by Simone Pond
She reached across to the jagged rocks with one hand, then stretched out her foot—keeping her eyes averted from the drop—and slowly began gaining purchase on the side of the mountain. Once secure in her grip, she started scaling the face sideways toward some boulders not too far away. Her knees scraped against the rough rock as the noonday sun beat down on her, but anything was better than the stifling heat of that infernal dragon’s den.
She shuffled sideways until she reached the cluster of boulders, then climbed atop one of them. She spotted her way out—a narrow “path” between the crevice of two giant rocks. She wedged her way through to the other side and came upon a mountain trail. As she cautiously trekked down the steep path, she hoped this would be her last journey through the Vindius Mountains.
She arrived at the foothills in the late afternoon and found heaven. Without hesitation, she jumped into the cold, refreshing river. Her body temperature plunged and it felt great. After gulping mouthfuls of the clear water, she waded across the light currents to the other side. She thought she recognized the forest and hoped she could find her way back to the village. She also hoped Doran and Aine would still be there.
Evelyn laughed at herself as she hiked through the forest with her drenched tunic and sopping wet hair. She had renewed hope. One day she would become like her father—a legend. And when she said the words, I’m Evelyn of Gorias, dragon slayer, it would be true in the truest of senses. She’d killed the dragon that nearly destroyed the village and everyone would revere her to the highest.
She reached up to her neck out of habit to touch her mother’s locket, but it was missing. Somewhere in the chaos of killing the dragon, getting blasted out of the cave, and scaling the face of a mountain, she’d lost the locket. It was a small sacrifice, but her heart felt heavy. She missed her mother. Maybe it was time to head back to Ocelum … No. There was work to be done. She had to find Aine and Doran and get the crystal stone. She had to return to Verubri Castle and rescue her father.
And maybe even kill Prince Kieran.
4
Ciara stepped down from the carriage and began down the stone path leading to Queen Boudicca’s castle—a magnificent marble structure overlooking the White Sea. Ciara forced herself to walk with grace and ignore the pain from the previous night. She maintained a steady gaze and peripherally took in the exotic gardens and manicured lawns. Skinny trees lined the walkway, their trunks long and opening in a burst of green leaves.
“Palm trees,” said Kateline.
Ciara quickened her pace to remain a few steps ahead. She needed to stay sharp, and Kateline served as a distraction.
Prince Kieran came bustling up the walkway and sidled next to Ciara. “The fate of Galicia’s future is in your hands,” he said.
“Perhaps you should remain with the men and your trunk of gold,” she suggested, coldly.
“My lady, do you think I’d actually leave such an important matter in your incapable hands? You’re good for one thing only.” Prince Kieran eyed Ciara’s cleavage and licked his lips. “But since this ice queen will only communicate with the weaker sex, I have no choice but to have you represent my kingdom. I assure you, if we don’t reach a favorable outcome, it will be a fatal mistake on your part.”
She knew the prince would do nothing to harm her—not if she had the dragon slayer’s journal that he so deeply coveted—but she smiled with respect. Better to keep him in the dark for now.
The giant turquoise doors opened as the three of them approached the castle’s entrance. Two women wearing gowns of red chiffon sauntered onto the walkway and bowed, welcoming the party inside.
The entrance opened to a spacious courtyard. At the center stood an enormous marble fountain of a female cradling a child against her breast. Exotic flowers and trees filled the exquisite gardens throughout the courtyard. Ciara wanted to soak in the extravagant beauty, but the two women greeters ushered them along one of the walkways to a doorway.
One of the women stopped—a stunning brunette with jade-colored eyes. She hooked her arm through Prince Kieran’s and said softly, “You, Prince Kieran, must come with me to the men’s parlor.”
He stood still, eyeing the woman carefully. “I understand, but you must call for my men. I won’t wait alone.”
The striking brunette bowed before him and the two sauntered off in another direction. Ciara felt a weight lift from her chest. She was so pleased to be handling this truly on her own account. It would be her first test, and she had no doubt she would come through on top. Queen Boudicca was probably used to everyone catering to her every need, but Ciara had other plans.
