Fire and Fantasy: a Limited Edition Collection of Epic and Urban Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  Each accusation had been accompanied by a hard shove so by the time he’d pinned her against the dressing table, Alixa had truly been scared for her life. Her hand behind her back curled around a heavy iron candlestick, the itch to slam it into his head crawling under her skin. He stared at her, distaste evident in his face, before turning without another word and exiting her room. Not until she’d heard his footsteps fade away down the marble hall did she relax and let the weapon fall from her hand.

  “That I can’t answer, milady, but we have very little time. You must listen carefully.” The fear in Ella’s voice only intensified Alixa’s own. “The Duke left early this afternoon. I have no idea when he’ll be back, but Cook has overheard his discussion with the visitor who’s been here these past few days. They want to take you away, milady. I’m not sure where, but I got a feeling it’s not anywhere good.”

  Take her away? To Dreach-Dhoun? No, it can’t be. He was her father. He wouldn’t do this to her…would he?

  “You have to go. Escape.”

  “Escape?” she repeated dully. Then again, but this one more forceful as the idea blossomed in her head. “Yes, escape. But where would I go?”

  “What does it matter?” Ella asked. “But you must leave. I fear you’re in danger here. Listen and listen well. As we speak, Edric is in the loft above with a rope to pull you up off the balcony. From there you will proceed through the servant’s quarters to the lower levels. I will take you to the wine cellar. There’s a hatch to the aqueducts that leads out under the wall to the river. It will get you out and away from any of the guard’s notice. Edric will meet you at the river with a horse.”

  Alixa nodded her head in agreement even though this whole escape plan, this whole thing seemed so surreal. “Why would you and your brother help me? Why put yourself in danger? If you get caught-”

  “We won’t,” Ella assured her with way more confidence than Alixa was feeling. Grabbing the younger girl’s hand, she smiled at her. “And you need not ask why. You have always been more like a sister to me than my mistress. You know that. I would do anything to keep you safe… little sister.”

  Alixa’s eyes filled up once again along with Ella’s, but her maid shook her head. “No time for tears. You must hurry and change. I need the guard to see you still here after I leave. Your escape will be a mystery to all. Now move.”

  Alixa half-ran, half stumbled down the stairwell, one hand trailing along the stone wall to keep her from falling. The tiny flame from the lantern Ella carried their only source of light.

  She breathed a sigh of relief as they hit the bottom of the stairs. They’d made it into the cellars without being caught. Ella didn’t stop there. She ushered Alixa along the corridor and into a storeroom, the lamplight casting shadows over the barrels and crates lining the floor. Alixa was shocked to see so many supplies, especially after her father had forbidden her from handing out scraps at the back entrance to the starving children because he’d said the House of Isenore could barely provide for their own staff. Obviously, another lie, since there were enough supplies here to feed them all for a year. How many of the staff knew about this? Most of them would have no need to visit the cellars, but surely a few were in on it. Some of the people she’d known her entire life were traitors just like her father.

  There wasn’t time to dwell on that. Near the rear of the room, Ella pushed a basket out of the way to reveal an iron handle resting on a wooden hatch in the floor. It took the two of them, using their whole bodies to lift it before it fell against the stone floor with a loud clang. The hole was dark and dank and a putrid odor hit her nose, but it also reeked of freedom.

  “This is as far as I go, milady,” Ella held the lamp high revealing the tears already flowing. “Remember, the aqueducts will take you straight to the river where Edric awaits. From there head into the woods. Ride swift and fast and don’t look back.”

  Alixa nodded before pulling the tiny woman she’d known since she was a child into her arms. “Thank you for everything, Ella. I will miss you, my friend.”

  Ella gave her one more squeeze before pushing her away. “Go now. Be free, little sister.”

  A shout from the corridor startled them both. “Oi, who’s there?”

  “Guards,” Alixa muttered in horror as she froze in fright. Ella was the first to react.

