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

by Farah Oomerbhoy

  The carriage rolled to a stop in front of Everdale House. I climbed the steps, and Figgins opened the door to let us in. I was informed that Vivienne was waiting in the informal drawing room.

  “Which one is that again?” I asked Figgins, still confused by all the rooms.

  “Down the corridor and on your left, my lady,” said the ever-helpful Figgins.

  I followed his directions and hurried to meet Vivienne.

  “There you are,” she said, jumping up from the sofa and coming over to hug me. “Where were you? I have been waiting for ages.”

  “Sorry, Viv, I was at a dress fitting with Aunt Serena. I have to go to a party at Damien’s house tomorrow night.” I scrunched up my nose.

  “Oh no.” Vivienne looked suitably upset at the situation. I knew she would understand immediately. “So, where’s Erien?” Vivienne’s eyes scanned the room.

  “He’s out.” Why did she care?

  “Oh!” Vivienne’s face fell.

  “Viv,” I said carefully. “Do you fancy Erien?”

  “No, no, of course not. Don’t be silly,” she said, jumping up off the sofa. “I was just asking.”

  I smiled. Vivienne definitely had a crush on Erien. It was sweet, and I thought they would make a cute couple. I wondered if I could set them up.

  Vivienne changed the subject. “Did you tell your aunt about the book?”

  “She knows; Professor Dekela told her.”

  Vivienne sat back down next to me, and I proceeded to tell her everything that Aunt Serena had said.

  “How can I forget about the book?” I said to Vivienne finally. “If Morgana gets all the keys, she will open the Book of Abraxas and take over the whole of Avalonia. No one will be able to stand in her way.”

  “Your aunt and the professor are right,” said Vivienne. “You can’t prance around the kingdom looking for the keys; they could be anywhere. If you don’t learn to use the powers you have, it won’t matter if Morgana has the book or not—she’s going to kill you anyway. Now that your granduncle knows about it too, she can be stopped from ever getting the book or the rest of the keys. You have already done enough and alerted them of Morgana’s plans. If you are going to be a queen, act like it. You need to learn to delegate responsibility. You have to let them handle it.”

  I nodded. She had a point, and Vivienne always had a way of putting things in the correct perspective. I had to concentrate on my studies and learn all I could. I couldn’t stay hidden forever, and I needed to prepare myself for what was surely coming. Again, I thought about telling her my other secret, but I decided that this probably wasn’t the right time, and I kept my mouth shut.

  The next night, I admired myself in my new evening gown. The creamy satin shimmered in the candlelight, and one of Aunt Serena’s maids did up my horrid mousy hair into an elaborate coiffure of ringlets and pearls, all elegantly pinned up and set beautifully.

  As the carriage pulled up to Blackwater House, I looked on, amazed. It was a huge, three-storied stone mansion at least twice the size of Everdale House and richly ornate, but frankly overdecorated, I thought. The inside was even more impressive, with a marble foyer, huge columns, and statues everywhere.

  As liveried servants escorted us to the drawing room, I glimpsed intricate tapestries, massive windows draped in fine silk, gilded frames, and portraits that lined the gleaming mahogany walls.

  The drawing room was full and bustling with chattering ladies in all their finery, as well as smartly dressed men in their evening doublets and highly polished boots. It was brightly lit with fragrant candles burning in massive silver candelabras and a huge crystal chandelier gleaming overhead, hanging from an ornate and intricately carved ceiling.

  “Ah, Serena, how lovely to see you,” said a beautiful lady whose chestnut hair was spun with gold. She wore a maroon dress, which clipped her tiny waist before falling to the floor in a cascade of rich velvet. It was thickly embroidered with gold flowers, and she had matching blooms adorning her elaborate hair.

  Aunt Serena greeted the lady warmly. “Sorcha.” She then pulled me forward. “Rory, this is the Duchess of Blackwater.”

  “Your Grace,” I said with a small curtsy.

