Ordinary Girl (The Dark Dragon Chronicles Book 1)

by Ripley Harper

  Friendship. Trust. Common sense. Decency.

  Which brings me to their third mistake—trying to convince me that Ingrid and Gunn were swindlers, petty crooks trying to rob me of my great fortune.

  I mean, seriously? Those two? Have they even met them? My so-called ‘keepers’ might be flaky and exasperating and rather odd, but they sure as hell aren’t greedy. Money just isn’t that important to them; Gunn and Ingrid both march to a drummer only they can hear, and I literally can’t think of any two people in the world more oblivious to the allure of endless riches than those two.

  And so: I know this is a con. I know I am the mark. Now all I need to find out is what the prize is; why they did all this in the first place.

  We’re back in the dark, candle-lit hall.

  The judges are seated on their colored thrones. I am sitting on a “throne” of my own this time, a chair black as night. I am part of their half-circle now, no longer the accused.

  It seems we are waiting for something because the lords and ladies are chatting softly among themselves. I am totally awake and aware but I’m pretending I’m still out of it. I do a lot of nodding and a lot of smiling. I listen and I wait. There are a few more pretty promises, some more flattery, an air of relieved consensus.

  A sudden hush, and then the Red Lord stands up.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says. “Our purpose today is a grave and terrible one. From the South, from the North, from the East and from the West, from Sea and Sky, Earth and Blood, we have called you here to witness and to hear.”

  I slowly realize that we’re not alone in the hall. My eyes must have adjusted to the dim light or else the last of the drugs have finally left my system, because I begin to see dozens, even hundreds of people sitting beyond the circle of light thrown out by the candles.

  “We are faced with a highly disagreeable duty,” the Red Lord continues, “but this Court is unanimous.” He pauses for a moment, making sure he has everyone’s attention. “The decision has been made. You have been called here to witness the expulsion and banishment of the Waymonds, the last remaining keepers of the Black Clan.”

  There is a shocked gasp from the audience.

  “Banishing keepers such as these, members of an illustrious keeper family with an unparalleled record of service, is a task we undertake with a heavy heart. But you have listened to testimony from witnesses from all the clans. You have heard how the last remaining ward of the Black Clan has been cheated of her wealth, exposed to extreme danger, robbed of her magical heritage and kept in ignorance. You’ve heard about her unnatural relationship with her keepers, her unseemly friendships with ordinary humans, and her reckless exposure to the unclean magic of the Pendragons.”

  The hall begins to fill with unhappy murmurs.

  “As a specially appointed investigative body, this Court cannot, in all conscience, allow this situation to continue. We are therefore faced with the task of stripping the Waymonds of their appointed role as keepers, for now and all eternity.”

  A voice from the crowd: “This would mean the end of the Black Clan!”

  The Red Lord nods, his face grim. “It is a tragic outcome and yet it is one we cannot avoid if we are to take our duties seriously. The Black Clan’s resources will be divided among the four remaining keeper clans. In return, the leaders of the Order shall themselves take responsibility for the care and safety of their last remaining ward.”

  More unhappy murmurs. “What will happen to the Waymonds?”

  “They will lose their leadership seats in the Order and be declared Outcast. Their power and position will be stripped, and their lives will be forfeit if they dare practice magic again. It is a harsh decision, but to act otherwise would be an unforgivable dereliction of our most sacred duty.”

  So that’s what this is all about.

  As the hall erupts in a confusion of unhappy shouts and shocked whispers, the last piece of the puzzle finally falls into place: they want to get rid of the Black Clan in its entirety. This would not only give them control over that clan’s resources but also over me, the Black Clan’s only remaining ward.

  It seems though, as if they can’t do it without some kind of justification. There’s obviously at least a minimum of due process required, and they’re trying to use the evidence gathered during my so-called “trial” to legitimize their actions.

