Ayden nodded as he followed Cedric out into the sunshine. He could hear the roar of the crowd from one of the fields near the palace. “Who is fighting there?”
“The Pixies.” Cedric pulled a much-folded scrap of parchment from his pocket. “Should you care to watch until your companions return?”
Ayden shrugged and followed as Cedric led the way to the stands, finally stopping at the gate. Ayden stepped forward and grasped the bars with his hands, peering through.
It wasn't what he had expected. Instead of Pixies dressed in full armor, wielding clashing swords and heavy shields, three Pixies cavorted in the field, singing, turning handsprings, chanting poetry, dancing.
Along the outside wall stood the three Dimn, motioning as their Pixies moved, and the energy of the Pixies waxed and waned as the time wore on.
One Pixie female tried a triple handspring into a double back flip, but the song from another Pixie swirled around her, so wild and crashing that Ayden could feel the sleep pervade his own eyes, even though he was not the target. A boy in the stands nodded off completely, slumping under the railing, and was only saved by the quick hand of his father, who caught him by the belt before he could melt over the side.
The Pixie who tumbled to the ground closed her eyes, her brilliant yellow hair gleaming in the morning sun as she curled into a ball, a peaceful smile on her face.
The Dimn threw his hat on the ground in disgust. “No, Meena, blue skies, get up! Tune out the song! It has no power over you!”
But the Pixie didn't get up, and the other two sang louder and cavorted more wildly than before.
At a motion from the tall, dark Dimn on the left, his Pixie abruptly cut off all song and sank onto the grass, crossing her legs in front of her, her hands relaxed across her knees.
The Dimn was speaking low, soft words, and his cross-legged Pixie had attuned her whole focus, her whole body even, toward the sound of his voice.
The connection between the two of them was so utterly overwhelming that not even the song of the competing Pixie could pierce the bond.
The second Pixie's voice dropped to silence as his Dimn struggled to figure out something else to do.
Then the Pixie who sat on the ground opened her lips, and the most gorgeous melody flowed out, filling the stands and the field, swirling through the gates, wrapping Ayden in its embrace.
All Ayden could think of was getting through that gate and meeting the Pixie on the field to … to what? Sit at her feet and gaze at her, or dance around her madly, leaping in joy, or...
The second Pixie had fallen asleep, collapsing in a graceful heap, to the groan of his Dimn.
The crowds went wild, and Ayden shook himself out of his trance, glancing around sheepishly, feeling silly for his reaction to the Pixie's song. Some of the other spectators looked equally foolish, and relief that he wasn't the only one filled him.
Movement in the stands caught his attention. A beautiful, blonde-plaited lady stood from the throne in the royal box, motioned graciously to the crowd, and then allowed two palace guards to accompany her through the curtains behind the box.
The King's royal chair was empty, though Kinna and Lincoln should have finished presenting their case before him.
Apprehension laced Ayden’s spine. “Shouldn't my friends have returned by now?” he asked Cedric.
“It's possible that the King is allowing your request. In which case, they may tarry to tie up the details.”
Ayden nodded, though his stomach remained tight. He opened his mouth to ask if he could join them, but the gate swung open, and the victorious Pixie and her Dimn exited. Ayden hastily stepped back, prepared to let them pass, but the Dimn bowed to Cedric. “Thank you, my lord, for arranging the Tournament. It is a privilege to be a part of it and a part of your divisions in the King's armies should we advance to the final.”
Ayden stared at Cedric. He had been unaware that this young-looking man was in any greater position than that of the Dragon-Master.
Cedric nodded. “I don't think there is a lot of doubt that you and Sage will be in the final. That was a beautiful performance in there, and quite a tribute to the level of psuche you have achieved.”
“Aye.” The Dimn nodded as he gently squeezed Sage's shoulder. “She does well with my instructions.” He dropped his hand quickly and stepped away, preparing to continue down the path.
Ayden took another step back, but Cedric had already begun introductions.
