by C. A. McHugh
Her father cast one more worried look to her mother before asking, “What do you know of the Kingdom of Elgeus?”
Chapter 2
Aerrin entered his study, his attention so fixed on his royal to-do list that he didn’t notice anyone until the door closed behind him.
Ice formed in the young king’s veins. Less than a week had passed since the demon’s assassination attempt against him at the Temple of Mariliel, and the sudden realization that he wasn’t alone sent a pulse of magic from the center of his chest into his hands. This time, he wouldn’t be the damsel in distress needing to be rescued. He’d attack first.
He whipped around, dropping his papers a split second before releasing the magic that throbbed in his fingertips.
A surprised yelp came from the doorway, followed by the scent of burnt hair.
At first, the person appeared as a blurred figure, but once he stopped, Aerrin recognized the lanky man who’d helped thwart the attempt on his life. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
Raimel studied the charred ends of his nearly waist-length hair and frowned. “And I was growing it out, too.”
Anger crept into Aerrin’s voice. “Answer me.” It was one thing to be caught completely off guard by a man he barely knew, but it was another thing to get such a flippant response to his question. He might be fifteen years old, but he was still the king after all.
Raimel tossed his hair over his shoulder and nodded to someone behind Aerrin. “I’m going to let you handle this before he tries to fry me again.”
“Like it would have much of an effect on you,” a deep voice replied with a dry sense of humor.
Aerrin whirled around again, this time to find Master Binnius, headmaster of the Academy of Arcane Magics, and Sir Ceryst, the other man who’d fought off the demon’s attack at the temple. The master mage was sitting in a chair and calmly sipping tea as though nothing was amiss, but the grizzled knight stood with his hand on his sword, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice if needed.
“How did you get in the palace, and why wasn’t I notified of your arrival?” Aerrin asked.
“I let them in,” Master Binnius replied, setting his tea aside. Binnius was old by human standards. His silver hair tumbled just past his shoulders, and the lines on his face spoke of the many years he had seen. But age was only a number to be spoken of once a year when his day of birth was celebrated. Those who knew him well still saw the inner fire of youth burning strongly within his bright blue eyes. “As for the announcement, I tried to make our presence here as discreet as possible.” His gaze slid to Ceryst.
Aerrin studied the former Knight Protector and tried to fight back the reflexive wave of suspicion that rolled through his gut. Ceryst’s fall from grace has been the stuff of legends in the Kingdom of Elgeus. He’d been the best friend and confidante of Aerrin’s father, Brendon, since they were youths. As a skilled warrior, he’d risen to the rank of Knight Protector and vowed to defend the royal family to his dying breath. And yet, in one fateful night fifteen years ago, he’d lost everything.
The night the Raven Bringer murdered Aerrin’s parents and left everyone to believe that Ceryst was to blame.
That night, Ceryst was accused of being the Raven Bringer and condemned to death. Yet somehow, he’d managed to escape, and fear blanketed the kingdom until Aerrin’s uncle, Prince Rythis, met the Raven Bringer in battle at Innishmore. The kingdom believed that both men perished in the fight, Rythis sacrificing his own life to destroy the fiend, but recent events argued that the Raven Bringer was far from dead.
But as he studied the knight in front of him, Aerrin knew deep inside that Ceryst wasn’t the Raven Bringer, not after he’d risked his own life to save Aerrin’s a few days ago.
He bent down to gather his papers, receiving some assistance from Raimel. “Can I assume from your visit that you’ve found the real Raven Bringer and have vanquished him?”
Raimel snickered and backed away. “Hardly. We’re good, but we’re not that good.”
“Then why are you here instead of hunting him down?” Aerrin dumped the papers on his desk to deal with later. There were far more important matters to deal with than administering permits and land grants to some spoiled nobles.
“Because I thought it wise to assemble a plan to assure your safety before we left Dromore.” Ceryst shifted just enough so his cloak parted to reveal the faded royal insignia on his breastplate. It may have seen better days, and he may have been hiding for the last fifteen years, but he still upheld his oath and took his duty to protect the royal family seriously.
“I’ll be much safer when you catch them.” Aerrin squared his shoulders as a new idea formed in his mind. “Or better yet, maybe I should come with you.”
“I think that would be very unwise, Your Majesty,” Master Binnius replied. “We already know the Raven Bringer has made you a target, and your training is far from complete.”
“But I feel like I’m cowering in the corner and letting others fight my battles.”
“It’s a battle I’m glad to fight.” Ceryst cracked his knuckles, his expression so intense that Aerrin reflexively took a step back, even though he told himself the knight would never harm him.
Aerrin twirled the signet ring on his finger. He’d just started wearing it this summer as a symbol of taking control of some of his royal responsibilities, but much like the duties he’d assumed, it was still too big. “Maybe so, but I’m still the king. I can’t afford to appear weak, and last week’s fiasco at the temple didn’t help.”
Raimel finally stopped fussing over his unfashionably long hair and grinned. “I wouldn’t call it a total disaster. After all, you did complete the cauldron lighting ceremony before the sun set.”