  But why the con? Why did they go to so much trouble to convince me that I’m alone in the world, that I can trust nobody but my new, all-powerful friends? Why didn’t they simply force me to fall in with their plans?

  Because they can’t do this without me.

  The answer is suddenly crystal clear.

  For some reason, they can’t do this without my cooperation. That’s why they want me docile, drugged, and convinced I have no real choice in the matter.

  Of course.

  I look around, realize how this must look to the other people in the hall. I’m sitting next to the lords and ladies, on a black throne, as if I represent the Black Clan and the Red Lord is speaking on my behalf. To outsiders it must seem as if I am part of this decision.

  “I know this is difficult to hear,” the Red Lord says, “about a family with such a long and distinguished history of service. But there is no other way.” He waves his hand in the direction of the six thrones behind him, implying that we all decided this together.

  This is the moment.

  Chapter 28

  The mountains shall run with blood, the valleys and streams shall fill with the bones of the dead, and the air itself shall burn with the fires of hell. Then the pure of heart shall witness the coming of a great darkness. Upon those who dwell in the light an endless night shall fall.

  For unto this world the Horror shall be born, the dark one, who was cast from Heaven.

  And lo! The curse of our destruction shall rest on its scaled shoulders, and its names shall be: Chaosbringer, Fireborn, Dreamweaver, Treasurekeeper, Worldmaker, Lifebreaker.

  The Old Words: Verse 18:10-13

  This is the moment.

  I stand up from my chair and walk to the front of the raised stage until I am standing right next to the Red Lord.

  “No!” I say, my voice ringing loudly and clearly through the huge hall.

  The Red Lord swings to face me. There are loud gasps from the crowd, shocked sounds from those on the thrones behind me.

  “The decision was not unanimous,” I declare loudly, playing to the audience, projecting my voice as far as I can. “I did not agree to this and I never will.”

  The Red Lord is staring at me, his mouth hanging slightly open. The rest of the hall is deathly quiet.

  “This court wants you to believe that my keepers have harmed me,” I say, “but that is a lie, a cold and calculated grab for the assets and the power that belong to the Black Clan.”

  A ripple of shock runs through the crowd.

  “How dare you?” The Red Lord’s face darkens with rage.

  “How dare you,” I spit at him, my indignation slowly turning to anger. “How dare you try to convince these people that this decision is unanimous, when you’ve had me so drugged up I can hardly think straight.”

  An offended cry from the Green Lord behind me: “That’s not true! She’s lying!”

  I whip around and walk toward him, my anger a slow burn inside me. “As the leader of the Green Clan, the promise keepers, the truth lovers,” I spit out the words with all the contempt I feel, “are you willing to swear to these people that I am the one who is lying here?”

  “This court acted entirely within its mandate,” the Green Lord blusters. “There is a clear precedent for keeping trueborn daughters calm and docile during judicial proceedings.”

  An uncomfortable muttering from the crowd.

  “And you!” I turn to the Blue Lord. “How do you justify this farce to yourself, when you call Ingrid ‘auntie’ and claim that you love her? To think I trusted you as a friend of my mother!” Hot, angry tears burn behind
my eyes.

  “Jess. Please. You don’t understand. This was done for your own good. I have nothing but the greatest respect for Ingrid, but she’s leading you down a dangerous path. You’re too precious to be exposed to such dangers. Don’t you understand? You’re the very last of your kind and you almost died—at a high school of all places!—not even a day ago.”

  “My dearest child,” the Red Lady soothes, “how can you expect us to sit idly by while your keepers expose you to such peril? How could any of us have lived with ourselves if you’d been killed by that pathetic, broken boy? You, who are the best of us—our precious treasure, our living flower.”

  I look into her eyes and I realize she means every word. But I notice something else too. Next to her, for the briefest second, a satisfied smirk flickers over the White Lady’s face.

  And suddenly I know.

