The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set

by Kelly Blanchard

  He sent his eldest brother a smirk. “I’m glad you asked.” Then he fixed his eyes on Roskelem and saw a flash of fear in his eyes. Shaking his head, he tsked his tongue. “Not to worry, Your Majesty, I am not going to kill you. I am simply...” He reached forward and grabbed Roskelem’s hand, turning the palm upward. “Going to cut your hand. If the theory is right, this should work.”

  Realizing what he meant and what would happen to him, Roskelem widened his eyes and tried to yank his hand out of Lorrek’s grip. “No! No—I won’t let you take my magic!”

  Lorrek tightened his hold on Roskelem’s hand—his eyes cold and tone hard. “It wasn’t yours in the first place.” With that, he sliced across Roskelem’s palm and kept the blade in the cut. Roskelem flinched and tried to pull away, but Lorrek held on tightly.

  With the blade in the blood, it began to glow brighter and brighter, and Roskelem paled.

  Finally, Lorrek pulled the blade away, and Roskelem sank to the floor. “Not to worry.” Lorrek looked at the others. “Magic draining can be a little...well, draining.” He turned his gaze to the pulsing white blade then narrowed his eyes, willing the weapon to return to its bracelet form. Once it slid into position and turned the whole bracelet white, Lorrek phased it off his hand.

  He went to Heldon. “That power must be put someplace safe.” He motioned to the handblade on Heldon’s left hand.

  Grateful it wasn’t the handblade covering his cut-off hand, Heldon said the word and removed the bracelet from his wrist then offered it to Lorrek.

  Lorrek took it and held the two separate handblades in his hands—one containing Verddra’s magic and the other containing Roskelem’s.

  He held them up for his prisoners to see, and then he smiled at them and made the handblades vanish into another dimension at a flick of his wrist. Tucking his hands behind his back, he leaned down toward the two. “Now you have no way of regaining your magic without me, and I have no intention to ever return that power to you. I would very much like to execute you for all your schemes, but I will leave your fate in the hands of the wise King Caleth and the good council in Athorim. I’m sure you remember them, Countess Verddra.” He smirked at her then stepped back and nodded at Caleth. “I believe you can handle it from here.” He then turned and walked away.

  Theran trailed him, but Heldon remained to converse with Caleth regarding the prisoners.

  When Lorrek came into the council hall, his gaze fell on the three individuals in the room—Fawn, Nyvera, and Sirros. He frowned when he failed to locate two others. “Where are Haskel and Gremina?”

  “Likely in their chambers and guarded until they return to Serhon.” Theran suggested although he wasn’t quite sure. Then again, he wasn’t sure why these three had returned to the council hall after he had dismissed everyone. However, he went on to tell Lorrek, “I would be surprised if they return without affair. After all, you did just sentence their father.”

  Lorrek shook his head. “By all the sorcery he has done and all the grief he has caused so many people, I am not so sure how close they want to be to him now.”

  “I heard Roskelem turned Sidra into stone,” Theran stated, and Lorrek gestured toward him, taking note of the statement.

  “See? Perfect reason to distance oneself from such a man.” Then Lorrek finally focused on Fawn, and he knew Nyvera and Sirros would want the answer to the question he was about to ask. “You took Vixen. Where is she? Is she well?”

  Nyvera turned to the sorceress. Fawn had known the answer to this question all this time but hadn’t told her? Irked, Nyvera made a fist. “You know where my daughter is? Where?”

  But Sirros placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

  Fawn observed the husband and wife for a moment before turning her full attention back to Lorrek. “Her wounds are being treated, but it will be some time before she wakes.”

  “What are you talking about? What happened to Vixen?” Nyvera demanded. “Tell me—tell me now!” She spun round to Lorrek. “What did you do to her?”

