They listened for a moment.
Nothing.
Kinnard opened his mouth, “Prince Lorrek—”
And suddenly a black blade came to rest against Kinnard’s throat, causing him to freeze while all others in his group unsheathed their weapons in response.
“Stay right where you are,” Reven ordered as she kept her handblade at Kinnard’s throat. She noticed the variety of weapons in this group of people—knives for the bandit woman, rifle for the armored woman, mere fists for the armored man, and a blue fiery orb in the hand of the other man who also had a broken arm. Well, this was quite interesting.
Across the way, Draben moved to place his handblade at the sorcerer’s throat, but Lorrek sensed the movement and threw his fireball in Draben’s direction, causing the thymord to dive out of the way.
Lorrek conjured yet another orb in his hand and glared between the two strangers. “Who are you? I can only assume you are the thymords I was warned about.”
Reven didn’t stand down but kept her weapon at Kinnard’s throat. She slid her narrow eyes to Lorrek. “And how do you know that?”
“Your weapon of choice—the handblades.” Lorrek jutted his chin toward them as if indicating to the gauntlet weapon over their hands. “Those are unique to Cuskelom only—and to the legendary thymords. Seeing you are not of Cuskelom, else I would know you, I can only assume you are the thymords. The queen of Cuskelom warned me you may be coming. You seek the bracelet of Rykeldan, do you not?” He lifted his brows as he glimpsed back and forth between the two thymords.
Draben, who had recovered from nearly being struck by Lorrek’s fireball, stood with his handblade drawn and ready. When Lorrek asked this question and locked eyes with him, Draben narrowed his eyes. “What concern is it to you?”
For a moment, they all remained in a standoff—Vixen, Theran, and Zoyra slowly moving to have each other’s backs while Lorrek kept Kinnard in his sights at all times.
Lorrek fixed his gaze on Reven, reading her intentions with magic, and then he turned his head to Draben and did the same. Once he determined both were honest and had good intentions, he extinguished his fiery orb by closing his fist and lifted his uninjured hand in a gesture of peace. He gifted them with a smile but knew they likely wouldn’t trust it. “We seek the same thing.” When the two thymords looked doubtful, Lorrek nodded. “You seek the bracelet of Rykeldan. We seek the one who wears it.”
“Is it a woman wearing it?” Draben ventured to ask, earning the attention of everyone else. “’cause we’ve been specifically warned about having a woman wear it.”
Theran grunted. “What difference does it make?”
“Because our predecessors specifically said that no female should ever touch that bracelet or there would be dire consequences!” Draben glared at Theran, hoping he fully comprehended the seriousness of this.
Sensing they wouldn’t get anywhere with this line of conversation, Lorrek looked back at Reven and nodded to her. “It is a woman who wears it—the Princess Mordora of Nirrorm. She is also a sorceress....” Lorrek trailed off as Draben went on to unleash a tangent of cursing, but ignoring him, Lorrek went on. “We seek the princess because we wish to relieve her of the bracelet—”
“And what plan to do with it?” Reven didn’t back down but kept her weapon at Kinnard’s throat and her eyes on Lorrek.
Lorrek shook his head. “Pocket it away into another dimension where it will be irretrievable from anyone else.”
Draben frowned when he heard this. “You can do that?”
Lorrek looked over his shoulder at Draben. “Yes.”
Impressed, Draben locked eyes with Reven and shrugged. “It actually sounds like a good plan.”
“We’re supposed to retrieve the bracelet and have it in our possession. It belongs to the thymords—not some random sorcerer,” Reven reminded him through clenched teeth—her eyes never leaving Lorrek. “Do you know where this woman with the bracelet is?”
Kinnard raised his hand timidly, as he still had a sword at his throat, and this drew everyone’s attention to him for the first time. “She...she was here last I saw her. That is why we are here.”
Reven stared at Kinnard for a long moment, and then she pulled her handblade away from him and relaxed her stance. She nodded at Draben to do the same, and he hesitated but soon obeyed. Reven fastened her eyes on Lorrek. “We will work with you to find this woman, but when she is found, the bracelet is ours. Understood?”