“Julian, this is Rickard of the Dragon Clan. He comes to us bringing a Dragon, a Mirage. He seeks to enter the Dragon late into the Tournament. The King is taking it up with two other members of Rickard's party at this time.”
Ayden and Julian cast slight bows at each other. Julian surveyed Ayden's clothes, his gaze neither accepting nor condemning, merely speculative. “You come from the Dragon Clan?”
“Aye.”
Julian nodded, his dark eyes thoughtful, and a rueful smile twisted across his face. “I have a dear friend who loved to spend her time with the Dragons, though she was a member of the Pixie Clan. It has been many months since I have set eyes on her, though.”
Ayden's thoughts immediately winged to Kinna. What other Pixiedimn would have such a fascination with Dragons?
He wasn't sure how to respond. He finally settled for obscurity. “I don't know that I would have seen her, sir. I have been away from the Dragon Clan myself for many months.”
Julian nodded, stepping onto the pathway, followed closely by Sage. The crowds in the stands had begun to disperse into the grounds around the Tournament field as they took a break before the next competition.
Julian bowed as he glanced up the pathway. “Well, my Pixie and I are going to go—”
He broke off as a lad dashed up to Cedric, panting. “Cedric, the King, he didn't listen...”
“Whoah, Jack-Boy, slow down. Calm yourself.”
The boy took three huge breaths, but his agitation was clear. His eyes met Ayden's. He stopped.
Julian glanced between the two of them. “May I be of help?”
“First, I must find out what is so important. Jack-Boy?” Cedric asked.
Jack-Boy scuffed his foot into the graveled pathway nervously, shooting repeated looks at Ayden as he lowered his voice. “The newcomers went to the King with their request to enter their Dragon into the Tournament.”
“I know that, Jack-Boy.”
“Aye, but then it turned out that the girl didn't have a mark, and it sent the King into a temper. He clapped both the girl and the Pixie in the dungeons.”
Ayden jerked forward. “Wait, Kinna is in the dungeons?” Panic shot through his lungs, and suddenly, he struggled to pull in the appropriate amount of air.
“Kinna?” Julian's voice whipped across Ayden's stunned ears. “Kinna is here?”
Ayden ignored him. “I have to go see the King right now.”
Cedric's hand on his sleeve shocked him as he attempted to bypass the group. “Let go of me!” He jerked backward, terrified of seeing the ashy cracks across Cedric's face.
None appeared; the Dragon-Master had caught only fabric.
Palace guards stood all around the Tournament fields, stationed at gates and lining the walks. “Nay,” said Cedric, “I will not try to stop you, but there may be another way, if you will accompany me.”
He motioned toward one of the tunnel entrances and turned. Ayden followed, but then stopped abruptly when Julian also decided to go.
“Where are you going?” he asked bluntly.
Julian met his gaze evenly. “Kinna is my best friend. If you're going to free her, I go, too.”
Ayden wasn't in the mood to debate. He jogged after Cedric, and the four of them entered the tunnels together, Sage shadowing close behind Julian, quiet and grave as her master led her into the torch-lit darkness.
The doors boomed shut behind them, and Cedric turned to face them. In a whisper, he indicated down the hallway.
“I can lead you to the dungeons, but I have no key for the cells. I'm afraid I will only be able to let you in to see your friends. Perhaps then you can work out something to do, formulate an idea or something.”
Ayden nodded, his jaw locked. “And then I’ll make the King choke on his order to imprison them.”
Cedric shook his head. “Don't underestimate the man, Rickard. I have lived here in the palace for several months, and I can tell you that he always has a plan. Always, his mind is working ahead, rearranging and manipulating, and he does not hesitate to kill if someone no longer fits into his plan. Generally, his death sentences are no quick execution either.”
“He wouldn't do anything to Kinna, would he? Kinna or Lincoln?”
Cedric looked troubled. “I wouldn't put it past him. Not carrying a mark is a high offense in West Ashwynd, as I'm sure you're aware. The fact that she was not carrying a mark and trying to work her way late into the Tournament would make him doubly angry. However, the King will want your Dragon in his armies, so...”