  “I tried to kill her.” Lorrek answered simply, stunning Vixen’s mother into silence. And in this silence, Lorrek nodded. “King Roskelem stripped me of my memories as punishment for what I had done to Princess Atheta, and then he enslaved me to do his will, which was to kill Vixen. I followed that command to the very end, but thankfully, prior to going to Serhon, I had given Vixen a blade that would completely restore me—or destroy me. During this battle, I gravely wounded your daughter, yet she stabbed me with that dagger. Not only did it heal me, but it also restored my memories, and I realized what I had done. I tried to heal her, but it wasn’t working, and that is when Fawn came and took her from me.” Lorrek motioned to the sorceress then let his hand fall as he lowered his gaze. “And I am terribly sorry for my actions.”

  Nyvera struggled against Sirros’ hold until she released herself, and she stalked up to Lorrek and came up to his face. Suddenly, she was at a loss for words, so she slapped him—hard, and spun on her heel, and stormed away.

  Sirros locked eyes with Lorrek. “Return our daughter to us, or you will suffer the ramifications of angering the Five Assassin Houses.” With that, he turned and went after his wife.

  Though his cheek stung from the slap, Lorrek did not lift his hand to his face. He watched Sirros leave then sighed and looked back at Fawn. “And what of Princess Mordora? Has she been located in this mess?”

  Fawn nodded. “Skelton has taken a unique interest in her, but I believe Mordora hates him. Mordora has...vanished in the midst of all this. We have not been able to locate her yet. Skelton and Adonis are searching for her.”

  “And the thieves, Hunters, and Guardians?” Lorrek lifted his brows.

  “Most of the thieves and assassins have already returned to their homes although Aradin and Dustal might expect some kind of payment for all they’ve been through.” Fawn gave Theran a look then glanced back at Lorrek. “Most of the Guardians returned to Jechorm upon receiving commands from their director. Ceras found a way to overthrow the Senate, end the Guardian Program, and she is currently overseeing negotiations of the new regime.”

  Lorrek nodded. “Very good.”

  An awkward silence fell between them. For once it wasn’t Lorrek’s place to give commands, and Theran didn’t know what to do or say, and Fawn waited for one of them to say something. The men shifted with unease, and finally Fawn crossed her arms and lifted her brows at them. “Who will be king now that Honroth is dead?”

  “Theran.” “Heldon.”

  The brothers shared a glance, and Theran narrowed his eyes into a glare for Lorrek volunteering to place him on the throne.

  Realizing reluctance was there, Lorrek gathered a breath and looked back at Fawn giving her a tight smile. “That’s something we have yet to work out, but we needed to resolve more pressing matters before crowning a new king.”

  Fawn nodded understanding his reasoning. “I wish to remain for Honroth’s funeral and the coronation of the new king, but then I will leave.”

  “I wish to speak with you in a moment, but first, I need to speak with my brother.”

  Fawn bowed her head to him. “Of course. Use magic to locate me. I won’t be far.” With that, she magicked away.

  Theran observed Lorrek and frowned. “What is wrong, Lorrek?”

  The youngest prince of Cuskelom sighed because he knew his brother’s stubbornness. He recalled the few occasions when Theran became concerned for someone else’s well-being other than his own, and when he was determined to protect them and care for them, nothing would hinder him. Lorrek knew the same was true now.

  He lowered himself to sit on a step of the dais, and Theran sat beside him. “I found a way back from the abyss, and for the longest time I simply wandered, not knowing where to go. At last I determined to start in Nirrorm, for Mordora hated me enough to respect me. I was the one who sent her here.” He lifted his gaze to the huge empty room. “I never foresaw her attacking Cuskelom alongside our enemy.” />
  “You cannot foresee all things, little brother.” Theran moved to touch Lorrek’s shoulder but thought better of it and withdrew his hand.

  Lorrek gave a weak chuckle then shook his head. “Ah, but I am! I am Lorrek—the great mage of Cuskelom, the sorcerer prince...” But even he did not believe a single word, so he sighed and slouched his shoulders, bowing his head. “How powerless I truly am, for if I could have foreseen anything, you would have thought I would have prevented Therth from accompanying me to Jechorm, would have forbade him from revealing his identity to Princess Atheta, and perhaps all this heartache could have been avoided. Ah, but alas, it is not so.”