Lorrek sensed things would not be that easy, but he nodded to Reven. At least they could return to the task of finding Mordora. He gifted the thymord with a charming smile. “I am Prince Lorrek of Cuskelom.” He saw how at the mention of ‘Cuskelom’ Reven’s face darkened, but he went on with introductions. “And that is my brother, Prince Theran of Cuskelom. This is Vixen of the Five Houses. That is Zoyra of Jechorm, and that is Prince Kinnard of Talhon.” He then looked expectantly at the thymords, and Reven motioned between herself and Draben.
“He is Draben, and I am Reven of the Thymord Order. Shall we be off?” She raised her brows but didn’t wait for an answer as she gave Kinnard a sharp look. “Lead the way.”
“This way.” Kinnard brushed past Reven to continue down a corridor. Reven followed after him immediately, and Lorrek lengthened his strides to fall into step with her while the others followed them.
Once walking beside the thymord, Lorrek lowered his voice and directed his words to Reven. “I know you come from Cuskelom and had dealings with my brother, King Heldon.” When Reven shot him a look, Lorrek nodded and went on. “I know you seek to have possession of the World Orbs and handblades.”
Reven kept her voice down and face neutral as she responded to him, “They belong to the thymords. We crafted them. They are ours.”
“And yet they ended up in Cuskelom under the protection of my ancestors, and we were trusted with their protection for a thousand years.”
“You think the World Orbs Cuskelom possesses are the only ones in the entire universe?” Reven gave a scoffing laugh then shook her head before casting Lorrek a smirk. “You’re sadly mistaken. There are more—many more—and we intend to retrieve them all.”
“If the World Orbs belonged to the thymords originally, why were they scattered in the first place?” Lorrek raised his brows, and Reven scowled.
“You may find out soon enough if we find this bracelet.”
And with that, they fell silent—each one contemplating the words that had been exchanged. Even Theran and Vixen reflected on what little they had heard. They wondered how this would unfold, but they also trusted Lorrek’s abilities as well as their own. They would be ready for anything.
As they walked, they passed many more statues in the hall. Every individual in this castle, both great and small, had been turned into stone, and each one had a look of fear in their eyes. Vixen found it easier to face when she didn’t look directly at any of them.
At last Kinnard led them to a certain chamber, and everyone went on guard as he pushed the door open. Reven moved to step in first, but Lorrek restrained her with a little magic, and he shook his head as he stepped in front of her. “Allow me to check the room for danger.” Ignoring the thymord’s feeble protest, Lorrek stepped in immediately with an invisible magic shield erected around him, and he surveyed the room for any threats. Finding none, he nodded to the others who filed in.
They found the room empty and looked at Kinnard expectantly.
The prince of Talhon could only offer a helpless shrug. “This was where she was last time I saw her. She had taken up residence here. Perhaps you can use your magic to sense something that will help us...?”
“Perhaps,” Lorrek muttered as he moved through the room, scanning it with magic to pick up Mordora’s trail. As he saw the chambers through the eyes of magic, he saw it glow with Mordora’s signature, but another glow he didn’t recognize intertwined with it.
“So...how is this supposed to resolve anything?” Draben spoke up, l
ooking to anyone for an answer. “Are we going to just stand around? She’s not here. We should be going...now.” He gestured to the door. “The longer we wait, the further ahead she gets, and that bracelet needs to get off of her before even more people are harmed.”
“What is so important about the Rykeldan bracelet? Why are you so intent on guarding it jealously?” Lorrek cast his gaze to the thymords as he withdrew from the magic realm.
Draben and Reven shared a look. He recognized that look in her eye, and he shook his head. “Rev, you don’t wanna do this. We shouldn’t talk about it. The less people who know, the better it is.”