“Chennuh. If I could somehow get them free from their cells and to the door of the dungeons, Chennuh could get us away from here in a hurry.”
“Do you want to do that? Your Dragon is worth quite a bit to the King. Perhaps you can find some use for him as a bargaining chip?”
Julian had watched all this gravely. A moment later, he broke in. “Allow me to take care of persuading the King. You go find Kinna in the dungeons and reassure her that I am trying everything to keep her safe.”
“Julian—” Sage's low voice pulled Ayden's attention to the Pixie.
“Kinna's safety is more important than mine, Sage.”
The Pixie flushed a deep red. Her lips tightened until they turned pale rose.
Something in Julian's voice tugged jealousy from its dark corner, and Ayden glared at Julian. “I'll remind her that I am doing everything to keep her safe as well.”
“Of course.” Julian didn't smile.
“Then come, Rickard. Julian, the King will wish an audience with you anyway since you just won your competition, especially since he missed it. Go see him now while your success is still fresh in his mind.”
“Aye.” Julian turned for the doors again.
Cedric and Ayden jogged down the hallway past the Dragon dens. A glance under Chennuh's den door showed the mirrored Dragon snoring softly, his nostrils roiling smoke with every exhalation. Ayden felt a measure of relief. At least he wasn't blowing fireballs in hot anger at being chained up.
Cedric ran until he stopped at a door on the right side of the passageway and tugged on a brass ring. “This way, Rickard.” Cedric led the way, down, down a case of spiraling stairs. Ayden could hear moans, and a foul stench tainted the air. He wished they could start this day over again. What different decisions might they have made if they had known what the events of the day would bring?
Cedric searched the shadows of the cell block. Four hallways down, they finally found them.
“Ay—Rickard!”
“Kinna.” Ayden's voice choked as he saw her flame-red hair through the bars. He rushed forward, stooping to where she huddled on the ground. “It's freezing in here. Where's your mantle?”
“They took it when they threw us in here.” She glanced down at her shoulder and shrugged. “I don't have a mark...”
“I know, I heard.”
“How did you hear?” Her wide green eyes searched his face.
Cedric interrupted. “He overheard the message brought to me.” He squatted down next to Ayden, and Ayden instinctively shied away, afraid of contact. “Kinna, I must know, you are from the Pixie Clan. How long have you had this Pixie as your companion?” He motioned to Lincoln, who stood in the shadows of his cell and watched them with gleaming eyes.
“Lincoln?” Kinna swiveled her head to glance at Lincoln. “Since ... late autumn. He traveled with me when I left the Clan.”
“I see.” Cedric nodded. “So you were aware that he was a Seer Fey? A guardian?” He motioned to the symbol that hung from the chain around the Pixie's neck.
“A what?” Ayden's gaze jerked from Cedric to Lincoln and he stood. “Guardian of what?”
Lincoln refused to answer. Kinna stood, too. “He guards me, but that's all he will admit. He won't tell me why or for how long.”
“How did you know?” Pain shot into Ayden's temples from his tightly clenched jaw. His eyes bored into Cedric's face, and the auburn-haired Dragon-Master flushed.
“His necklace bears the symbol of the Seer Fey,” Cedric answered.
“A lot of good it did,” Lincoln growled. “Here we sit in the King's dungeon, caged on a King's whim.”
“Lincoln, it wasn't your fault—” Kinna began.
“I shoulder the blame, and I will answer for it. In the meantime, Dragon-Master, are you going to seek an audience with the King to try to release us?”
Cedric shook his head, and Ayden spoke quietly. “Who is Julian, Kinna?”
Kinna colored to the tips of her hair, but when she answered, her voice was quite steady. “He was a good friend from the Pixie Clan. Why? He's here, isn't he? For the Tournament. Did you see him?”
“Aye, he's here, and we met him. He is taking your case to the King at this present moment. He seemed to think it would be important that you know he's ‘keeping you safe.’” Ayden snorted.
