“Yes, well. It will only help your cause to keep your assumptions to yourself,” she said snidely.
“Very well.” The prince heard the exhaustion in Iren’s voice.
Talia walked the length of the wall. She put her hands out and pointed to the ground down the beach more. “They were here?”
“I know not whom you speak about, witch,” the old man chided.
“No, you know exactly whom I speak of. That red-haired bitch and her son.” She pulled her dress from the ground, forgetting her grace of gliding, and sprinted down the beach. She moved around in a circle, switching from the imprints by the wall to the lines of prints up and down the beach and out to shore. “There were more. Who else was here, Iren?”
“I cannot tell,” he said through the wall. His amplification diminished.
“Cannot? Or will not? You old fool! Don’t you know what I can do to you?” she threatened.
Landon thought he was about to fall over where he stood until he realized he was being lifted off the beach. His mother moved a moment after him. The air chilled as they went. One…two…three hundred feet at least, to lift them up and over the wall. He took a moment to look at the green glow below him, as he was raised up and over the thorns and grasped he’d been right in his assumption. The light from below looked terrific, like a sea of green in the twilight.
They touched down near Iren, though he didn’t move away. He stood tall. Taller than Landon thought he’d be. His long white hair and beard were neat. His clean white robes covered him from neck to toes. Not even his hands could be seen while at his waist. He could have very well been a floating head.
“Do you forget who put you here? You thought you were so powerful. Never realized I’d been siphoning your magic from the very beginning. You may have been able to save yourself, had you caught on earlier.” She strolled to the man.
Landon noticed he didn’t flinch as she neared him. He didn’t even blink. This man— sorcerer— whatever he was called was not afraid of her, but why didn’t she realize it?
“I have not forgotten my most prized student. My would-be successor, ruined. Even took the ones who came after,” he said solemnly.
“Successor? Like I would sit by while others without power ruled. No, that is not what I have in mind for my future. As for the rest, I couldn’t very well allow another one of you running around. Though there was that one… what was his name?” She walked around him then. Slowly; maliciously. “Charlie?”
“It was Charles. He was twice the sorcerer you ever were,” the old man said of his departed student.
Landon stood quietly, watching the interaction between the two of them. He wondered if he was supposed to be doing anything, but as his mother hadn’t told him about the visit, he stayed quiet and listened. Taking in all that was said. Many of which he heard for the first time.
“Yet, he is gone, and I am here.” She circled him and came to a stop at his side. “What were they doing here, old goat?”
“Who, Talia?”
“You know perfectly well who. Don’t try to confuse me. It will do you no good, old goat.” She stopped behind him and whispered over his shoulder, but not too low that Landon couldn’t hear. “I can do worse things to you than banish you to this island.”
“Then do your worst, witch. I will tell you nothing, other than this.” He turned his head to look at Talia, who was at his side, staring at him. A smile spread thinly across her lips.
“Do tell,” she whispered, and a shiver traveled up Landon’s spine.
“I will tell you that you will lose this game of yours. No matter what web of evil you weave, it will not end nicely for you.” He turned his head once more to look at Landon. “You, you are another story altogether. When you learn of your truth, you will have a decision to make. I pray you make the right one.”
“Enough of this!” Talia took one calculated step backward and waved her hand around in a circle in front of him, her arm outstretched. The green from the wall spread to encompass the sorcerer's body.
He screamed in terrible pain. Landon heard his bones crack and break, but he didn’t drop to the ground. Instead, his head grew, and his body followed. His skin turned a bright shade of green and turned into a hard armor of scales. Horns sprouted from his head. His fingers became visible from underneath his robes, and elongated, growing talons as long as his forearm had been. The clothes he wore split in two as his body expanded. When the magic completed, he was as tall as a small house.
Talia pointed her hand, still aglow, and walked toward the giant beast. “Now, Iren, my not so little goat, how shall I make you enjoy the rest of your immortal existence?” She pushed forward.
Landon had no choice but to follow as she forced the sorcerer into the castle nestled in the meadow of the small island. They walked until the sun sunk entirely from the sky. The moon beamed bright overhead with the twinkling stars.
When they reached the castle, Talia lifted her other hand. The gate raised, and the drawbridge fell over the small stream surrounding the structure. The beast walked with its head bowed, dragging a long snake-like tail behind it. Its scales continued to glow green, but Landon couldn’t tell if Talia’s magic was the cause or if it was his natural coloring.
When she got him into a large room, at the center of the castle, a chain the length of the room appeared. A cuff clasped around the sorcerer’s ankle and clicked.
“Now, before you think you can just pull that free, let me warn you.” She released the magic around the beast and moved her hands in front of the wall holding the chain.
It turned from cold, gray stone to thick black bars. The stone broke from the ground, shooting up in a spray of rock and sand. The bars dug into the earth and grew up to the roof of the castle.
“You’ll not be escaping easily. Your immortal years will be spent in the dark, away from life and love. This castle is now your prison. Nobody may enter, and you will never leave. That’ll teach you to be cross with me,” she left, her laughter a piercing screech as she went.