“But if they’re going to help, they should know.” Reven fixed her gaze on Lorrek and gave him a curt nod as she moved to meander around the room, taking in everything that might be missed by the ordinary eye. “The bracelet of Rykeldan contains the essence of the last king of the kelliphs. Over a thousand years ago, he had set out to kill the entire human race on his world. He had gone mad from a broken Dragon Prophecy and sought to kill anyone in his sight, but a handful of humans rose up against him and managed to trap his essence in that bracelet. The Thymord Order had only been an order of knights and warriors prior to this, but after this happened, they were entrusted with the bracelet. However, they were warned that if any female ever came near it, Rykeldan’s power might influence her into taking possession of the bracelet, and once she wears it, he can control her and cause her to do his bidding.” Reven looked at Lorrek. “That is why the bracelet stayed locked away and in the hands of male guardians for this long.”
Vixen frowned when she heard this. None of it sounded good. Her gaze shifted to Lorrek and saw how he stared at Reven with a troubled look in his eyes, and she recognized that look. She snapped her fingers, gaining his attention, and she tilted her head to a corner of the room. “A moment, if I may.” Without leaving him a choice, she marched over to the corner, crossed her arms, and waited for him.
Lorrek went to her but said nothing. He could tell she had something on her mind, so he held his broken arm close to himself and waited.
Once they were far enough away from the others, Vixen kept her voice down as she addressed him. “That look—I know that look. You feel responsible for what has happened to Princess Mordora, and now you feel responsible for whatever prophecy they’re talking about coming to pass.”
Lorrek lowered his voice. “I taught Mordora magic. If I hadn’t, then perhaps she wouldn’t have sought after the bracelet and we wouldn’t be here.”
“And you feel like you have to fix this, don’t you?” Vixen raised her brows. “Well, you don’t. You’re not responsible for any of this. You’re human just like the rest of us. You had no way of knowing what would happen. It’s not your fault there’s even a bracelet of Rykeldan in the first place! You shouldn’t have to go after it to restore whatever balance has been lost.”
Listening to her, Lorrek remained silent for a moment, but then a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I know you are concerned for me, and I appreciate that, but I’m going after the bracelet anyway. That is why we are here.” He motioned to their surroundings—and could tell the others were simultaneously trying to listen and trying to give them some privacy. Lorrek locked eyes with Vixen. “I will do what I can to right what is wrong while it is within my power.”
Vixen stepped up to him, grabbed the front of his tunic and pulled him close, so he wouldn’t miss her fiery glare. Her tone remained quiet but firm. “Just make sure you do not sacrifice yourself as some sort of the scapegoat because you are not responsible for this.”
At first Lorrek merely stared at her, uncertain what she meant, but then he thought back—to Serhon, where he had volunteered himself to take Anelm’s place as Roskelem’s prisoner so that she might go free, and Roskelem stripped him of his memories. Lorrek thought back to Athorim where King Caleth demanded Lorrek go to Serhon to find Princess Anelm in return for Caleth to safe-guard Prince Moren of Nirrorm and train him. Lorrek’s mind drifted back to Nirrorm where he had promised Mordora he would go back for Moren after Countess Verddra had overtaken the kingdom, after he magicked her to the ambush site where Mordora’s father had been killed—due to an idea Lorrek had planted in his mind while the king of Nirrorm slept. Wordan had asked Lorrek to accompany him to help track down the supposedly kidnapped Countess Verddra, yet Lorrek turned down the offer because he had been busy secretly training Mordora and Moren to use magic. All of this was tied together, but only Lorrek seemed to see the string.
He offered Vixen a sad smile. He knew she meant well, although she knew none of these details. She didn’t know how much of this was his fault—his responsibility, and he had to try to fix things. “I appreciate your concern, Vixen, but I will do what I must to see to it that Mordora does not continue to harm others.” He phased through her grasp then turned to the others.
Seeing Lorrek’s body language and that the conversation was finished, Draben spoke up. “Well then, if we’re finished here, can we get to some actual tracking? This...Mordora is out there somewhere, and apparently she fancies turning people into stone. I don’t know ‘bout you, but I’d rather this entire world’s population not become a bunch of unblinking statues...” Then Draben paused as if considering his words, and he shrugged before adding under his breath, “Unless of course they’re all like you—stuck-up, self-righteous...”