The blonde greeter opened the double doors and invited Ciara and Kateline into the grand reception hall. Kateline remained a few feet behind, remembering to keep her place. Quick learner, Ciara mused as she stepped into the spacious white room and inhaled the warm sea breeze. Where others might cower in such a place, the grandeur of the hall fueled her confidence. She squared her shoulders and scanned the glorious room, picturing it being hers one day. She took in the tall archways that opened up to sweeping views of the White Sea and felt as though she had stepped into paradise.
“I could get used to this,” she said to herself.
“Come,” said the blonde, waving Ciara forward.
The three women glided gracefully across the marble floor in silence. The soft panels of white fabric billowed like waves from the open archways, creating an ethereal, dreamlike state. Beautiful melodies of lutes drifted and swirled in the air. At the far end of the hall, Queen Boudicca sat on a throne of shimmering jewels. Her crown, which looked to be made of diamonds, shone like the sun. A path of rich red rose petals led up to the throne.
The blonde paused and whispered to Ciara, “You may approach. But keep your gaze lowered.”
Ciara smiled at the wispy blonde-haired beauty and proceeded forward. Kateline stayed back.
Upon approaching the queen, Ciara bowed her head out of respect. “Your majesty. It is an honor to meet you. I am Ciara of Verubri.”
Though she hadn’t officially taken the prince’s name, she figured why bother with semantics. She then lifted her chin and looked directly at the queen, ignoring the request to keep her gaze lowered. A jolt struck Ciara upon taking in the woman. Queen Boudicca’s skin shimmered like iridescent moonstone. Ciara tried to look away, but she couldn’t turn from this woman’s otherworldly beauty. Her eyes spun in pools of turquoise, and her wavy verdant hair shimmered like the breast of a hummingbird.
“Ciara of Verubri,” Queen Boudicca stated.
Ciara was supposed to have the upper hand and handle the negotiations like a professional. But the queen’s voice funneled into her ears like the call of a siren, and Ciara dropped to her knees before the throne. All of the fervor she’d carried into the negotiations vanished and Ciara felt like a child under this woman’s resplendent spell.
“Rise, Ciara of Verubri. Unless you prefer to kneel.”
The shame of her reaction flushed over her body and a rosy glow stood out against the ivory material of her gown. How she longed to reel in just one inkling of composure. Perhaps this queen was a sorceress? Or a silky? She certainly wasn’t a hundred percent human.
With her gaze lowered, Ciara rose to her feet and told the queen, “My apologies, the journey was long. And I had not expected to be so … well, quite honestly, enchanted by your grandeur.”
The queen’s laughter sounded like a chorus of songbirds. “Do you think the king of Russex would dare leave such an important task of holding his prisoners to anyone less worthy.” It wasn’t a question.
“I … well …”
“That is why you’re here with your prince, is it not? To negotiate for the release of Clovis and his men.”
Ciara nodded. “It is.”
“I cannot help you.” The queen struck her scepter to the platform, ending the conversation.
The blonde who had escorted Ciara into the room appeared. “It is time to go.”
&
nbsp; The wheels of Ciara’s mind spun. If she left this room without having successfully handled negotiations, Prince Kieran would have her thrown into the White Sea. She didn’t even have a chance to discuss an alliance with the queen. Though from the tone of disgust when she referred to the prince, Ciara could guess that was the last thing the queen wanted.
The blonde pulled Ciara down the rose petal path. “It is time to go.”
“But she hasn’t made an offer,” blurted Kateline.
Ciara turned to Kateline with surprise. What did the girl think Ciara had that could possibly appease this sorceress queen? Did Kateline think Ciara would simply lay herself before the queen because of what happened with the prince the previous evening? Never again would Ciara become a sacrifice. She’d rather die in a watery grave at the bottom of the White Sea.
“Halt!” said the queen.