Landon saw the sorrow in the beast’s eyes. He bowed his head when his mother was out of earshot and spoke into the darkness. “I’m sorry.”
“You must make the right choice.” The sorcerer used his own voice to warn Landon before the prince ran from the castle.
The ship took them back to the shores of Grotia and the southern port. Talia made sure the carriage waited for them. She was anxious to return to the palace.
Her hands never sat still. Her knee bounced on occasion, but she never spoke. With her eyes closed, the wicked grin she’d worn since walking out on Iren was the only sign that she was still conscious.
Landon had tried to speak to her once, but she held up a finger. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to remember.
To remember the look on the sorcerer’s face when his body transformed into a massive dragon, complete with green scales. Landon couldn’t get the look in the old man’s eyes out of his mind, so he wouldn’t be closing his to remember those last moments any time soon.
When the carriage pulled to the front of the palace, she all but jumped from the door, but seemed to remember herself at the last moment. “The king exits first.” She pointed to the door from the edge of her seat.
Landon nodded, not interested in speaking out any longer. He stepped out of the carriage and waited for his mother to exit. Her hand came out first, sliding into his outstretched one. Then the rest of her emerged, and even the smile she’d worn had been replaced with the regal look of a queen. A slight lift of the corners of her mouth remained. Landon had no doubts her earlier look would return again once they were away from the eyes of the people.
When they entered the palace, she looked overjoyed.
“What is it, Mother?”
“Shh, I told you not to call me that,” she snapped at him in a hushed voice.
“It’s easily explained. I’ve abandoned my true mother for you,” he told her.
She appeared stunned at his s
uggestion. “You make an excellent point, my son,” she said in a normal voice, so the guards and others who walked the halls could hear her. She searched until she found the right maid. “Has she arrived?”
“Majesty?” The maid seemed unsure.
“Lady Layana. Has she arrived?” The queen remained somber, almost genteel.
“Yes, Majesty. The lady waits in her chambers.” The woman bowed and continued on her way.
“Lady Layana?” Landon asked. He’d remembered the name from his lessons with the sisters.
Lady Layana, the current ruler of Omath. She lost her parents around the time of Alara’s sleeping curse. He was taught that she became so distraught over losing them, that she became a recluse. She never left the iron tower of her home. No one gained admittance to the house, and she only kept one servant on to care for her. The rest of the house didn’t need tending, as it had been closed up as if no one lived there. Sheets covered the furniture, the drapes in the windows were kept shut, lights never lit, and all deliveries had been made to the only door anyone had ever seen opened; the one leading to the home's kitchen.
“Why would Lady Layana leave her tower? She’s never gone outside. Not since…” His words dropped off as they walked toward a set of double doors trimmed with gold and rose etchings.
“That was before her queen invited her to the palace. Stay quiet.” She glared at him and flung open the double doors on her own, not waiting for the guards to open them for her. She wanted an entrance, bold and commanding.
Layana stood in a hurry and curtsied. The girl was obviously pained. It must have hurt her a great deal to have left the home she’d kept herself in, Landon thought until his mother spoke.
“How lovely of you to join us at the palace,” Talia said, stopping a distance away from the young girl. She appeared no older than Landon. Her long blonde hair fell to the floor around her feet. The light pink gown made her skin look rosy despite the lack of sun she’d been exposed to in all the years she spent locked away.
“I didn’t really have a choice in the matter, now did I?” She gave the queen a look Landon had never before seen anyone give her. “Though it is nice to be able to get out of that dusty old tower, why have you brought me here?”
Talia walked the length of the room, being careful not to get too close to the girl. “I have need of your armies, Layana. I need you to gift them to me.” She stopped and watched to see if the girl contemplated her answer.
She didn’t. Instead, she let out a loud and heady laugh. Her head reared backward. A maid came from the room nearby, and Layana held out a hand to stop her. “Why don’t you just take them, as you do everything else?”
“I don’t take anything.” Landon watched his mother sneer at the young girl before her.
“Oh, no. You’re right. You bargain. I refused you my power, so you took my parents and locked me in a tower, my only companion a maid. My only ability to see the outside world was through a narrow window. You don’t take.” She sat on the edge of the sofa behind her. “You beg. Then when you don’t get what you want, you take it under duress. So, I ask again…why not just take them? Or do I have nothing left for you to hang over my head? Are my parents finally dead then?”
“No, they live. As do all the others. As I said, I will not take them. They are too many. I need you to give them to me. They need to know it is what you wish. For them to serve their queen. I need loyal and obedient soldiers.” She threaded her fingers together in front of herself. “In the meantime, you are welcome to enjoy my…” She motioned to Landon. “Our home. You may roam the palace. See the gardens. Enjoy the sunlight.”
“No, it’s never that simple with you, Talia. There is something more,” she said, looking at the queen and then back at Landon.
“Really, Layana, so melodramatic. Landon will show you around. He’s only been here a short while as well. You may explore together.” Talia gave her son a look and left the room, leaving him with the Lady Layana and a scared-looking maid. Had she not moved to her mistress; Landon would not have noticed the plain girl in the room.
