The Rising King

by Shea Berkley

  She starts crying again. Typical.

  She suddenly chucks the phone at the wall and it bounces unharmed to the floor. “I don’t have it.”

  Wow, I really haven’t missed these mood swings of hers. “Have what?” I ask out of habit.

  She crawls off the bed and throws open her suitcase. “See?” She tosses outfit after outfit onto the floor. “Do you see anything of value? It’s not here. Tell him it’s not here.”

  “Tell who what isn’t here?”

  “Don’t do this to me, Dylan.” She sinks to her knees and pulls her clothes into her arms. “You still blame me for leaving, don’t you?”

  “It’s hard to blame someone you never think about.”

  Mom wraps her arms around her waist and says through her tears, “You’ve gotten so big.”

  Seeing as how I’ve been passing myself off as a twenty-one-year-old since I was sixteen, I don’t follow. “Are you calling me fat?”

  Maybe this is one of those dreams that messes with your insecurities? I pull up my shirt and slap my abs. Nope, I’m still rock solid. I let the fabric fall, step away, and run a hand over the dusty TV set. “Why do you always end up in dumps like this?”

  “I just meant you look more like a man.”

  That sounded suspiciously like a compliment. This really was a dream. “It happens when moms dump their kids with strangers and leave. We tend to grow up fast, or did you expect me to die? I almost did, you know. Some dude named Navar came really close to killing me.” I pull up my shirt again and point to the scar. “Death by arrow. Did you know Dylan hunting was all the rage in Teag?” I pull up my sleeve, revealing the shimmering silver brand thanks to Sardon the Torturer. “They even gave me this cool mark of death just before they planned on killing me.”

  No gasp of surprise or moans of concern. She just pushes her hair out of her eyes and stares blankly at me. “As long as you’re a threat, you’ll never be safe.”

  I have no idea what she’s ranting about. Navar is dead. I haven’t had a crazy dream like this since the one I got from Jason, just before he went radioactive on everyone. Still, that dream had a disturbing edge of truth to it. This one is just messed up. Like Mom. I cross to the window and glance outside and see a profusion of neon flashing in the dark, willing, praying for this dream to end soon.

  I can see her reflection. Clothes fly in the general direction of her suitcase as she gets to her feet and races around the beds toward me. A sharp tug from her oddly strong grip, and I’m pulled out of her way. Her perfume engulfs me, clean and crisp, reminding me of times I’d like to forget, like needing to be loved, but knowing I never would. Why does she hate me so much? I take a step back as she yanks the curtains closed and turns desperate eyes on me. “Don’t tell him where I am. Please.”

  How can I when I don’t know who “he” is? She stands there, quivering. I’ve never seen her this scared. I should give her a hug, but it’s Mom. She never lets me hug her. A tear slips down her face. She used to be the prettiest woman I knew. She still could be if she’d stop crying and get her act together.

  She goes back to the bed, picks up her cell phone, and lies down. “Don’t tell him,” she repeats.

  It’s not long before the sobs return, and I hear the click of her texting.

  I slouch back onto the other bed, my knees hovering higher than my hips as I sink into the mattress. There’s only one thing I can do. Wait. This delusion-inspired, unexpected visit with Mom has got to end eventually.

  But the minutes drag on and on. I’ll go crazy if I can’t leave here soon. I turn to Mom. “Is it just me, or is this the dumbest dream ever? I kinda want to leave. How long have you been asleep?”

  She pauses in her text. “I’m not.” She turns and gives me a very sane expression. “It’s hard to sleep when you’re scared of the dark.”

  My heart thuds heavily behind my ribs. I wasn’t expecting that answer.

  Part One

  Sometimes, the people you trust

  Don’t trust you.

  Rock. Paper. Fire.

  I come out of my forced sleep feeling an avalanche of aches and pains. Millispit venom is highly potent and usually lethal if not dealt with immediately. That I’m alive and only a little worse for wear is a relief. That I remember every little detail of my dream is disturbing. It had to be a dream. If not, there is only one outcome when Mom is involved, and that means I’ll be seeing her soon. She’s trouble I don’t need at the moment.