The blonde stopped and bowed her head. Ciara slowly turned around, making sure to keep her eyes lowered.
“What is this offer you speak of, girl?” The queen addressed Kateline.
“A trunk of gold. Enough to build five more castles like this one.” Kateline sounded confident and strong, refusing to be intimidated by the powerful queen. This made Ciara sting inside a bit, but it also made her respect Kateline. She had saved her once again.
“Gold is rare in these parts,” said the queen.
Ciara decided it was time to take the reins and stepped forward toward the throne again. “Yes, we know. Which is why we come bearing this gift. We want to make an alliance with you. To stop King Oren from advancing his kingdom any farther north. This gold is only the beginning of what’s to come. It is a sign of our good faith. But in order to stop the Russex empire from expanding, we must recruit Clovis and his men. It is the only way.”
Kateline rushed out of the reception hall, no doubt to call on Watlington and the watchmen to bring in the trunk. Ciara loathed the fact that the prince had properly assessed the situation and had the foresight to bring the gold. She was an amateur playing with a pride of lions. This could never happen again. Not if she was going to be Verubri’s queen. She’d do whatever it took to ensure she’d never play the fool again.
“Come,” the queen ordered.
The promenade down the rose petal path was an excruciating and humbling experience for Ciara. By the time she reached the queen’s throne her eyes blurred with tears.
“Look at me, child.” The queen’s voice offered a comforting tone, and Ciara tilted her head upward to the glittering throne of jewels.
“Yes?”
“I was once like you. Full of vigor and determination. But gaining all that you wish for doesn’t always turn out the way you had imagined it.”
Ciara glanced out toward the sea and around the enormous reception hall, then back to the throne. “I’d say it worked out quite well for you,” she said.
“Things are not always as they appear to be. I lost what was most important in order to gain all of this. Betrayal destroyed my heart, relinquished my silky nature, and now I have no choice but to remain in this prison I’ve built for myself. I see the way your eyes shine as you soak in this exquisite beauty and my abundant power. But if I could return it all in exchange for what truly matters, I would.”
Ciara chuckled at the thought of giving up this glorious kingdom. “And what could matter more than this?”
Queen Boudicca lowered her head, then returned her spellbinding gaze to Ciara. “Only you can answer that for yourself.”
At the far end of the reception hall came the clamor of doors shutting and the shuffle of people coming toward the throne. Ciara turned to see Olen and the other watchman lugging the enormous trunk across the room with Kateline following close behind. As they got closer she noticed they’d been blindfolded. Prince Kieran and Watlington were not present, which brought relief to Ciara. She didn’t want the prince to know how poorly the meeting had gone.
The blonde woman ordered the watchmen to deposit the trunk before the throne, then quickly leave the reception hall.
Kateline joined Ciara’s side and without asking, she reached for Ciara’s hand as the queen stepped down from the throne to open the trunk. When the lid was open and the gold displayed before Queen Boudicca, her entire body lit up like the moon.
“A thing of beauty,” she sang.
“You’re pleased?” asked Ciara.
“I am.”
Ciara boldly approached the queen and reached for her arm, gently caressing her silken skin. “Enough to free Clovis and his men? To trust us enough to form an alliance?”
The queen turned to face Ciara and smiled. “Enough for even that.” She ordered the blonde to show Ciara and Kateline out and to take them to the prisoners.
On the way out of the queen’s castle, Kateline stopped and took Ciara’s hand once again. “You mustn’t come to the prisons. They’re no place for a lady. Get back to the ship.”
Ciara had no argument. “Thank you for your help. I would like to give you a proper show of gratitude for what you did here today.”
Kateline pulled Ciara into an embrace and whispered into her ear, “It’s my honor to serve you, Lady Ciara.”
A shiver trickled down Ciara’s neck as Kateline pulled away just as the prince and Watlington approached.
“I hope for your sake this is a congratulatory moment,” said the prince.
“It is,” said Ciara, stepping away from Kateline.