  “It wasn’t my keepers who put me in that situation,” I say slowly as the truth finally dawns on me. “It was you.” I point an accusing finger at the White Lady, my voice starting to tremble. “You knew it was going to happen, didn’t you? You knew!”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The cool disdain in her voice turns my anger into fury.

  “Of course you did!” The truth is so clear I can hardly believe I missed it before. “You are Lady to the Skykeepers, and your core magic is Truth and Clear Sight. You were monitoring me that day when we went to Jeffrey Black’s house, and you saw right through his lies. You knew what he was going to do. You knew, and you didn’t warn anyone!”

  “You cannot prove a word of this,” she says calmly.

  “Prove?” My heart is now beating so fast that my blood is ringing in my ears. “This isn’t a game! You knew what Jeffrey was going to do and you did nothing to stop it!”

  I think of the pool of blood Miss Anderson died in. I think of Henry stumbling out of the building, his one eye missing. I think of the way I smashed Jeffrey’s head against that step, over and over again.

  I am crying now, silently, my tears warm and bitter at the back of my throat. “People died, do you understand? People got hurt, and maimed…”

  “She’s hysterical,” the Red Lord says, stepping closer. “And clearly still suffering from shock. We will help her rest and continue this process when she’s feeling stronger.”

  “Like hell you will,” I say, biting out my words through my tears. “The only thing I’m shocked by is the fact that anyone still believes a word coming out of your lying mouth.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying.” As the Red Lord focuses his gaze on me, I feel a wave of power coming from him, an alluring whisper loud enough for only me to hear. “You don’t know what you’re doing, child. Come, let us look after you.” He holds out his hand to me, his seductive magic curling around me lazily, luring me closer, sapping my will.

  I swat his hand away. “I know exactly what I’m doing. And don’t you dare try your pathetic bloodmagic on me either. Just who the hell do you think you are anyway?”

  For a moment he looks genuinely astonished by the fact that I have the strength to withstand him. Then he pulls himself together. “I am the Chief Justice of this Court.”

  “Yes. And what a corrupt, dishonest, grubby little court it is.”

  There’s a shocked silence at my words, and then the entire hall breaks out in excited shouts and whispers.

  “We will not stand for such insubordination!” the Red Lord cries. “Guards! Take her away and lock her up in the cell. She might come to clearer insights about the standing of this Court after a few days of reflection.”

  “Amit, I do not think that is wise,” the Red Lady says behind me, too softly for the crowd to hear. “What if she’s right, and Sonya really did know what that deranged boy was about to do? Surely that must change everything?”

  “Yes,” the Blue Lord agrees. “If she’s right about that, it wasn’t the Waymonds who put her in danger. It was the White Clan, who allowed their old fears and hatreds to get the better of them once again.”

  Interesting. So at least two of the judges didn’t know about Jeffrey. Maybe they aren’t all equally corrupt. Maybe some of them have been conned too.

  I find the thought intriguing, but it doesn’t lessen my anger.

  Three guards come closer. They’re not the guys in suits this time; these are big, burly men who look more like bouncers than secret service agents. They walk toward me, their faces grim.

  “Stay away from me,” I tell them.

  They move closer, until they’re standing right next to me.

  “I’m serious. Don’t you dare touch me.”

  “Take her away!” the Red Lord cries.

  The biggest guy reaches out a hand, a bit uncertainly. I think he’s afraid of looking like a bully in front of all these people. He’s about four times my size, with a chest like an oil drum.

  I glare at him. “If you touch me now,” I hiss, “you will regret it for the rest of your life. So back the hell away.”

  The guard swallows once and then drops his arm.

  I expect the Red Lord to repeat his orders to the guards, but he takes one look at them and then steps closer to me. “It’s best to go with these men,” he says. “There’s no need to fight us. We’re on your side.” This time he’s concentrating all his power on me and I feel waves of Enthrallment rolling from him: gently enticing and deliciously seductive.