Reven hit him on the back of his head, causing him to protest and whine at her, but she rolled her eyes, but Lorrek was already moving, heading out the door. Reven decided to follow him.
Theran glared at Draben but let the man walk ahead of him, and Theran brought up the rear. He didn’t trust this man, and Draben seemed to think Theran was mere technology. Theran almost preferred it that way. He had the element of surprise should Draben ever cross him.
“Where are we going?” Draben asked the question on everyone’s mind.
“To find Princess Mordora.” That was all Lorrek offered as he marched ahead, latching onto the tainted magic signature of the princess. He didn’t care what others thought. He was going to find her now.
14
Cloaked and with a guard on either side of him, Heldon passed through the quiet streets of Cuskelom as night crept across the land. When he was a prince, he openly walked these streets, and the commoners greeted him by name and treated him as a friend, clasping his arm and shaking his hand, asking if he would be visiting the tavern that evening.
How long ago that seemed.
Now he avoided any person on the street. His years among the commoners made him familiar with all the different shadows, so he knew which turns to take to avoid being seen. As king, he did not have the luxury to stop and chat with a peasant. Too much burdened his mind, and he had someplace to be.
At last, he came to the Crypt of Cuskelom. It was a building of the State and open to the public during all hours of the day, but it was barred at night. In the catacombs beneath this place, every member of the Cuskelian royal family lay undisturbed. The way down there was locked—never to be opened until another came to join the dead. That was where Heldon’s father, King Sindric, had been laid to rest, and Heldon’s twin, Honroth. That was where Loroth should be, but his body was lost forever.
Coming to the grand doors of the Crypt, Heldon lifted his gauntleted hand to the guardians of the Crypt at the door. They knew only the royals of Cuskelom wore the handblades and that only King Heldon wore it in gauntlet form at all times. The guards bowed to him and pushed the doors open.
Heldon signaled for his protectors, who had accompanied him, to remain at the entrance as he stepped inside the spacious building. This was where the commoners could come and learn the history of Cuskelom. A long corridor stretched before him, lined with marble pillars. His steps echoed on the marble floor, and his gaze swept up to the high, domed ceiling with narrow windows placed strategically so that during the day sunlight would filter through the windows down upon the statues, which stood in front of each pillar.
At this night hour, moonlight cascaded from the windows instead, giving the statues a softer appearance. Heldon looked at the first one—an old man with a beard, hardened features, and a frown. He wore a crown on his head and gripped his sword’s hilt at his side. King Garenthi the Great, one of Heldon’s ancestors, and one of the first kings of Cuskelom. Heldon cast his gaze to the statue across the corridor from Garenthi, and he saw the statue of another elderly man with a beard finely trimmed, features sharp, and eyes unrelenting. In his open palm, he held what appeared to be a fiery orb, indicating to his status as a magic user. King Haelm the Honorable, another of Heldon’s ancestors.
Heldon walked past each statue, acknowledging each of his predecessors to the throne of Cuskelom, until he finally came to a familiar face: King Sindric the Righteous. When Heldon came to this one, he stopped and stared. The statue didn’t look as Heldon remembered his father. The statue was taller than Heldon recalled his father being, but then again, he reminded himself that the statue was on a pedestal. The statue had the same frown and same crease of the brows and narrowing of the eyes Heldon had seen numerous times on his father’s face. Sindric had been a stern king and an even harder father. Heldon had very few good memories of him. All he could remember were the times Theran and he returned to the palace and were promptly brought before their father who reprimanded them harshly.
Finally Sindric banished Theran to Endleath.
Then the Rakessat attacked, his father was slain, Lorrek fell into the Orb of Oblivion, and the next thing Heldon knew, Theran left Cuskelom and Honroth was crowned king.
Nothing was ever the same again.
Heldon stared up at the face of the statue that resembled his father. “Would you be proud of me, Papa?” Then he chuckled and shook his head. “You probably never imagined I would be king. I know I never expected it.”
Then he gazed past the statue of his father to a face he was all too familiar with because he saw it every day in the mirror—the statue of his identical twin brother.
The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set Page 87