“King Landon. Alara’s son has aligned himself with the consort queen. I hear your brother, Talia’s son, has decided to fight for Alara’s cause. Isn’t that curious?” She hadn’t really meant it as a question, and Landon could tell by the look in her eye she said it as a jab at the truth.
“I couldn’t know what you mean.” He tried to remember the way his father would have stood in front of a subject. His shoulders squared, back straight; hands folded in themselves at his back. It was exhausting.
“Oh, come now. Have a seat, Landon. May I call you Landon?” She still gave him a defiant look she’d used with his mother. She honestly didn’t care.
“Why are you like this? Why are you so defiant?” he asked, not moving.
“Why?” she mimicked him. “Well, I have nothing more she can take from me. I’ve been a prisoner in my own home and haven’t been able to take my own life because of a spell she cast upon me. It’s the same one that kept me from leaving the perimeter of the gates; the reason why I can’t injure myself at all.” She seemed to consider something for a moment, then rose from the sofa. She grabbed a pair of shears from the table behind her and held them out to Landon. “Here, I want you to do something for me.”
“I’m not assassinating Talia.” His words were tense.
“No. Nothing like that. Cut my hair.” He took the scissors but hesitated as she turned her back to him.
His brows raised as he considered her request. “Why?”
“To show you something. Just do it,” she urged him.
Landon positioned the scissors in his hand and grabbed a strand of her hair. He put the blades against it and tried to cut the piece free, but they broke in his hand.
“See. I’m stuck, and nothing can harm me. Talia’s doing.” She turned to face him and the two halves of shears he held. “So, why should she scare me now?” She took the broken pieces from him and handed them to her maid, who walked around the room barefoot and held her head down.
“Okay, so you're impervious. What good are you to Talia?” Landon found he did need to make a decision, as the old sorcerer had stated he would. Having heard for himself what his mother had done, he couldn’t help being upset for what this girl had been through.
“You heard her. My army is the biggest of all of Anaphias. Tomas, your father commissioned my father’s armies when needed. Anaphias has no army of its own. They were only ever needed when your grandfather was on the throne.”
“I’ve heard very little about my family.”
“Being kidnapped as an infant and sent off to live away from all of this is bound to keep you on the outside looking in.” She moved back to the sofa and sat, but Landon remained where he was. “To be honest, I’m surprised she’s not raising an army to bring back her son. She’s spoken of him often during her visits, half hoping we would marry someday.” She blushed slightly and frowned down at her hands.
“Yes, well, I suppose Declan would be your type.” Landon thought of how he left his brother behind. He sincerely wished he’d returned to the palace with him. It was his greatest hope that they would eventually live together as brothers, even with Talia pulling strings.
“No, I don’t think she meant Declan. As I said, it's curious.” She winked.
“Yes, well. Things have been strange, to say the least,” he said, finally letting his shoulders relax.
“I agree.” She glanced down at her hands again before she spoke. “It was worth the trip just to hear my parents still live. Although, I’m genuinely sorry your father didn’t fare as well. He was a good man and a great king when he knew what was going on in his own kingdom.”
“What does that mean?” Landon took one calculated step forward, his shoulders squaring off again.
“It means Talia has been running things behind the scenes for much longer than anyone would have thought. I have a theory about a few things, but nothing beyond speculation. Mayb
e… maybe someday, I’ll enlighten you.”
“I may just let you.”
WITHOUT Maglana pulling them, they sailed down the open water slower than they had moved when they traveled to Idrisi. The ship stopped in the water about two hundred yards from shore, just as the sun began to rise. Seeing the brambles from further away and during the daytime hours, they looked more ominous than when they’d seen them last.
Cedric found a dinghy on the deck and lowered it into the water. After a night of sleep and food, Declan finally had a talk with Cedric regarding the incident the night before. Although it seemed neither of the two wanted to discuss it with the women.
Scarlett found it annoying how Declan mistreated Cedric. It was apparent, at least to her, Declan didn’t know how to feel about Alara being his mother. Yet, he did feel the need to protect her from the one person who spent the most time with her over the last twenty years. Scarlett didn’t know the specifics, but she’d heard them talking. She knew Cedric was chosen by the king himself to look over his sleeping wife. There was more reason behind choosing him to be her protector than there was for Scarlett remaining with the three of them.
When they started toward Ikrith for the first time, Scarlett thought of leaving them. She would have if she felt she had even a small chance at finding where all the missing lords and healers were. She couldn’t take the chance of getting herself killed. With Edward now gone, as well as her father, it rested with her to care for her people when her mother no longer could. She needed the friends she’d made.
Of course, it didn’t mean she enjoyed listening to the two men bicker over Alara anymore than the queen, herself did. It became tiresome, so when Declan apologized that morning after breakfast, she smiled to herself and went to find Alara to share the news with her. Alara had told her what they had spoken about the night before; how Declan had confessed his growing frustration regarding the way he should be seeing his mother, and how he actually saw her. As a kid who wished for a different life, she could understand his pros.
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