But Kinna sagged in relief. “If anyone can talk the King into anything, it will be Julian. His tongue is lined with silver.”
Ayden glowered. He could read her attachment to the dark Pixiedimn upstairs as plainly as if it were written in the dirt before him.
He straightened to his full height. Questions spilled from Kinna's eyes as he turned to Cedric.
“I have to go check on Chennuh again. If the King does indeed want him so badly, I must stay with him to be sure he is safe and to make certain he harms none of the Dimn.” He flicked his gaze toward Kinna again. “I'm sure that you will soon be out; your Julian will strike a deal with the King.”
“Aye,” she said softly as he turned away. “But, Rickard...”
He paused, his gaze on the far door.
When she spoke again, a tremor wavered through her voice. “I know there is little reason to assume this, but ... the King seems so—changeable. When I told him my name, he—I saw hatred in his eyes, I know I did. Will you—will Julian be able to strike a deal while facing such virulent anger?”
Ayden forced a deep breath through his lungs, pushed the air back out. “I don't know.” He put one foot in front of the other, keeping his back stiff and straight as he stepped into the stairwell.
* * *
Under the cover of checking on Chennuh, Ayden followed twisting passageways through the bowels of the palace, searching desperately for the secret room Helga had told him about. He had to know where it was to carry out his plan, but after so many stone passageways, he was losing his sense of direction.
He twisted around a staircase, his steps treading lightly on the tomb-cold floor. At the foot of the stairs, he stopped short.
A woman stood not three lengths away, her mahogany hair cascading over her shoulders, her arms wrapped tightly across her chest.
Ayden said nothing; he couldn't tell if this woman would shout for the guards, but it didn't seem likely. Something in her posture pleaded with him.
“You are the one who came with the Dragon, are you not?” Her voice was low and silky, her dark eyes black wells of pain.
“One of them,” Ayden said warily. “Who are you?”
“My name is Selena. I know why you're here.”
Ayden kept his expression neutral. “Aye, for the Tournament.”
“Nay.” Selena shook her head, her face hardening for a moment. “Don't toy with me, Ayden of the Dragon Clan. I am a Seer Fey, and you have no hope of deceiving me. Come, I will show you the place you seek.”
Ayden hesitated as she turned on silent feet and continued up the p
assageway. After a moment he followed. Through two more doors and down another spiraling staircase, down, down, he followed her until she stopped outside of a heavy oak door.
She turned back to him. “If you would be so kind, I would ask a favor of you.”
Confused thoughts battered Ayden's mind. “What favor?”
Selena reached in the folds of her gown and retrieved a small parchment. “When you are ready to do what you've come to do, make sure Sebastian gets this.”
Ayden reached for it, hesitating before finally clasping the parchment in his glove. It was furled into a spiral with no sign of a wax seal. Ayden lifted his gaze to Selena's. “An open letter?”
“Aye. I want you to feel free to read it. It will make everything clear.”
Ayden fingered the edge of the parchment. “Why are you doing this?”
Shimmering liquid rimmed her dark eyes. “Because there is pain that is worse than death, Ayden of the Dragon Clan.” Slowly, deliberately, she moved close to him. By the time Ayden realized what her intentions were, it was too late.
She trailed her fingers across his cheek in a shocking, soft touch.
With a sharp cry, he tried to catch her body as the gray cracks raced along her skin, but there was nothing he could do. Ash rained in a curtain of death over his gloves to fall in a heap on the stone floor.
Ayden collapsed against the wall, buried his face in his knees and covered his head with his ash-flaked sleeves.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cedric
Cedric turned the last corner of the dungeon. He angled toward the stairs ahead.
“Liam.”
The name rang across the hallway, garbled, indistinct. Cedric paused, glancing into the deep shadows of the cell to his left.
“Liam, it's you.”
A quavering hand grasped the iron bar that caged the creature from the hallway. Cedric stepped closer, narrowing his eyes as he strained to see.
Kindle the Flame (Heart of a Dragon Book 1) Page 28