  Serena had taught me most of the ways I should address people. I was still confused about ranks. I knew a duke was the highest ranking noble after the king and prince, but then was it a marquis or an earl, a viscount, and then a baron, or the other way around? It was all very confusing.

  “So this is Rory,” said the duchess, eyeing me up and down. “Damien has told me about you. I am so sorry about your parents. It is unfortunate and such a huge loss for a girl your age.”

  The duchess sounded genuine and was not at all mean like Damien, but I reminded myself to be careful; after all, this was the archmage’s sister I was talking to.

  I was introduced around, and most of the people paid me only a passing greeting. I was relieved that no one was too interested in me, as I was not very comfortable answering questions about myself, since I had to lie so extensively.

  Soon dinner was announced, and we were led into the dining room, which was also larger than the one at Everdale House. The massive hardwood dining table was highly polished and could easily seat fifty people. White-gloved and liveried footmen, who accompanied us everywhere like shadows, showed us to our seats.

  Somehow Damien managed to seat himself next to me. I don’t know where he turned up from; I hadn’t seen him the whole evening. Calisto was seated opposite me near Zorek, but luckily a huge flower arrangement hid me from her view. I was not in the mood for Calisto’s cutting remarks. Next to me, much to my horror, was Lady Leticia Glenbarry, who looked peeved to have been seated next to a nobody like me.

  I was plowing through the first of ten courses when Aunt Serena gave me a glare from across the table. I soon remembered that she had warned me that proper young ladies don’t eat as though they have never seen food in their life. Women are supposed to only pick, chew a lot, and make innocuous comments about the sauce.

  There were courses of everything from soups and roasted vegetables to fish in an array of sauces, extraordinary concoctions of some meat, and poultry done a dozen different ways with cream, nuts, and honeyed apricots. The desserts were just as elaborate: delicious spun sugar concoctions, hot berry puddings with creamy sauces, cheeses, fruits, and more chocolate than you could possibly imagine.

  We were halfway through dessert when the man next to Leticia spoke up. “Lady Leticia,” he said, fawning over her in obvious hopes of being noticed by the lady who was betrothed to the Prince of Eldoren. “When will the prince return from his travels? I have an urgent matter to discuss with him.”

  “I cannot divulge that information, Lord Mornington.” Leticia smiled sweetly, but her eyes flashed with anger.

  “She has no clue where my cousin is,” whispered Damien in my ear. I could tell he didn’t like Leticia, but she was a very difficult person to like. “He prances off whenever he wants, and my uncle has to constantly send guards to bring him back from whatever inn or tavern he is holed up in.”

  I was taken aback; Damien really hated his cousin, the prince. It wasn’t only in my family that the Blackwaters’ jealousies ran rampant. I knew that if they had their way, they would overthrow the king and take over Eldoren. Were all these rumors true about the prince?

  Across the table, a conversation was turning into an argument.

  “You cannot possibly think that the Black Wolf is anything more than a thieving outlaw,” said an old earl loudly, sitting up straighter in his high-backed chair. “He must be caught and brought to justice.”

  “But he saves so many innocent lives,” said a plump middle-aged lady who I recognized as the Countess of Dewberry. Aunt Serena had introduced us earlier in the drawing room. “He should be awarded a knighthood if you ask me, Marcus.”

  “A knighthood,” spluttered the old earl, putting down his silver goblet. “Have you gone insane, woman? When that outlaw is finall
y caught, he should be hanged. I shall bring this to the notice of the council. Outlaws cannot be permitted to take the law into their own hands.”

  “But he does so much good,” the countess insisted, holding her ground.

  “What good is he to us?” The old earl was going red in the face, looking like a ripe tomato ready to burst. “All he does is save those heathen fae. If you ask me, I think I quite agree with Morgana that the fae should go back to Elfi and stay there.”

  The countess gasped and turned away from the earl, refusing to even look at him.

  I was so engrossed by their conversation that I didn’t notice the man next to Leticia trying to get my attention.

  “So!” said Lord Mornington, glancing at me. “Rory, is it?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “And you are a mage in training at the Academy at Evolon?”

