The Rise of the Dawnstar

by Farah Oomerbhoy

  Tristan smirked. “Yes, I heard you have a mage suitor. The illustrious prince Rafael Ravenswood no less.” He paused, running his finger over the blade from top to bottom. “This is dwarven-crafted.”

  I nodded. “He had it specially made for me.”

  “In the old days, the dwarves created swords like these for the noble fae families, forged in the magical fires of their mines in Dragonsgate. Those fires were said to be started by dragons, and they still burn until this day. But the dwarves don’t make these anymore. Except on a few rare occasions.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged and gave the sword back to me. “They have distanced themselves from the fae for centuries. The dwarves hardly ever come out of their mountain cities in the Silverspike. I don’t know how he got them to make one for you.”

  I shrugged as we walked to the middle of the field. “What makes this sword so special?”

  “The steel forged in their magical fires is the perfect conduit for our silver-fire,” said Tristan, taking up a fighting stance. “Other blades work too, but eventually they burn out. A dwarven-made sword will never burn up, no matter how hot your silver-fire gets.” He shot a glance at my sword. “You can take an army of Drakaar down with that.”

  I shifted my feet and adjusted my grip. I never knew how precious this sword was. And I was thankful Kalen brought it on the ship for me when we escaped Calos. I came so close to losing it, but I never would again. It would be a constant reminder of everything I had ever taken for granted.

  “A sword like that needs a name,” said Tristan.

  I grinned. “I was thinking the same thing.” And I knew exactly what name I wanted. “I will call it Dawn.”

  “Perfect.” He smiled, and I must say he was even more handsome when he did, which was saying something.

  * * *

  That afternoon I went to see the Dowager Duchess of the Night Court for our lessons.

  “Erik has checked the catacombs and there is nothing there,” she said as we walked through the flowering gardens and over a small marble bridge that spanned a sparkling waterfall. “The werewraiths must have gone back to wherever they came from.”

  “But what if they come back?”

  “The wards have been reinforced under the mountain. Nothing will get through again. But I would like to know what you were doing so far down in the catacombs.” She sat down on her favorite ivy-covered bench in the gardens, overlooking a little pond. A few satyrs were tending the flowers and watering plants as little gnomes wandered about finding weeds, digging them up and eating them. “The books down there are older than me, and most of them are written in the old language of the fae. You wouldn’t be able to read them even if you wanted.”

  “I was looking for information on the Dawnstar,” I said finally. “But I found something else.” I told her about the book I had found, but I didn’t mention the voice that led me to it

  Rhiannon’s eyebrows rose. “Illaria Lightbringer died five thousand years ago,” said the dowager. “I didn’t know there were any books left on the ancients. Where exactly was this book you found?”

  I explained the location.

  “That is very far down in the catacombs, Aurora,” said the dowager, narrowing her sapphire eyes. “I would suggest you don’t go back down there again. Although the wards may have been reinforced, there are things that are best left alone.”

  “Like the door with Illaria’s symbol on it?” I dared to ask.

  “You found a door?” Her eyes narrowed. “What door?”

  I described it and told her my theory about the Dawnstar being hidden behind it.

  “I thought I explained to you that the Dawnstar is only a myth,” said the dowager.

  “But the mastermage told me it is the only thing that can release my mother from the dagger.” I couldn’t let this go. “There has to be some truth to the stories.”

  The dowager shook her head and put her hand on my shoulder. “I know this must be hard for you to accept, Aurora. But the Dawnstar is not behind that door. We will find a way to release Elayna from the dagger. But first we have to get it back. That should be your first priority.”

  “But the door?”

  “Is out of bounds,” said the dowager, ending our conversation. “Do not speak about it to anyone.”

  I nodded, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it and the symbol of Illaria’s house. The dowager said the Dawnstar was not behind the door. However, I knew there was something else down there and I had to find another way to discover what it was.

  18

  Secrets

  From then on I took the dowager’s advice and stayed away from the catacombs. I started waking up before the sun rose, and would run down to the training field to practice my sword moves before the others started.

  Tristan was so impressed with my glamour he increased my training sessions. In addition to creating a sword of silver-fire, he showed me how to create flaming magical arrows, which was great. This way I would never run out of ammunition. He also made me practice creating daggers of silver-fire that I could throw at an enemy. I spent hours every day alternately shooting flaming arrows and daggers at targets he had set up. I practiced until my arms were sore, sometimes not taking a break for hours on end.

  There were times, late at night when I was practicing, I would see Erik, the leader of the Elite, standing at a distance watching me as I trained, but he never approached me or acknowledged me when he passed by.

  One night after a hard training session, as I reached the door to my room, I lost my footing and slipped, thumping my way halfway back down the steep stone steps. I groaned, bruised and battered in places I didn’t want to think about. I gathered my magic and healed myself. Bracing my hand on the wall, I pushed myself up.

  The wall gave way.

  A rough white stone block moved inward, revealing what looked like an age-worn doorknob. I twisted it slightly to see if it moved. It did. And the whole wall groaned as I pushed against it, revealing a dark passage leading into the mountain.

