might as well give yourselves up now.”

  “Put down your swords,”
Rafe came up to stand beside me, “and you might get a fair trial.”

  “You can’t do anything to us.” Lord Larney slowly moved backward. “You’re an outlaw, wanted by the queen.”

  “She’s not my queen,” Rafe growled, inching closer and repositioning himself to shield me from them.

  “Kill him. Morgana will reward us well for the Black Wolf’s head,” said Gothero, glancing at his companion.

  “I think I would like to keep my head, thank you,” Rafe drawled and raised both his hands in front of him. Two bolts of white light shot out of his palms and hit the traitors in the chest. They collapsed on the white stone floor in disheveled heaps.

  “Are they . . . ?” I asked, hesitant to finish my sentence.

  “Dead?”

  I nodded.

  “No.” Rafe walked farther into the room and bent down to bind the wrists of the fallen men. “They are merely stunned.”

  “So will they be all right?”

  “Well, enough to stand trial, that’s for sure,” Erien replied, going over to Rafe and helping him.

  Rafe finished tying up the men, got up, and clasped Erien’s forearm in greeting.

  Erien wore a genuine smile. “It’s good to have you back in Silverthorne Castle, my friend. What brings you to these parts?”

  “I came by to see if the young lady got here safely.” Rafe’s eyes narrowed as he turned them on me; they looked like stormclouds that were just about to burst. “I thought I told you to stay in Pixie Bush until I came to get you.”

  I put my hands on my hips at his harsh tone. “Well I would have if I wasn’t so busy running for my life.” I snapped.

  “And whose fault is that?” Rafe ground out through clenched teeth. “If you had remained in Pixie Bush with Penelope instead of sauntering off to that bloody fae market, the Shadow Guard wouldn’t have found you.”

  “First of all, I wasn’t sauntering.” I looked him straight in the eyes. “Kalen asked me to go with him to the market, so I did. And second of all, it was Finn that led Oblek to me. He was the one who betrayed his own people just to get rid of me. If I had been in Pixie Bush, they would have hurt many more of the fae.” I crossed my arms in front of me. “Why are you following me?”

  His gaze softened, but his voice was still rough as his eyes glittered, never leaving my face. “I was worried.”

  I flushed. “Oh!”

  Erien cleared his throat. “Well, if you two have finished, I’ll go and get the captain to remove these men to the dungeons until my grandfather decides what to do with them.”

  “I should leave before he gets here,” said Rafe with a wry smile. “I don’t think Captain Raingate likes me very much.”

  “Probably a good idea.” Erien chuckled and ran off to summon the guards.

  Rafe turned to the door. “We should get out of here before the guards come to take away the prisoners.”

  I nodded and flicked a glance at him. “Thank you for helping once again.”

  “Every time I see you, you are in some kind of trouble.” Rafe’s lips quirked up in a barely suppressed smile. “Helping you seems to have become a new job of mine.”

  I winced. “Sorry. It seems to have become my specialty since I got here.”

  Much to my surprise Rafe burst out laughing. “Well, at least you made it to Silverthorne Castle in one piece.” He winked at me and opened the door.

  I smiled and followed him into the shadowy corridor, where half-burned torches lined the white stone walls. The thunder had abated, and shafts of muted moonlight wandered in through the massive windows, lighting up the tapestries that lined the passage. “Come. I will escort you to your room.”

  I bit my lip. “But I don’t know where it is.”

  He stopped walking and raised an eyebrow. “So how were you planning to get to your room tonight?”

  “I thought I would find someone who would be able to tell me where it is,” I said, my accidental stupidity apparent. “But then I got lost and saw Erien spying on those men, and, well, you know the rest.”

  Rafe laughed again, a deep, warm sound. “You really are very amusing, Aurora. I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun as I have since I was fortunate enough to stumble across you in Oblek’s dungeon.”

  I whirled on him. “Fun! Are you mad? I’ve been almost killed three times since yesterday, and you think it’s fun?”

  Rafe’s eyebrows scrunched together as we resumed walking. “Except for the Shadow Guard in the forest, you weren’t really in much danger. Oblek’s guards are useless, and Larney and Gothero are fools. I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, Aurora. I really wish you would trust me.”

  “I do trust you, Rafe. It’s just that there is so much that has happened, I really don’t know where to start.”

  “I met with your granduncle when I got here, and he told me what he discovered about you.” He kept his voice low. “I knew there was a reason I couldn’t sense your magic.”

  My eyes widened. “He told you about the amulet?”