  “Go. I’ll distract them. They won’t follow you.”

  The iron ladder down was rusty and broken in spots and Alixa feared it wouldn’t hold her weight, but she didn’t slow her descent, even as the hatch slammed shut overhead, cloaking her in darkness. She was more afraid of the guards catching her. Ella proved to be true to her promise of holding them off however, and Alixa hit the bottom with a loud splash. She paused to catch her breath as darkness surrounded her with a suffocating pressure and panic clawed at her throat. She blew out a series of short breaths, trying to regain control.

  Having no choice but to keep moving, she turned from the stairs and laid her hand against the slimy wall, taking her first step into the unknown. No turning back now. Dampness saturated her boots and the hem of her dress, the cold seeping into her very bones. She was actually glad for the darkness since she couldn’t see what she kicked about with every step, but the odors had bile rising in the back of her throat.

  Dragging her hand along the damp wall to find her way, the walk seemed to take an eternity. She kept glancing back expecting at any moment a hand to fall on her shoulder. Finally, a sliver of light appeared up ahead. Alixa grinned to herself in the dark. The end of the tunnel. Hurrying now, the sliver grew bigger as the tunnel began to fill up with moonlight. Rushing water reached her ears and she knew it was the river’s waterfall. Breaking into a run, Alixa fell out of the tunnel into the river, up to her knees as the stench of decay was replaced with sweet, fresh air. The water was freezing, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that she was soaked to the bone or that her teeth chattered so loud she could hear them. She was out. Out of the tunnel. Out of the castle. Out of her father’s reach. She was free.

  “Lady Alixa,” the voice called to her from the riverbank as Edric reached toward her to pull her out of the water. She grabbed his hand in thanks, grateful for his help.

  “Ella,” she gasped as soon as she could catch her breath. “There were guards–” She jumped as a burst of wind rustled through the leaves nearby.

  “Don’t worry, Milady, my sister can talk her way out of anything.” Edric shifted his eyes from side to side, the nervous tic belying his assurance.

  All it did was increase Alixa’s dread. Her teeth clamped down on her lip as she rocked from one foot to the other.

  “Your horse awaits in the trees over there.” He pointed with his chin and Alixa spotted the dappled work horse laden down with sacks of precious food. He’d taken care of her, but soon she’d be on her own with no home and nowhere to go.

  “I can’t thank you enough, Edric,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears as a crushing fear constricted her chest. “I will always be indebted.” She patted the small blade hanging at her waist under her cloak, reassuring herself it was still there.

  Edric nodded solemnly. “Stay safe.”

  “I will try, Edric. I will try.”

  A loud trumpet broke the night’s stillness and Alixa’s heart smashed against her ribcage. The alarm! They already knew she was gone.

  “Hurry,” Edric shoved her towards the horse.

  Alixa bundled up her soaked skirts and climbed onto her horse. Without another word, she turned into the trees and dug her heels into the mare’s flanks, making her jolt forward.

  The trumpeting alarm joined with shouting, but the sound of her horse’s pounding hooves soon drowned it out. It was Alixa’s last contact with House Isenore as she galloped into the forest and toward her freedom.

  Eight

  Trystan kicked his heels against his horse as he sped through the woods standing between the palace and the town. He’d needed desperately to get out of the pal
ace and clear his head. Images of Willow flashed through his mind. Her delicate, pale skin. Her soft blonde hair. She was small and fragile and he couldn’t deny her beauty, but she was missing what he’d always imagined in a partner. She’d make a good queen, but he’d hoped for someone who could ride and hunt and help keep the kingdom safe. His hopes were unrealistic though and he knew his father had chosen well for Dreach-Sciene.

  He’d always known he wouldn’t get to choose and she was the daughter of a close ally, so it made sense, but she followed him around like a lost puppy. He didn’t want obedience or adoration in a wife. He wanted partnership. He wanted to be challenged. He didn’t need love, but he wanted a mutual respect.