The blonde came forward. “I will take you to the prisons, but we must go now.”
“I’m staying with the carriages,” said Ciara.
“Of course you are.” The prince snorted. “I have no use for you from this point on. And don’t think handing over the gold didn’t go unnoticed. It appears you are as weak as I presumed you to be.”
Bile crept up Ciara’s throat and burned the back of her tongue. She’d spit in the prince’s smug face if she thought she could get away with it. Instead she curtsied, then stalked off to the carriages where Olen and the other watchmen stood waiting.
5
A hush settled through the village as Evelyn made her way barefoot and clad only in her tunic down the middle of the dirt road. Birds were making their final calls as dusk settled into night. It seemed far too quiet for Evelyn. Where were the villagers? At this hour they should’ve been out and about preparing for supper or gathering together in the lodge to socialize. Had they all packed up and run off? She hadn’t been in the dragon’s cave that long. Or had she?
Evelyn picked up her pace. The eerie atmosphere was becoming suffocating.
When she reached the lodge and creaked open the door, she found the place empty—not a single soul in the room.
“Hello! Anyone here?” she yelled out, just in case someone had been hiding.
More unusual than no patrons being present at this time of night, the tables and bar were littered with half-eaten loaves of bread and pieces of ham with flies buzzing around. Cups were either partly or completely full. Even more uncanny were the swords, pickaxes, and javelins that had been left behind. It was as though every villager had vanished into thin air. This hadn’t been an act of the dragon. If it were, nothing would be standing and there’d be scorched remains throughout. This looked like a quick evacuation, unplanned, for they’d never leave without their weapons. Something horrible must’ve happened, and Evelyn was convinced Prince Kieran was behind it. At least she could take some solace in knowing that the knights hadn’t slaughtered the villagers, otherwise their bloodied corpses would be piled in the square. There were no signs of battle or death. So where in all of Galicia were the villagers? And where were Aine and Doran …
Evelyn was seized with the reality that she was all alone. And she didn’t have the spear of Gorias. And her father was still trapped inside Verubri Castle. And Prince Kieran was either on his way back from his travels, or he had already returned. Summer solstice was inching closer.
She needed to remain calm.
The best remedy at that m
oment was found in one of the giant barrels of ale behind the bar. She poured herself a cup and drank it back. The soothing warmth of alcohol settled over her body and soothed her nerves. She decided to search around to look for clues and maybe find someone who might’ve been hiding.
She grabbed a javelin and headed up the stairs to the second-floor tenant rooms, entering the one Doran had been staying in.
“Doran?” Evelyn called out as she stepped inside.
The room was empty. The rumpled blankets strewn on the bed and the open drawers told Evelyn that Doran had left in a rush. The other five rooms were empty and in disarray as well.
From downstairs came the crash of glass shattering.
Evelyn crept down the staircase, peeking over the banister to the main floor. She laughed. A coyote was perched on top of the bar, gobbling up a plate of ham. But her amused relief ceased the moment the sharp point of a sword pressed at the back of her neck.
“Drop the weapon, miss,” a man ordered.
He had a polished voice, free of any accent like the villagers had. Too polished for a marauder. Evelyn assumed he was one of the knights from Verubri Castle.
“Now,” he said, sternly.
Evelyn dropped the javelin and watched it slide down the stairs. The coyote jerked its head up and darted out the front door. Evelyn lifted her hands in surrender and slowly rose. The tip of the sword was now pressed into her lower back.
“Go on down the stairs, slowly, miss. We’ve got some business to discuss,” said the man.
She glanced over her shoulder to get a peripheral glimpse of her captor. It was indeed one of Prince Kieran’s knights in full armor. He must’ve been well past six feet tall and towered over Evelyn—the added height of the steps only made him more intimidating. Most likely he was among the prince’s men who had divested the village of its people. Did he think she was a villager they had missed? And what sort of business could he possibly want with her? He probably planned to have his way with Evelyn, then leave her for the coyotes to scavenge.