“And I’m still getting questions about what happened before that inside the temple’s inner sanctuary.” Aerrin sank into a nearby chair and rubbed his aching temples. He was walking too tight of a line. Even though he’d agreed to keep what actually happened that evening a secret, part of him wanted to announce the Raven Bringer had returned.
Of course, in addition to inciting panic throughout his kingdom, that would inadvertently set off a hunt for the one man the kingdom still blamed for his parents’ deaths. No, he’d promised to help Ceryst clear his name, and Aerrin couldn’t do that until he knew who the real Raven Bringer was.
He turned to the one man who might hold the answer to that question. “Master Binnius, you know without a doubt Ceryst isn’t the Raven Bringer?”
“I would stake my life on it.” Despite the seriousness of his words, a hint of an amused smile played on the old man’s lips. “Do you think I would endanger you by bringing him here if I suspected him?”
Point made. But it still didn’t answer the question he needed answered. “Then who is the Raven Bringer?”
“An asshole with an extremely small pecker,” Raimel replied without missing a beat. The younger man poured a generous glass of sherry before straddling a chair and adding, “And an even worse inferiority complex.”
“So you’ve seen him?”
Raimel drained his glass, but Aerrin caught a flicker of fear cross his face. “You can say we’ve been more than acquainted with each other in the past.”
A shiver coursed down his spine. How close had Raimel been to the Raven Bringer? “So you know who he is?”
Raimel shook his head and refilled his glass. “Sorry. He wore a mask the whole time he tortured me in an attempt to woo me to his cause.” He twisted his mouth into a weak semblance of a carefree smile, even though the fear still lingered in his eyes. “As you can see, it didn’t work. I guess he just wasn’t as charming as Ceryst.”
The knight cracked his knuckles even louder this time and glared at his friend.
One day, Aerrin needed to find out how these two very different men had become friends. But right now, he needed to focus on what his visitors knew about his enemy. “Who do you think he is, Master Binnius?”
The old mage p
ursed his lips, and his eyes glazed over as he became lost in deep thought. “That is a question that has plagued me for many a year.”
Aerrin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. As usual, Master Binnius preferred to answer with more riddles. “But you’ve at least formed a list of suspects, right? After all, you’re supposed to be the most powerful mage in the kingdom. Surely, you must have come across someone of his power before.”
“I had blessedly few dealings with dark mages before him.” The old man’s expression grew haunted for a moment before restoring to his usual serene demeanor. “But to answer your question, yes, I had a list of suspects. In fact, I thought I knew who he was at one time, but the turn of events proved me wrong and showed me that the mind can be quite powerful in convincing us to believe many things that aren’t true.”
“I need names.”
“I’m afraid I have none to give at this moment.” Master Binnius turned to Ceryst. “Are you able to oblige the king?”
Ceryst shook his head. “If I knew who the bastard was, I would’ve killed him long ago.”
“So we have nothing to go on other than a medallion bearing his mark. That’s hardly enough to convince the Privy Council to take up arms against him. Until I come of age, I can’t do anything without their blessing.” Aerrin bolted from his chair with such frustration that it crashed backward. “I need evidence.”
Raimel raised his hand. “So the voices in my head won’t be enough to convince them?”
Aerrin tried to picture Raimel in front of the ruling leaders of Elgeus with his long hair and grungy clothing and almost laughed out loud. But then he realized what the man had said. “What voices?”
“That’s how I knew he was back and was going after you.” Raimel grabbed the decanter of sherry and drank straight from the bottle, not bothering with his glass anymore.
Aerrin made a note to get a new decanter. “What exactly did you hear?”
Raimel swiped the back of his mouth with his sleeve. “Him. The son of bitch got into my mind years ago when he was trying to fuck with me. I’d give my right arm to be able to block him now.” He paused, then added, “Well, maybe my left arm. I need my right hand for…things.”
Aerrin didn’t miss the guilty note in Raimel’s voice, as if he’d caught himself from divulging something he probably shouldn’t, further reaffirming that the man had a colorful past. But since Raimel had been the one to personally take on the demon assassin last week, he would have to push past the man’s hesitations and press for what little information he could. “The voice—was it him?”
“You bet your crown it was. I would know his voice anywhere.” Raimel lifted the decanter to his lips, only to pout when he realized it was empty. “Kind of a ballsy move, if you ask me, revealing that he was out to kill you. If it had been me, I would’ve killed first and bragged later.”
“I agree.” Ceryst scratched his beard while he appeared to ponder the string of events. “It makes me question his motives. By revealing his plan, he was setting himself up to fail.”
“Or to prove that we’re nothing more than idiots if he succeeded once again,” Raimel finished.
“Once again?” Aerrin looked back and forth between the two men, noting the sheepish grin on Raimel’s face and the way the knight lowered his eyes in an almost guilty manner. When neither man said anything more, he looked to Master Binnius. “There’s a tale here, I’m sure.”
“Indeed there is, but for another time.” The master mage shifted in his chair. “The past is the past. Rather than dwell on it, it is far better to learn from our mistakes and move forward.”
Aerrin curled his hand into a fist. More riddles. More secrets. More things they were hiding from him. But why?