  The high-pitched squawk of a miniature peacock no bigger than my hand sounds from the gilded cage in the corner of my room. It’s a useless show of magic, much like the bulk of the Ruined City, which Jason created to show off his newly acquired magical skills. The city’s layout is a confusing labyrinth of streets and hiding places Jason conjured up from the pages of a video game gone viral, as in there are books and Hollywood movies and offshoot games with their share of books and movies, and even a theme park dedicated to its fans and thrill junkies. Other than that, the place has a cool vibe. Ornately carved stonework is in nearly every corner, alleyway, and boulevard. The Ruined City is unexpectedly beautiful, and not at all representative of its name.

  The sound of a page turning draws my eye to Kera sitting by my bed. It’s hard to look away. She’s that beautiful, inside and out, and it sickens me to think my stupidity made her the one who had to kill Jason.

  Somehow, after he’d died the first time, I resurrected from the dead only the angry, vindictive part of Jason. Kera called him a zombie, a soulless shell. The best part of him, the part I called my friend, had stayed dead.

  He’d gone over the edge in a way that touched everyone he knew. He’d murdered his own father—the most disturbing part of his planned vengeance. He’d shown everyone he was more than who they thought he was, but in a way that managed to reinforce the idea he was his father’s son, an unforgiving, nasty bully. The only way to stop him had been to kill him…again. I still question that decision. I think I always will.

  I slant a quick gaze toward Kera’s tense features. I haven’t asked her how she killed Jason. I hope she’ll eventually tell me and release some of the darkness swirling in her soul. We’re so closely connected, I can feel the magic dragging her down, even though she won’t admit it, but since I never told anyone about the darkness living in me, I’m not the one to push the matter. So I watch and wait and stay close in case she needs me.

  Yet knowing what I know about myself, the uncontrollable power surging just under my skin, it’s been difficult fighting the constant battle to do what’s right instead of what’s easiest. I know she’s experiencing the same thing. I can sense her desire to tap into the darkness that’s in her, and it scares me.

  It should’ve been me. I should’ve taken on my father’s powers. I should’ve ended Jason’s life. He was my problem, but in the end, it had fallen to Kera, the girl from my dreams who became real. She’s the girl I love, and everything I do is about making her happy…and Teag makes her happy. That’s why we’re still here. All I’ve ever wanted is for us to be together. I’ll do anything to keep her safe. Anything.

  Her left hand, delicate and pale, rests against the covers. I ease my hand into hers and lace our fingers together, bringing her deep-violet eyes to focus on me. They sweep over my face and the edges of her full lips curve upward as if she’s fighting a smile. She sets aside the book and leans close, bringing the scent of summer with her. “You scared me to death.”

  I love it when she worries about me. When it comes to my life, someone caring enough to worry is sort of a new thing. “You do that all the time to me.” I tug her hand and bring her closer so I can snag a quick kiss. Her lips are soft under mine, and she tastes like honey and wildness, an addictive combination. Our kiss is anything but quick.

  Kera pushes away, but I don’t let go. The look she throws me is serious. “I’m not kidding, Dylan. You have to be more wary, especially when it comes to creatures like the millispits. What if I wasn’t there to he
al you?”

  “I didn’t die.” It’s a reminder that’s kind of obvious.

  “Because I saved you.”

  “What’s that make? Two for me and one for you?”

  She leans back, testing the limits of our reach, and narrows her eyes. “Are you keeping score?”

  “No”—I hate getting caught like that, and slowly tug her closer—“it just sounds like I am, but I’m not.”

  I pull her right off her chair and on top of me. I bury my face in her hair and breathe deeply. No one smells as good as Kera. “We got all the millispits, right?”

  “Of course, just like we have every other time.”

  “Who did you leave to help my grandparents?”

  “Scoran. He knows all about the creatures that inhabit Teag, though your grandfather is doing an excellent job handling the threats that manage to evade our patrols and cross the barrier. Thank goodness it doesn’t happen that often.”

  “Uh-huh.” I place little kisses along her jaw and ask, “Was anyone else hurt?”