  “Stop it,” I say. “I don’t believe you, and I never will, so you can quit your pathetic little magic tricks right now.”

  The flicker of fear in his eyes makes me realize something. The Red Lord is dangerous because he is manipulative and cunning, but his bloodmagic is relatively weak. His power lies in the strength of his personality, not the strength of his magic.

  He sends another wave of power my way. “You’re just tired,” he says soothingly.

  I am not tired. I am angry.

  A scornful laugh escapes my lips. “You will try your bloodmagic on me? Are you insane? I am a trueborn daughter, direct heir to the Tenth, and you are nobody.”

  There is an expression of real panic on his face now, but he doesn’t give up. Instead he sends more magic my way, wave after wave …

  “STOP IT.” There is power in my voice, a power I never knew I had. It flows directly from my deepest self, a blistering magic born of righteous anger.

  The Red Lord grabs his ears, his knees almost buckling beneath him. And suddenly it’s as if I can see right through him, right to the black core that is his heart. I walk over to him, trembling with suppressed emotion.

  “You knew what was going to happen at school, didn’t you?”

  He stares at me defiantly, not answering, but I notice that his skin is starting to go gray.

  “ANSWER ME.” The power flows from my anger straight into my words, a blazing force that cannot be denied.

  “Yes,” he admits. Then he touches his mouth, as if he’s amazed that he said anything at all.

  “Did you make him do it? Did you enthrall Jeffrey into doing something so evil?”

  “No. He was going to do it anyway; he’d been planning that attack for years. Sonya knew it was going to happen because she has Clear Sight. That’s all.”

  “But you did nothing to stop it.”

  “Human affairs are of no concern to us.”

  “People died!”

  “And many more will die, more than you can imagine. What do we care about them? If we want to make sure we are part of the handful who’ll survive what is coming, we need to take control of the last remaining true bloodline, and we need to do it immediately.” He looks past me, and I realize that he’s addressing the crowd now.

  I think of Miss Anderson’s dead blue eyes, staring into nothing. I think of Henry’s bloody face. I think of the bones in Jeffrey’s hand cracking under me.

  “You’re a monster.”

  “The boy would have done what he did anyway. We never placed you in harm’s way.” His w
ords reach me on a wave of Enthrallment, gently persuading me to believe him.

  A mistake: now I know he’s lying.

  “You’re lying to me.”

  My calm words cause a brief expression of shock to flicker over his face. He still can’t believe how strong I am; still doesn’t want to accept that they are the ones who’ve been misled.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “TELL ME.” My voice burns with the heat of my anger.

  The Red Lord falls to his knees, grabbing his ears. I hear sounds of distress coming from the crowd too, but I keep my attention firmly focused on the man kneeling before me.

  “We ordered the Skykeeper boy to take you to the library at school. We threatened to break his mother’s mind again if he did not cooperate.”

  My stomach makes a sick turn. “Did he know what was going to happen?”

  “No. He had no idea.”

  I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Why did you do it?”

  “Don’t answer her!” the White Lady cries. “Who is she, that this court must listen to her? Guards, take—”

  “QUIET.”

  The White Lady flinches away from me, her skin turning ashen. But she doesn’t give up. Her magic is stronger than the Red Lord’s—far stronger.

  “The juvenile has no right to make any demands,” she says, getting up from her chair and subtly moving away from me. “She has no standing here and—”

  “I SAID BE QUIET.”

  She falls to her knees, her face betraying her astonishment as she slowly begins to realize how far they had underestimated my power.

  I turn back to the Red Lord. “Why did you send me to school, when you knew what Jeffrey was planning to do?”

  “We didn’t believe you’d be in any real danger—”

  “TELL THE TRUTH.”

  He looks up at me with a fearful hatred in his eyes, but he cannot stop himself from answering. “We needed to convince Green and Blue that your keepers were endangering your life. They were unwilling to destroy the Black Clan without undeniable evidence that your safety was being jeopardized.”