Rigel rubs my shoulders. “Are you listening?”
I turn toward him and nod. “What if the room is locked?”
He slips a key from his pocket and places it in my hand. He smirks when he sees my shocked expression. “We didn’t give up everything when your grandfather defeated us.”
I accept the key and slip it into my bodice. Rigel raises an eyebrow, and I flush. I’m not sure where else he thinks I could keep it.
“This is most important; you must not leave until you are positive he is asleep,” Rigel says.
“All right.”
There’s a knock on the door, and Dryal enters. “The king has begun his speech.”
My guardian knight knows nothing of our plans, but, again, he’s allowed Rigel to meet with me. Still, for now, I feel it’s safer to keep him in the dark—for us and for him.
“Thank you, Dryal,” I say, dismissing him.
He bows his head and shuts the door.
“Be careful.” Rigel pulls me close. “Do not do anything foolish.”
“You’ll take care of the guards?” I ask again.
It’s the only part of the plan that makes me truly nervous. Father will be asleep when I leave, but if his guards are outside his door, I won’t have a chance.
“I swear it.”
I kiss him softly before I step out the door, nodding to Dryal as I pass. In a few moments, Rigel will leave, heading the other way. It will be bad if he’s caught near my chambers, but it would be worse if we were seen together.
I’m nervous. Every little sound makes me jump. I turn the corner that leads to my Father’s hall. To my relief, there’s no one outside his door. His guards are all with him in the great hall. I’m sure at this moment, with the villagers livid and terrified, he needs all the protection he can summon.
I’ve never opened the door to Father’s chambers, and it feels very wrong. Just as I had feared, the lock is set. I glance down the empty hall and slip the key from my bodice. I almost expect to hear a sharp word of surprise when I enter, but the chambers are empty. Still not wanting to linger, I quickly push back the tapestry.
There is a door, just as Rigel said there would be. It’s not locked, and I slip through. My hand brushes over the wood, and I frown. There isn’t a lock on this side, either.
The room is cold, and it smells dusty from disuse—enough so, I’m not sure Father knows it’s here. I rub my hands over my arms and scan the space, looking for somewhere to sit. It’s as dark as night. Do I dare go back into Father’s chambers for a candle?
I don’t see how I have a choice.
Though I wait for a moment, there’s only silence on the other side of the wall. I slip back through the entry. A candle sits on a table in the corner. It’s only burned halfway and there is a layer of dust on its surface. I don’t think it will be missed. After snatching it up, I search for a tinderbox. I shuffle through papers and trinkets on the desk, growing agitated. This is taking too long. Father’s speech will be short. He doesn’t actually care about the villagers; he simply wants to appease them for the time being.
I finally find what I’m looking for on a table under the window. Striking the flint, I ignite the tinder and light the wick. I’m just slipping back into the hidden room when footsteps echo outside the chambers. With my heart racing, I nudge the door shut.
The outside chamber opens. Through the wall, I can hear voices.
“Why wasn’t this locked?” Father demands one of the guards.
I bite my lip, cursing myself for forgetting to lock the outer door behind me.
“It was, Your Majesty. I swear.”
He and Father exchange a few more terse words, but then there is only Rovert and Father discussing the meeting.
Safe for the moment, I glance around my temporary prison. I cringe away from a cobweb that hangs near my head. There’s no escaping them. They’re everywhere. In the corner, a fat spider watches me. I shiver and jerk away.
The dust lies thick on the floor, discoloring what once might have been a red rug. The room is sparse, but there is a table and a single chair.
Zander enters the outside chambers and announces the wizard has been delayed. I fight back a groan.
“When will he be here?” Father demands.
“Tonight…but late,” Zander answers. “Should we postpone the meeting until the morning?”
I shake my head as I eye the spider in the corner. I’m sure it has friends.
“No. I want to see him the moment he walks through the doors. Tell my lords to be ready to greet him as soon as he arrives, even if it’s the middle of the night.”
Somewhat relieved, I attempt to sweep the dust off the chair with my hand. It clings to my palm. Gritting my teeth, I wipe the filth off on my skirts.
“Do you smell smoke?” Zander asks suddenly.