  “It is not your fault. Do you know why I continued to seek you out after all these years?” When Lorrek shook his head at this question, Theran gave an awkward shrug. “I knew you were not dead. No one here believed me. They even etched your name in the marble wall of the Crypt of Cuskelom, but I could not stand it, so I left.”

  “Only under the guise of searching me out. You did not honestly think you would find me, did you?” Lorrek watched his brother closely and saw him hesitate. This made him smile. Theran—loud, boastful, proud Theran—did care for his little brother enough to defy the odds and believe in the impossible. The more Lorrek thought on it, the wider his smile grow. “You missed having me pull you out of trouble!”

  Theran shot him a glare—though humor lit his eyes. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did. You knew as long as I was gone, you wouldn’t have a sudden escape route from men seeking to pummel you with their fists.”

  “I had my handblade—I could teleport.”

  Lorrek conceded with a bow of his head. “Very well, then you missed having me as a resource to help you fight whomever you angered.”

  “You never helped me fight. As I recall, you preferred to stand back, arms crossed, and let the fight unfold.”

  Lorrek snapped his fingers and smiled. “Then you missed my abilities to charm our way out of the delightful dungeons you often got us into.”

  Theran gave him a dull look. “Even though you could get out, you never did—and you never helped us out. Instead you freed yourself from whatever bonds you may have had and sat down for a good read with whatever book you pulled out of your magic.”

  “Ah yes, those were good times. I managed to get a lot of reading done that way.” Lorrek smirked at his brother, who swung a careless punch at him which Lorrek ducked and pulled out of range of Theran’s punches. He still smiled—it felt good to be able to do that. “Seriously though—why did you go after me? You had no way to know I was alive.”

  Conceding to this fact, Theran withdrew his arm from trying to playfully hit his brother. All those years he had shrunk from his duty as king under the guise of seeking Lorrek. He had convinced himself his real task was to find his brother, but now he realized, “I did not wish to be king. If I stayed here, Honroth would not have ruled well. He would have looked to me for the final say in all matters, and doing this would have made him appear weak. I had to leave. I was not meant to be king.”

  “And now?” When Theran looked at him confused, Lorrek went on. “You were not meant to be king then, but you are still the rightful king of Cuskelom—and Honroth is dead. Cuskelom needs a king.”

  Before Lorrek finished speaking, Theran began shaking his head. “No—I will not be king! I am not fit to be king.”

  Realizing there was more to the matter than simply self-consciousness, Lorrek drew in a breath, folded his arms and regarded his brother. He understood without having to be told. “You feel as though you are not meant to be king due to your reckless behavior growing up. Everyone remembers you as the drunken prince—rowdy and disorderly. How can such a man be a good king—and respected?” He nodded as he considered all this. “But Theran, you are not who you were—”

  “They do not know that.” Theran gestured to the empty room as if to motion of the people of the court. He bowed his head. “They do not know me.”

  “Do you know yourself?”

  The question made Theran lift his gaze as Lorrek rose to his feet. He wanted to protest that, yes, he knew himself, but something held him back.

  Lorrek nodded when he observed this. “You have until the coronation to decide what you will do, but know this—until you know yourself, do not expect others to know you.” With that, he bowed his head to his brother then magicked away, leaving Theran in the stillness of the room.

  Theran lifted his gaze to the high ceiling then sighed. He felt the heavy weight of responsibility drape upon his shoulders like the shadows of this room, and he shifted, hating that feeling.

  Looking at his hands—gauntlets of the black suit still covering his skin—he frowned then reached where the gauntlet met the armor of his arm. He tugged—nothing. It didn’t budge. Narrowing his eyes, he twisted his arm and felt for the seams to pull it off, but he couldn’t find a way to remove the armor. He tried and tried—pulled and tugged, looked for latches that secured the armor, but it all seemed seamlessly put together.

  “Ugh!” He gave one final tug then gave up with hunched shoulders. He couldn’t get the suit off.