  Soon, his horse wasn’t the only one thundering down the path. He glanced back and pulled up on the reins with a sigh to allow his uncle to catch up. Geran Drake was a stern man. He was younger than the King and had been raised only as a pawn for the realm to move – much like Rissa with her marriage to Royce Eisner.

  “Nephew,” Lord Drake said when he reached him. “You shouldn’t be out of the palace without your guards.”

  “Just exercising my horse.” Trystan patted his horse’s long neck, eliciting a snort from the beast.

  “There are stable lads for that. I’m sure you have other duties to attend to.”

  He narrowed his eyes in irritation. Since he was a child, his uncle had been trying to assert his authority over him, but that was before he was Toha.

  Trystan turned his horse. “Return to the palace, Lord Drake. That’s an order.”

  A harsh laugh burst out of his uncle. “You don’t give me orders, boy.”

  “Actually, I do. I –”

  A high-pitched scream pierced the woods.

  Trystan kicked his horse around and jerked his head from side to side, scanning the trees for the source of the commotion. His uncle prodded his horse forward and took off in the direction it came from.

  Trystan followed close behind him, terrified at what they were about to find.

  A low moaning filled the woods and they used it to lead them. He almost missed her. She was leaning up against a tree with an arrow stuck in her leg. Weak cries escaped her lips.

  A second arrow whistled by, sticking into the tree right above the woman’s head. Trystan jumped from his saddle and ran towards her as his uncle took off in the direction the arrows were coming from.

  Lord Drake’s disappearance into the trees was soon followed by the unmistakable sound of a sword fight. Trystan didn’t think twice about helping the woman. Lord Drake was one of Dreach-Sciene’s most celebrated swordsmen. He was quite capable of taking care of himself and didn’t need his help. Trystan approached the woman slowly.

  Blood seeped past the arrow, trailing down her leg into the dirt. Her head jerked up and her eyes widened in fear. White-blonde hair that was matted with grime hung around her shoulders. Her face was streaked with mud, but her icy blue eyes shone through.

  He held up his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  The woman whimpered and Trystan crouched down in front of her, examining her leg closely.

  A loud grunt of pain came from nearby and Lord Drake reappeared, still on his horse, re-sheathing his now bloody blade. “Is she alright?”

  “We need to get her to the palace healer.” He turned back to the woman. “My name is Trystan. I’m the Toha of Dreach-Sciene. You’re safe now.”

  Her lips moved, but no sound escaped.

  “What?” Trystan leaned closer.

  “I need to see the King,” she whispered.

  Trystan sprang into action. She’d been attacked while on her way to the palace. He didn’t know the woman’s name. He didn’t know why she’d come. He didn’t know why she’d been attacked. None of it made sense and he was going to get to the bottom of it. The Palace woods should be safe and he took it as a direct attack on the King that anyone would dare do battle in them.

  He glanced once more at the arrow in her leg.

  “Don’t remove it. She could bleed out,” his uncle warned.

  Trystan looked into the woman’s eyes and she gave him a slight nod of permission. He stood and bent to lift her into his arms, careful not to bump the arrow. Blood from her wound soaked into his sleeve. His uncle helped him lift her onto his horse. He climbed on behind her and took off as if it was his own life in danger.

  His uncle stayed behind to find out what he could off the body of the man he’d killed and then take care of him.

  Trystan didn’t slow until he reached the gates. The guards came running when he stopped and jumped from his saddle.

  “What happened, Toha?” one of them asked as he helped Trystan lift the woman down.

  “Trystan.” Davi came running when he saw them. “Is she alive?”

  “She needs the healer.” Trystan hoisted her into his arms and took off in the direction of the healer. In order to get answers, she had to be okay and soon.

  Davi followed and pushed open the door to the healer’s quarters without knocking.

  The palace healer was an older man who’d been there since long before the war. He used to tell Trystan stories of the healing that could be done when magic was present.