  Rafe nodded. “Your granduncle knows that your secret is safe with me.”

  I was relieved that I didn’t have to lie to him. Uncle Gabriel must really trust him a lot if he had told him who I was.

  “What will happen to Larney and Gothero?”

  “That depends on Silverthorne, but I suspect they will be made examples of and hanged as traitors.”

  “Hanged! But they didn’t actually kill him, they were only planning to.”

  “True,” said Rafe, “but what if they had succeeded? This way it will deter anyone from trying to plot against the duke again.”

  I was unsettled. The justice system here was swift and cruel. One mistake, and you could be hanged the next day. Not that I didn’t think what they did was wrong, and they should be locked up and made to pay for their crimes. But hanging? I thought it was a bit harsh.

  Rafe stopped outside a stout oak door. “The kitchen is through here. I’m sure you will manage to find someone to show you where your room is.”

  “Thank you.”

  He bowed. “I will take your leave, Aurora.”

  “You’re going right now?” I blurted out, much to my dismay.

  Rafe raised his eyebrows, but the humor hadn’t left his eyes. “Miss me already?”

  I huffed and crossed my arms in front of me. “No, I was just wondering.”

  Rafe chuckled. “Well, in that case, I’m sure we will cross paths again. I cannot take the risk of anyone seeing me. Although most here are loyal to the duke, there are also those who would sell me out to Morgana in a heartbeat.”

  “Who are you really?” My curiosity was getting the better of me.

  Rafe hesitated as he threw me a pointed look. “It’s better that you don’t know for now.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Better for whom?” He was really good at evading questions about himself. He now knew everything about me, who I was, and that I was a fae-mage, but I knew absolutely nothing about him. “How come you’re always in the right place at the right time?”

  He shrugged. “Just luck, I guess.”

  He still hadn’t answered any of my questions, just masterfully skirted around them. My mind shot to another strange coincidence. “How did you get here so fast? I got here this morning, and I was traveling on a flying horse. Kalen said it would take five to seven days to travel over the mountains.”

  Rafe’s gaze sharpened. “There are various shortcuts through the mountains if you know where to look. If you had stayed in Pixie Bush as I had told you to, I could have shown you.”

  My eyes widened. “What kind of shortcuts?”

  “Over the years, the fae created magical gateways, passages of sorts that are strewn all over the place.”

  “Like the one I came through from the other world?”

  “Something like that. Some gateways are small stops, closer in range, and much easier to use. Some are farther away and can also be just one way. I’ve used the one through the mountains
countless times. There aren’t that many left; some don’t even work anymore. But the remaining ones come in handy in my line of work.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “So what is your line of work? Are you an outlaw, an assassin, or a sword-for-hire kind of guy?”

  Rafe’s eyes narrowed to ice chips. “You, my dear Aurora, ask too many questions.”

  What had I said?

  He paused for a moment, seeming to consider his words carefully. “No, I am not an assassin, nor do I sell my sword to the highest bidder. I am wanted by the Illiadorian Guard for helping those who cannot help themselves.”

  My eyes lit up. “So you’re an outlaw then, like Robin Hood?” I knew he had some good qualities apart from being dangerous and devastatingly handsome.

  Rafe scrunched his eyebrows. “Robin who?”

  I stifled a laugh.

  He shrugged. “Does it really matter who I am?”

  “I guess not,” I said, dropping the topic. I would ask Uncle Gabriel about him later if he didn’t want to tell me right now.

  “I really have to leave now, Aurora.” He put on the hood of his cloak. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “Will I see you again?” I was sure I was blushing as soon as the words left my mouth.

  Rafe gave me a dashing smile. “I certainly hope so. Don’t get into any more trouble until I get back.”

  “I will definitely give it my best shot,” I retorted with a grin. “But I can’t make any promises.”

  Rafe laughed, his eyes crinkling slightly in the corners. “I would expect nothing less.” He bowed low and kissed my hand, his eyes never once leaving my face. “Goodbye, Princess Firedrake.”

  “Goodbye, Rafe.”

  He turned and walked away, his black cloak billowing behind him like a second shadow as I opened the kitchen door.

  The kitchen was an enormous room with a high ceiling held up by massive beams and dominated by a long wooden workbench and table. Pots and pans were washed, stacked, and hung on neat display, and the fireplace had a big iron pot bubbling away in the corner. The castle cook, a sweet little middle-aged woman, was still awake, having a cup of something hot with two of the kitchen maids. They jumped up when they saw me.