  She stretches her neck back for me. “Leo received a splinter.”

  “Mmmm.” I enjoy the feel of her skin against my lips. “Will he live?”

  “To see Lucinda hover over him after we got back, you would not think so. She very clearly said we were not allowed to take him anywhere without her.”

  When did Kera start caring about that cat/girl’s demands? I twist and flip her onto her back. My elbows dig into the mattress as I balance over her. As seriously as I can, I say, “Lucinda’s crazy. You know that, right?”

  “I am aware of a few peculiarities that make up her personality.” She brushes my hair back and twirls a piece over my ear. “With that said, she does seem to honestly care for Leo.”

  “Like an owner does a pet. But for how long?” I ask, more to myself than to her.

  “As long as it pleases her to do so, I imagine.”

  I’m not in the mood to dwell on Lucinda and what her agenda might be. All I want is to hold Kera, to feel her soft curves against me. I nibble just below her ear and she giggles. I love the sound of her laughter. It’s torture to be so close and wanting to be closer. I stop and place my forehead to hers. “And how long will you care for me?”

  “My heart would be crushed if I were to never see you again. I would die a thousand deaths every day.”

  Were those actual tears in her eyes? “My heart is crushed every time I see you and I can’t kiss you.” I have never said a sappier statement, or a truer one.

  She places a sweet kiss on my lips. “That rarely happens.”

  I kiss her back, and say against her lips, “Because you crave my kisses.”

  She laughs and pushes free. Rolling to her feet, she says with a smile, “Because I like to kiss.”

  “Me,” I say, popping up on my elbows. “You like to kiss me.”

  Her smile widens.

  I snatch her hand. She’s adopted wearing a wide, tight leather bracelet on her right wrist. It’s etched and embossed with a swirling pattern that is so Kera. We do a quick, playful game of tug-of-war before I yank her back. “Tell me you love me.”

  She winds her arms around my neck and smothers my face with tiny kisses. “I love you madly.”

  It’s all I need to hear. I slip my lips over hers and press her so close there isn’t room for even the barest whisper to slip through. My heart is hammering wildly, and so is hers, but something isn’t right. I pull away. “What’s wrong?”

  She looks away and plucks at a feather that has landed on my bare shoulder.

  “Kera? What’s wrong?”

  “I am being selfish, hiding here with you.”

  “Whatever’s outside this room can’t be more important than me.”

  The look she gives from beneath her eyelashes instantly sobers me. “There is an enemy army outside the city gates.”

  I set her down beside me, sit up, and really look at her. How did I not notice her clothing, all dark and leathery and lethal-looking? She looks ready to sneak into the enemy camp and take its leader prisoner. She’d do it if given the go-ahead. And without me if I didn’t hang on to her tight enough.

  I spy a set of clothes especially made for me to wear in Teag that are hanging off the back of a chair, and I throw them on. The style is vintage Victorian, the way everything in Teag is slightly Victorian but with a slant of magic to keep things interesting. After buttoning my pants, I see the tips of my shoes poking out from under the bed. I scoop them up and yank them on. Standing, I look around for my jacket. It’s a no-frills version of the flamboyant style my dad picked for his soldiers. I refused the shiny, look-at-me hardware and settled for dark gray soft-as-butter leather with antique brushed-silver buttons. “How long have they been out there?”

  “A little over three hours.”

  I grow still and stare at her in disbelief. Why didn’t she tell me sooner? “Teag’s under attack and you just let me sleep?”

  “They haven’t attacked yet, and you needed rest.”

  “But I’m the heir to Teag’s throne. Doesn’t that mean something?”

  “Of course it does.”

  I have no doubt Kera is the only one to think so. It’s obvious no one else wants me here. My position is clear. The bulk of my dad’s magic won’t be given to him until he can be trusted not to go psycho on a Norman Bates level, which means as the heir to Teag, I’m supposed to have final say on everything. Clearly I don’t. Even though the council didn’t like the idea of me being co-regent, my father insisted and not because he’d suddenly gone all proud-daddy on me. He insisted because he wants to keep the power in the family. Allowing someone else in the position would be asking for a coup while he’s powerless.