“And for that reason,” Master Binnius continued, “I suggest we take a moment to plan our next step. He wouldn’t taunt us unless he had a reason.”
“He’s a sick, twisted bastard.” Raimel set the decanter back on the table and rose from his chair. “He doesn’t need a reason to act other than cruelty.”
“Or to instill fear.” The sharpness returned to the old man’s voice, reminding Aerrin that despite Master Binnius’s age, he was still a force to be reckoned with. “Which leads me to believe he is still weak, still trying to regain his lost power.”
“All the more reason to obliterate him now.” Aerrin stood before the master mage. “Why are we wasting time discussing what needs to be done instead of striking him down while we still have a chance?”
“You think that hasn’t crossed my mind?” Ceryst wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his sword. “If I’d caught even a whiff of his trail, I’d be following him now.”
Master Binnius cleared his throat. “What Ceryst is trying to say is that the Raven Bringer didn’t accomplish what he did without first mastering the art of stealth. Considering his skills in the demonic arts, he may not even be in this realm.”
Hundreds of icy needles seemed to pierce Aerrin’s flesh, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “You think he’s hiding in the Shadow Realm?”
Master Binnius gave a solemn nod. “And since neither you nor I have the ability to explore that realm, we must wait for him to appear in our own if we wish to capture him.”
The idea of learning enough demonic magic to enter the Shadow Realm danced through Aerrin’s mind, only to dash out when he realized the consequences of gaining such a skill. In order to enter the realm of demons, a human must first pledge loyalty to the Zelquis, the dark god of demons. No, he wasn’t ready to sacrifice his soul to gain access to the shadows.
“Then let’s focus on what we can do now so we can strike the moment he decides to show his face in my kingdom.”
“Good idea, Your Majesty,” Master Binnius replied, bowing his head a notch. “The first thing I propose is that you return to the Academy with the other students when the new term commences. Your father was a master mage, and you have several years of training ahead of you to reach his level.”
An uncomfortable lump formed in Aerrin’s throat. What Master Binnius left out was that even though his father had been a master mage, King Brendon had still fallen victim to the Raven Bringer. If Aerrin came face to face with the fiend, would he even stand a chance?
But he nodded in agreement. “I will return to the Academy, but I ask that you restructure my lessons to focus on ways to defeat him. I shouldn’t waste my time on silly healing spells when the kingdom would be better served by me learning how to vanquish demons.”
“There’s nothing wrong with learning healing spells,” Raimel interjected before jerking his thumb toward Ceryst. “They’ve come in handy more than once with this reckless bastard.”
“Agreed,” Master Binnius continued, ignoring the scowl on Ceryst’s face. “But I will try to provide some extra tutorials in spells that may prove useful to you, Your Majesty. I’ve also started making arrangements to ensure that you’ll be as safe as possible at the Academy.”
Ceryst’s scowl deepened. “There’s no need for that. I’m still bound by my oath. I will protect him.”
Master Binnius shook his head. “I’m afraid I cannot allow that.”
“Why not?” The two words came out with such feral anger that they almost sounded like a threat.
Aerrin stepped back, this time not wanting to be caught in the power struggle brewing between the two men.
Master Binnius leveled his gaze on the knight. “You are still believed to be the Raven Bringer. I have no desire for you to be executed, not when you are still of use to me.”
“Still of use to you?” Ceryst reached for his sword again while closing the gap between him and the master mage. “What kind of game are you playing?”
Appearing oblivious to the irate knight looming in from of him, Master Binnius took a slow sip of his tea. “A very delicate one. My goal is to not squander any lives to catch the Raven Bringer. Indeed, I’d much rather set up a trap for him and wait for him to fall into it. Until I gather enough information
to stay one step ahead of him, I’m implementing as many measures as I can to ensure the king does not suffer the same fate as his parents.”
“But I’m the Knight Protector.”
“Correction—you were the Knight Protector. Now you’re a fugitive and the subject of nightmarish stories parents tell their children.” Master Binnius set his cup aside and folded his hands across his lap while regarding Ceryst with a quizzical half-smile. “Do you think me so thoughtless as to not consider your safety as well as the king’s?”
The tight line of the knight’s shoulders eased a little, but his hand still remained on the hilt of his sword. “What do you suggest we do, then?”
“What you agreed to do a week ago. Track the Raven Bringer and his followers down. Snuff out any acts of terror he attempts to carry out before he has a chance to feed off the fear and chaos they can unleash. The Academy is my domain, and as such, the safety of the king and all the other students falls on me, and I am wise enough to know I cannot be everywhere all at once. Nor do I wish to burden Aerrin with the constant shadow of a designated bodyguard.” The master mage slid his gaze to Aerrin and winked. “I know how much the king cherishes his freedom while at school.”
For the first time since Aerrin had entered the study, relief replaced some of the frustration building inside him. At the Academy, he’d made it very clear he was to be treated as a regular student. Inside those walls, he didn’t have to bother with politics and protocol. It was as close to being normal as he could get. “I appreciate your consideration.”
“But don’t think I’m taking your safety lightly, Your Majesty. There are several people I trust—all master mages—within the walls of the Academy that know of your plight and have vowed to protect you.”