  A secret passage! I called forth my magic and a dense ball of light glowed in my outstretched palm. I walked forward, but didn’t close the door behind me completely. I wanted to see where it would lead. I knew I shouldn’t, but the lure was too much for me to resist. If I couldn’t find my way back, I could just create a portal to my room. That thought gave me courage as I rounded a corner into another dark corridor. It was musty and cobwebs lined the smooth stone walls.

  This passage was old, older than the rest of the castle, and I shivered as I felt a cool breeze coming from the left. I walked toward it when I heard a murmuring of voices, two people having a conversation. There was a light at the end where the passage veered off to the left. A gap in the stone looked out into another part of the palace—I put my eye to the space, peering through.

  It was the throne room. I was high above, looking down on it.

  “I hear my granddaughter has been fighting werewraiths in the catacombs, Rhiannon,” the queen was saying. “I thought the wards deterred anyone from using those tunnels?”

  The dowager was pacing in front of the throne. “I don’t know how she got through them; she shouldn’t have been able to do that. I’ve already had Erik check it out, and I went into the catacombs myself to reinforce the wards.”

  “Yes, I know that.” The fae queen’s tone was sharp. “You should have told me about this immediately. I had to wait for Erik to inform me.”

  “I took care of it, Izadora,” said the dowager.

  My grandmother gave the dowager a long look. “What was she doing down there anyway?”

  I held my breath, and my shoulders tensed. “She’s been looking for the Dawnstar.”

  To my surprise the queen laughed. “That old legend? Where did she dig it up?”

  “A mastermage told her it was the only thing that can release her mother from the Dagger.”

  “It probably could, if it actually existed,” said the queen gravely. �
�Did she find the door?”

  The dowager nodded. “Yes, and she thinks we are hiding the Dawnstar there.”

  “Foolish girl,” said my grandmother. “If we had the Dawnstar we wouldn’t be in this predicament. In five thousand years no one has ever found this supposedly ancient weapon, and no one ever will because it doesn’t exist. Even the Codex can be wrong on occasion.”

  “That is exactly what I told her,” said the dowager. “And it is better she believes that or she will be distracted from her true purpose.” She gave my grandmother a hard look. “But we both know the Codex is never wrong, Izadora.”

  “It may as well be, for all the good it’s done us,” snapped my grandmother. “Has she spoken to anyone else about it?”

  The dowager shook her head. “No, I told her to keep it to herself.”

  “Good. No one else must find that door. Or all our plans will be for nothing.”

  The dowager’s eyes narrowed. “I know that. But we have a bigger problem. Those werewraiths were not down there by accident. Only a powerful spirit-fae could have broken the wards and let the werewraiths into the castle. Someone who knows Aurora goes down to the library practically every night.”

  Izadora gave the dowager a pointed look. “Make sure Tristan stays close to Aurora. Morgana is cunning. I wouldn’t put it past her to find a way into Elfi. We may not have the Dawnstar, but we have something equally as important hidden behind that door. Make sure it’s secure,” the queen said, getting up from her throne. “Tell Erik and the Elite to be on extra alert. I fear we have a traitor in our midst.”

  The dowager nodded and left the throne room.

  I ran back through the secret passage to my room, my heart galloping. Those werewraiths were looking for me! They weren’t down there by accident, as the dowager led me to believe. But at least I finally had some answers about the door under the castle.

  My quest for the legendary weapon of the ancients had come to a dead end. I had been so excited to find the door and so sure the Dawnstar was behind it. But after what I overheard in the throne room, I finally realized I had to stop wasting my time looking for a mythical weapon that didn’t exist and concentrate on getting the dagger back from Morgana. I would have to find another way to free my mother from it. But I did still wonder what else my grandmother and the elders were hiding down there under the mountain.

  * * *

  I stayed away from the library, and didn’t dare go down to the catacombs, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what my grandmother had said; there was a traitor in the castle. Someone had deliberately let those werewraiths loose.

  Could Morgana have someone within the castle working for her? Aiden’s words rang in my head. Would he defy his queen to get to me? Could he be the traitor?

  After that, Tristan didn’t leave my side. Training sessions were more intense and I continued to push myself as far as I could go. Every part of me had become stronger—I could run for hours in the hills and woods that surrounded the valley and still have energy to practice archery or sword moves after I was done. My control over the powers I possessed started to increase day by day, but I pushed myself further and continued to learn all I could before my time ran out. Morgana would not rest until I was dead, and I wasn’t going to make it easy for her. If Aiden did come after me, I would be ready.

  “Why does the council have to choose a new queen every thousand years?” I asked Tristan one evening, walking back through the valley after a particularly hard run. “I always thought the succession was by birthright, until Cade told me the queen chooses an heir, or the Elder Council chooses for her if she is undecided.”

  “Cade is right. In the days of the ancients, our queens did rule by birthright. The royal house of Eos-Eirendil was the most powerful, ruling the fae for thousands of years. Ancient magic ran in their veins, but the last of that power died out with Illaria Lightbringer.”

  “Didn’t she have any children?”

  Tristan shook his head. “No, she was the last of her line,” he said, looking away. “Although there are some people who believe she conceived a child and brought it up in secret.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “Illaria lived most of her life during the Demon Wars. Those were dark and terrible times for the fae. Everyone was afraid of who Dragath would take next.”