  I nodded.

  “Yes, yes, very good. All the Morningtons have been to the Academy at Evolon too, you know. Except myself. Sadly, I was not graced with the magic you possess.” Lord Mornington leaned back in his chair and fondled his wispy beard. “Young Damien here must be teaching you a few things, eh?” He gave me a lewd wink.

  My spine stiffened as I glared at him. What did he mean by saying that Damien was teaching me? There was definitely nothing I wanted to learn from him. And what was that wink about? Did he think I was dating Damien?

  “No, my lord,” I said as sweetly as I could, even though I was fuming inside. “It’s more that I could teach Damien a few things—in magic, that is.”

  The bald, paunchy lord laughed so loudly at my answer that he dropped his silver wine goblet, and red wine splattered all over the table and over Lady Leticia’s hideously expensive dress.

  She jumped up. “You clumsy clod, you,” she screeched at the mortified Lord Mornington, who clumsily tried to mop up the wine from her dress with his napkin and, in the process, proceeded to spread it around, creating an even messier stain.

  “Stay away from me,” screamed Leticia, swatting Lord Mornington’s hands.

  Footmen rushed to assist the screaming lady. The Duchess of Blackwater got up as well and tried to pacify her, but it was no use. Leticia Glenbarry, the future queen of the kingdom, gathered her skirts in a huff of stained satin and marched out of the dining room. I giggled to myself. She deserved it, the snooty thing.

  Lord Mornington apologized all around, and he sat back down at his seat while the footmen miraculously dried everything and replaced the offending goblet with a new one, filled only halfway this time around.

  I turned to Damien, but he did not look like he was laughing. His eyes flashed with malice. “Who do you think you are, anyway?”

  My jaw tightened and I lifted my brows. All this time Damien had been cordial, and now suddenly he hated me again. What had I done?

  “How dare you tell Lord Mornington in full hearing of everyone else that you could teach me,” he ground out between clenched teeth so no one else could hear. “I am a Blackwater. My blood is one of the most magical in the whole kingdom and beyond. You are nobody, a little girl from a faraway town that no one has even heard of. You think you can teach me anything, I will show you what it means to cross a Blackwater.”

  “I’m sorry.” I glanced around. I didn’t want a scene now, especially here. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just trying to make a joke.”

  His beady blue eyes darkened. “Well, it wasn’t funny.”

  Luckily, the duchess announced that the men could retire to the drawing room, and the ladies would go to the parlor. Everyone got up from their seats and headed out of the dining room.

  Damien gave me a dark look and brushed past me. “See you in school.”

  I shivered at his words. Damien was definitely up to something, and I was quite sure I was not going to like whatever it was that was surely coming my way.

  Damien

  The next few days were passed shopping and spending time with Aunt Serena. Vivienne came over a few times, and we went for walks in the little wooded park behind Everdale House. Soon we had to return to the academy, and I was not looking forward to that at all. I would have to see Damien, and I was quite sure the Blackwaters were planning something nasty for me.

  I thanked Aunt Serena and climbed into the Everdale coach that was to take me back to school. Erien got in with me, and we waved goodbye to my aunt, who stood at the door to see us off.

  Classes were interesting as usual, and I didn’t see Damien the whole first day I was back. He wasn’t even in warrior skills that day, which was a relief, but I wondered where he was.

  I fiddled with my amulet while I walked back from my evening history class through the gardens to my dorm. I looked at it again, as I had done countless times before. It seemed so delicate and harmless, just a flat, round, gold disc with strange etchings embossed into the gold. Quite extraordinary that it held so much power. I slipped it back into my shirt.

  It was getting dark, the sun had set, and the early hint of twilight filled the gardens with shadows. I quickened my step, pulled my mottled green cloak closer, and hurried on. It was getting cold. I could hear faint footsteps behind me. I looked back, but no one was there.

  Out of nowhere, a dark shape appeared, moving steadily out of the shadows. I recognized who it was instantly.