  Well, there was no magic now. Only a woman who’d been attacked on their very own land.

  “Toha,” the healer said, jumping up from his seat at a wooden table in the corner. He rushed towards a bed on the other side of the room. “Lay her here.”

  Trystan did as he was told. “She took an arrow to the leg and now she’s lost consciousness.”

  “I can see that. You saved her life by bringing her here.” The healer rummaged through his tools and Trystan knew he was being dismissed. The old man was the only person in the palace who could even dismiss the King. He didn’t like anyone getting in the way of his work.

  Outside the room, Trystan started walking. “I need to see my father.”

  “Trystan,” Davi said, keeping pace with him. “What is going on?”

  “I don’t know, Davi. I don’t know.”

  The King was in the practice yard with a few of his advisors when Trystan found him. They were watching Avery show off her sword-play against a large man.

  “Sire.” Trystan interrupted their conversation. “I must speak with you.”

  The King made apologies to the men around him and joined his son. “What is it?”

  “A woman was attacked in our own forests.”

  His father reeled back in shock.

  “She was on her way here to see you. I don’t know why. She’s with the healer.”

  The King took off and Trystan and Davi followed as close as they could. When the King reached the doorway and looked inside, he stopped. His hands shook at his sides. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again.

  Trystan glanced passed his father to the now conscious woman. Her eyes were glazed, but they sharpened as soon as she caught sight of the King.

  “Sire,” the healer said. “I’ve just finished sewing her up. She needs to rest.”

  The King didn’t budge. He breathed out heavily. “Lorelai?”

  Davi sucked in a breath. The prince looked curiously at his friend, realizing now was not the time for questions.

  “My King,” Lorelai wheezed, clenching her teeth against the pain. “It’s good to see you once again.”

  The King moved further into the room. He clenched his fists at his sides and stiffened his shoulders. Trystan couldn’t remember seeing his father at such a loss before.

  “You disappeared,” he said. “I tried to find you again.”

  “It became too perilous for my kind.”

  “Seems it still is.” He gestured to her leg.

  A wry smile formed on her lips. “I knew what showing myself would mean. I had to come.”

  “Why?”

  She released a sigh and her body sagged, seemingly exhausted by his questions. The old healer intervened before she could answer.

  “She’ll still be h
ere tomorrow, Sire. I really must insist she rest.”

  Her eyes had already begun to drift shut and they reluctantly left her to her sleep. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon as they stood, waiting for the King to speak.

  He finally did, but it was not to them. He caught the eye of a maid nearby. “Inform the kitchens I will be dining with the Toha, the Princess, and Davion in the Princess’s quarters.” The maid scurried away to do as she was told and the King turned back to the two young men in front of him.

  “Rissa is in her rooms. She must hear this as well.”

  Rissa was preparing to go to the hall for dinner when they showed up at her door. The King closed the door behind them, cutting them off from the servants bustling outside.

  Trystan looked into his father’s serious face, feeling an impending importance in the words he was about to say. Excitement pulsed through him.

  “Sit,” the King ordered. “All of you. We have much to discuss.”

  Rissa listened to her father with an open mind. She saw the skepticism on the faces of Trystan and Davi but refused to believe her father a maker of tales.

  It had always been easier for her to wrap her mind around the existence of magic because she felt it, or at least felt it used to be there.

  So when her father told them they had a seer in their palace, it was no great leap for her. They’d been hearing of seers their entire lives, knowing them to be real. But there was a great difference between knowing something and truly believing in it.

  Theirs was the only magic that persisted in Dreach-Sciene because it wasn’t earth magic – a fact none of them had truly known until the earth no longer held power, but the seers continued to see.

  “Wait a moment,” Trystan said. “A noble man will rise to defeat the darkness?”

  “That’s what she told me, yes,” the King responded.

  “And you believe it means me?”

  “I did, yes.”

  “And now? Because I made a request to go, to try to fix what was broken.”