  All that I understand. What I don’t get is Kera. Lately she could teach Lucinda a thing or two about being overprotective.

  Kera rakes her teeth against her lower lip. “You’re not happy with me.”

  I have no doubt my face reflects my irritation. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now I need to know what’s going on. Why aren’t they attacking?”

  “Wyatt believes they are afraid of the Ruined City, at how sections can collapse almost instantly. They risk losing too many men if that happens.”

  Wyatt’s instincts are good, and he’d been instrumental in defeating Jason. It’s why Kera’s dad and even mine allowed Wyatt—a stranger from the human realm—to lead Teag’s army after so many of its leaders were killed.

  Bringing Wyatt into Teag had been a last-minute decision, one I’m glad I made. It takes me and that crazy human to curtail my dad’s love for spectacle, which hasn’t been easy. After Jason’s death, my dad had the council magically rebuild portions of the city in ways that seem over the top, especially the coliseum. Its Roman design with frescoes of death and magical mayhem have raised quite a few eyebrows. When questioned, good ol’ Dad said it was built for games and “other pursuits.” Nothing more.

  It’s those “other pursuits” that’s got more than me a little worried. It’s no secret my dad is power-hungry. He’s gotten to where he is by being a tyrant, and though he’s trying to change, it hasn’t been easy.

  “There’s more,” she warns. “The council has interfered again, leaving us unprepared to deal with an attack. Wyatt is furious.”

  I sling my sword across my back. “Why am I not surprised?” I take Kera’s hand and pull her through the door and into a long hall, down a flight of stairs, and through several rooms until we enter a massive room that’s buzzing with activity.

  Signe, Kera’s best friend, spots us immediately. She darts through the crowd, her red curls bouncing around her face and her full skirts floating around her legs, until she reaches Kera. “Where have you been? We’ve had an influx of refugees who’ve been attacked by Dark Souls and could use your healing talent.” Her gaze flashes to me and she leans near Kera and whispers, “Is he okay?”

  “I’m not sure,” Kera whispers back. “He looks all right, but who can really say?
He’s been through a lot.”

  “Humans are so fragile.” They both toss me a quick, pitying glance and shake their heads.

  “I can hear you, you know. And I’m not all human. I’m fine.”

  Kera pats my arm like I’m completely deluding myself. “Of course you are.”

  I sigh and push a strand of dark hair out of her eyes and draw my fingers down the side of her neck. She has the softest skin…

  I’m perfectly willing to show her exactly how fine I am. I lean close and whisper in her ear, “I wish we could go back to the room. To that bed…” The thud of my heart grows stronger. I pull her closer.

  “Dylan?” she asks, her voice sweet and breathy.

  “I’m more than fine.” I kiss her, pulling her deeper into my thoughts, and she sighs, kissing me back until I’m the one who pulls away. Her eyes are closed and the tip of her tongue darts across her full lips, holding on to the taste of me, just like I’ve done with her so many times before. “You’re just as human as I am, you know.”

  She slowly opens her eyes and her mouth tilts into a mischievous smile. “But you have had more practice at it.”

  Signe clears her throat. “Kera, they really need you at the coliseum.” She grabs Kera’s hand and gently tugs.

  “I have to go.” I can tell she doesn’t want to, but she isn’t like other girls. Her whole life has been about putting others before herself. Even me. She’s hanging close because she really is worried.

  It’s then I see purple shadows beneath her eyes. How long has she been awake, watching me? Caring for me? Worrying about me? I gently rub my thumb beneath her right eye, willing the color to lighten. It doesn’t. I kiss her forehead. “Go. I’m fine.” She hesitates and I give her a little push toward the door. “Really.”

  Signe tugs again and Kera begins to back away, saying, “Wyatt and the others are waiting for you. If you need me, just call.”

  Nearby I see the stunted, impossibly pale figure of Bodog. His stubby legs shift uncomfortably in a room filled with so many firsts. His large hands, used for digging his tunnels, white-knuckle the walking stick he carries as if he expects to use it to defend himself any moment. I catch his eye and nod after Kera. He nods back and trails her as she leaves.