  “What happened to the child?”

  “No one knows.” Tristan shook his head. “After Illaria died and Auraken Firedrake founded the seven kingdoms, the fae were left with these lands. For generations the fae elders have searched in secret for the child, but they’ve never found anything.”

  “So then how did my grandmother become queen?”

  “Those of the fae elders who remained founded the Elder Council and chose a queen from the most powerful families left,” Tristan explained. “There was outrage among the fae and Elfi went through years of civil strife, until the council decided to choose a new queen every thousand years depending on the power of her magic, thus balancing the power between the Day and Night Courts.”

  “Has there ever been a fae king?”

  “No. There are only the Grand Dukes who preside over the Day and Night Courts. That still remains a hereditary title, as I explained before.”

  “So after your father, you will become Grand Duke of the Night Court,” I stated. I already knew the answer.

  Tristan nodded once as the centaurs opened the gates to let us enter the city. “And Aiden will be Grand Duke of the Day Court.”

  “Do you think he could be the one who let the werewraiths into the tunnels?”

  “Why would you think that?” Tristan’s tone was sharp. “Aiden would never go against the queen’s wishes.”

  I told him what I had overheard my grandmother and the dowager talking about. But I didn’t tell him where I had heard it. I decided to keep the passage a secret for a while longer.

  “My grandmother did inform me there was a traitor in the castle,” said Tristan finally, “but it can’t be Aiden.”

  “How can you be so sure after everything he said?”

  “I know him. He may hate you, and try to rough you up a bit, but he would never betray his queen.”

  I held my tongue. Tristan obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. His loyalty to his friend was admirable, but I was sure Aiden had something to do with the werewraiths. I would have to be more careful and keep an eye on him. Empty threats or not, something was going on, and I needed to find out what it was before Morgana found another way to get to me.

  Twilight was upon us, and the city lit up as the full moon rose overhead, bathing the valley in its silver gleam.

  Cade ran up to us as we entered the palace. “Izadora has summoned you.” He looked at me. “You have a visitor.”

  I put my hand to my chest. “Me?”

  Cade nodded. “She just got here from Eldoren, apparently.”

  “She?” My heart started galloping. “Who is it?”

  Cade shrugged. “I don’t know. I was sent to bring you to the throne room.” He started walking down the garden path back to the palace. “Come on. You know Izadora will not be pleased to be kept waiting.”

  I waved goodbye to Tristan and ran after Cade. Who would have come all the way to Elfi to see me? And why?

  * * *

  My grandmother was seated on her throne, with robes of silver flowing over an ivory gown. I bowed my head briefly before the queen of the fae, and Cade left.

  “You sent for me?” I said, straightening in front of my grandmother.

  “Indeed I did.” Izadora’s face was a stone mask. She looked to the side, and a figure emerged from the shadows.

  Standing right below the throne was Penelope Plumpleberry.

  She smiled and my mood lifted instantly. She looked exactly the same. It had been so long, and I was so happy to see a familiar face. I moved forward to hug her and almost immediately stopped in my tracks.

  Magic swirled around Penelope as her height increased and her fa
ce changed in front of my eyes. A tall and beautiful fae lady stood in her place. Her golden locks reached her waist and her face was striking, with full lips and a small, slightly upturned nose. Her fae ears became more prominent, elegant and pointed, but her wide almond-shaped eyes were still a beautiful bright blue and sparkled when she looked at me. She was unmistakably High Fae.

  I knew those eyes; they were still the same. “Penelope?” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

  Penelope nodded and opened her arms. I hesitated but only for a moment. Stepping forward, I hugged Kalen’s mother.

  “But how? Why do you look different?”

  “It’s a long story.” Penelope hugged me tightly. She was taller than I was.

  My grandmother cleared her throat. “That is enough hugging for one day. Life in the outside world has made you soft, Penelope.”

  Penelope moved away and smiled at the queen. “When did you become so bitter, Izadora?”

  I was taken aback. I had never heard anyone speak to the queen of the fae like that. But she didn’t seem to mind.

  “You’ve been away for a while, little sister,” said my grandmother. “Things have changed.”

  Sister! Penelope was my grandmother’s sister? Penelope raised an eyebrow. “I can see that.”

  “But what were you doing living in Illiador for so many years?” I was still trying to get over the shock of seeing her like this.

  “She’s Elfi’s most trusted informant.” The fae queen’s lips curved in an amused smile.

  I looked at Penelope, my eyes as wide as saucers. “You’re a spy?”

  My grandmother smiled, enjoying my confusion.

  “For the last fifteen years Penelope has been my eyes and ears in Illiador,” said the queen of the fae. “I sent her there to assess the situation after your mother disappeared. She has been gathering information on Morgana and you all this time.”

  I didn’t know what to say. For a glamour like this to hold for over fifteen years and remain undetectable by the most powerful mages was an extraordinary use of fae power and could only be achieved by one of the most powerful spirit-fae. I always assumed Penelope was a lesser fae, but it turned out she was not who she seemed at all.