  Outside of the chamber, Lorrek caught up with Fawn, who had sat on a low wall in a corridor and watched the progression of things while waiting for the sorcerer prince. Once he emerged and approached her, she took a deep breath and smiled at him. “Call me Radella from now on.” At his confused look and slowed step, she explained, “Fawn...that was the name my mother gave me when I was much younger. It has this...delicate sound to it—almost as if I can break at any moment.” She locked eyes with Lorrek. “I’m stronger than that. I determined that during the battle.” She cast her gaze off to the horizon, recalling the events that had taken place on the battlefield.

  Taken aback by her abrupt decision, Lorrek wasn’t sure what brought this on, but he nodded and tested the name on his lips. “Radella...very well.” Then he cleared his throat because he wanted to discuss another matter. “Vixen—is she well? Does she live?” He almost dreaded the answer, but he needed to know.

  Radella didn’t look at him for a long time but continued staring at the horizon, contemplating her words. Finally, she turned and set her gaze on him. “It’s...a complicated matter. Truth be told, I know not if she lives or not, but only time will tell.”

  Lorrek narrowed his eyes. “You’re hiding something.” This caused Radella to smile at him, but she said nothing. He took a step toward her. “Where is she? I want to see her.”

  “She is not on this world, if that is what you’re wondering.”

  Her words caused Lorrek to pull back. Besides himself, he hadn’t heard of any other sorcerer who had managed to magick from one world to another without the use of a World Orb. He knew Fawn—Radella—was powerful, but how could she magick such distances so easily?

  She smiled once more at his bewildered look and rose to her feet. “Don’t look so surprised. After all, I traveled many places even further away when I was locked away in that coma. Once I woke and regained my magic, I knew the location. All I had to do was will myself there. It was quite easy, actually.”

  Deciding not to contemplate everything she had just revealed, Lorrek shook his head and put his foot down. “I want to go to her. I want to see for myself that she still lives.”

  Radella nodded. “And I can do that. However...” She moved to pass him but stopped at his shoulder and looked at him. “There are a few matters you must first attend—the funeral of King Honroth, and the crowning of the next king of Cuskelom, whoever that may be.”

  Lorrek closed his eyes and bowed his head. He had forgotten about Honroth’s passing. How simple things would be if Honroth had lived! Lorrek could leave immediately to check on Vixen, yet Radella was right. His duties here were not yet complete, so he nodded. “Very well. Once the matters of state have been resolved, I will come to you, and you will take me to Vixen.” He locked eyes with her, so she could see that he was not playing games.

&n
bsp; “Agreed.” And Radella walked away, leaving Lorrek to his own thoughts.

  38

  Several days and nights passed since the end of the war, and many good men and women were laid to rest. The last of whom was King Honroth of Cuskelom.

  Night swept across the land, and well-wishers stood along the torch-lit street with candles in their hands. They hoped to catch a glimpse of the white carriage wherein laid their once faithful king. Walking alongside the carriage were the three remaining brothers of Cuskelom and their mother.

  Wavering shadows from the torches brushed over their solemn faces. There walked Prince Theran in strange black armor from Jechorm—the rightful heir but not the king. And there walked Prince Heldon—twin of King Honroth and most familiar to all the people of Cuskelom. Then there came the dark-haired prince—a man rarely seen who was surrounded by myths and mysteries. Seeing him now, he seemed so normal—so ordinary, but he carried a burdened aura and bore it well.

  After the ceremonies and the burial and the well-wishing and offered condolences, Heldon finally slipped away from the public eye as the palace finally succumbed to sleep. At his side, gripped in his hand, he carried the crown Honroth had hastened to put on that day when all this began. Heldon remembered that day now when the Jechorian ambassador came to Cuskelom, requesting Theran’s handblade. How it seemed so long ago!

  Stepping into the council hall—blue with night shadows with the beams of moonlight as the only source of light. In this very room Heldon recalled how he had stood as Honroth entered late to a meeting with the ambassador. He remembered how Honroth strode in with casual confidence, snatched the crown away from a servant and placed it on his head without breaking stride.

  Honroth always handled any situation with ease. Heldon had admired that about him and knew as long as Honroth was alive, no matter how much trouble he got into, his twin would always get him out.