  “Damien!” I tried not to let the panic in my voice show.

  I had been grateful to have avoided him all day. Now he was here in a dark, deserted corner of the grounds with seven or eight of his minions, and I was alone. Even if I shouted, everyone was too far away.

  Calisto appeared out of the shadows. Damien and his friends encircled me. I looked for a way to run, but they had surrounded me on all sides.

  My hands started to go clammy as a pit of fear opened up inside me. If Rafe had taught me to use knives, like I had asked, I might have had a better chance of defending myself. But who was I kidding? Even with knives, one against eight was not exactly a fair fight.

  “What do you want?” I hated that my voice was a little shaky. Whatever Damien had planned for me tonight was not going to be pleasant.

  “I want to see if you are as brave as all the other disgusting Silverthornes,” he sneered. “Stay where you are and you may get a chance to defend yourself.” His tone was cruel, mocking, and his dark gaze bore into me. “You are nothing, a commoner from a distant kingdom, yet you think you are better than me, Damien, son of the Duke of Blackwater, one of the noblest and most magically powerful families in the kingdom. You don’t deserve to be in this school. I told you I’d teach you a lesson. Let us see what you’re made of.”

  While I was distracted, one of Damien’s minions surprised me with a stun strike. It was weak, but it hurt, and I was dazed for a few seconds. I called on my magic and quickly put up my defensive shield, although it was shaky at best.

  I tried to calm my racing heart and slowly shook off the stun. I strengthened my shield just in time, as five more stun strikes hit my shield and bounced off. It held, but only just. I drew more power and infused it into my defensive barrier. Damien and his friends didn’t stop their barrage of magical strikes. Attack after attack, stun strike after stun strike hit my shield and were thankfully deflected. I tried to think, but the attacks were coming at me so fast, I had no time to react except to shield myself. If I channeled my power into striking, my shield could drop. I had not yet mastered keeping it intact as I fought.

  The attacks were becoming fiercer. At first, they were one at a time, but soon they began combining their strikes against me. I was getting tired; I’d never had to hold out against a magical attack for so long before, and even then, it had been against one person with Professor Tanko looking on.

  One fire strike managed to get partly through my shield and scorched my leg before I could seal the breach. The pain was agonizing, but I held my ground.

  I tried to remember everything Professor Tanko had taught me. “Keep your shield in place at all times. Don’t forget to seal the
top and bottom as well.” I concentrated on the area and closed the break in the shield. My legs had gone weak from exhaustion, and I fell to my knees, but still I drew more power into maintaining my shield. I didn’t know how long I could hold out. My leg hurt where the fire strike had hit me. It throbbed, and my skin was red and burning.

  “Come on, get up, Rory,” sneered Calisto. “You think you are so important because you are a ward of the Silverthornes. Well, let me tell you, your peasant blood is nothing compared to ours. We are Blackwaters, our magical bloodline spans generations, and no one even cares where Andrysia is.”

  She hit me with a strong fire strike.

  My shield was weakening again. I felt fear rush in, and her strike hit my shoulder. Pain shot through my arm, and I cried out in alarm. I put my palm over the area and reinforced my shield, drawing more power into it. I could feel my power source depleting. Soon I would have none left, and if I tried to do too much, I could die.

  I knew I would have to fight them physically, and soon; my magical shield was about to fall. I wondered if I should take off my amulet, but Uncle Gabriel’s warning resounded in my head. If I took off the amulet, Damien would know who I really was. He would inform Lucian, and Morgana would come after me immediately. For now I was only safe because she had no idea where I was.

  I calmed myself and got ready for the final blow. I would not let them defeat me. I was a princess, daughter of the greatest mage of this age, a fearless warrior, and the true King of Illiador. The thought gave me strength to further reinforce my shield, but time was running out.

  Suddenly Damien’s voice sounded panicked. “Let’s get out of here. Someone’s coming.”

  They all left as quickly as they came.

  I collapsed in a heap on the ground, my shield still defensively around me.

  “Rory, are you all right?” a worried voice said.