I suck in a quiet breath. The smell must have lingered from the tinder. I glare at the candle. It flickers merrily on the table.
“No.” Father sounds too distracted to care.
The afternoon crawls slowly along. I must keep still so they don’t hear me—not that there is anything to pass the time anyway. I scan the room and keep watch for eight-legged visitors. The spider in the corner slinks across its web.
My neck prickles. I can feel imaginary insects on me. Under my skirts, my skin crawls as well. I cross my ankles and try not to think of it.
Eventually, my eyelids begin to droop, and I lay my head on my arm. Father speaks little to Zander or Rovert. There isn’t much to keep my attention. The two men come and go through the day, and servants enter every once in a while. Finally, I drift off, unable to stay awake any longer.
I wake to a voice I don’t recognize. I jerk upright, disturbing the dust on the table. It tickles my nose, but I hold my breath, willing the sensation to subside.
“I traveled a week and a half. What is so important it couldn’t wait until morning?”
The voice is dark, unfamiliar, and it carries a strange accent.
Father explains the situation to the wizard, finishing with the new information about the feral dragons and their magic.
The man is silent for a moment. “And what do you want from me?”
“Power,” Father says without hesitation. “I want the magic necessary to take out the colony.”
“It won’t come cheap.”
“I’m willing to pay whatever it takes.”
The tickling sensation returns quite suddenly, and I sneeze. I hold most of it in, so the sound is quiet, but to my ears it sounds like a landslide.
I wait, frozen in place. My shoulders sag in relief when Father speaks again, offering treasures.
“I don’t want gold,” the wizard says. “I want life.”
My skin prickles, but this time it’s not from imaginary spiders.
“Explain.”
“This magic will cost you, Your Majesty. You are speaking of excessive amounts of power.”
I shake my head, silently begging Father to refuse him.
“What exactly is it you want?” Father demands.
“I want five years of your daughter’s life.”
Chapter Seventeen
I grab the table to steady myself.
To my shock, Father doesn’t hesitate. “Absolutely not.”
“She won’t miss it. She’ll simply pass five years earlier than she would naturally. What’s five years to an old woman?”
I wait for Father’s answer, disturbed to my core.
“No.” Father’s voice is stony. “I will not barter my daughter.”
I finally let out my held breath, relieved and surprised he didn’t accept the terms.
Then Father says, “Take some of my life, not hers.”
I jerk my head toward the voices even though I can’t see the men. What is he thinking? Is he a complete fool—or does he believe his precious sculpture will counteract the terms? I have no doubt that one dark magic will not cancel out another.
“Ten years,” th
e wizard answers.
I gasp at the words. Ten years? With the heart trouble Father’s having, he could die as soon as the agreement is made.
“I accept.”
The decision is finalized, and a terrible chill rushes through the little room. I can’t imagine the temperature in Father’s chambers. A shriek rises with the unnatural cold, its bellow certainly not of this earth. I clutch my head in my hands, trying to block out the sound.
I can just hear Father yell out over the noise. Zander hollers as well, and then there’s a crash. I clench my eyes tight, glad I’m not in the room with them. Black clouds block my vision, and I fall against the table.
***
I peek my eyes open. I think I fainted. The candle has gone out, and the room is cloaked in darkness. The stillness is suffocating. Panic rises in my throat, just as it did in the mine, but this time Rigel isn’t here to calm me.
The quiet is eerie. No one speaks from Father’s chambers.
What’s happened?
Something crawls over my knee under my skirts—something small. I jump from the chair, slapping at my leg. I silently flail, and now it feels as if they’re all over me.
I can’t stay in here any longer.
There’s been no sound from the room for who knows how long. What if the pact killed Father? And where is Zander and Rovert?
With my skin prickling, I rush for the small door and blindly feel for the handle. In my search, I walk into a stringy something. The web sticks to my face, covering my eyes and plastering itself to my skin.
I scream.
It’s only a short burst, half a heartbeat or less, but it was loud. I swat the web away with my hands.
Still, there’s no sound from the room.
My fingertips brush against the door. Finally, I find the handle, and I push the door slowly. Even if they’re in the room, at first I’ll be hidden in the entry.
It doesn’t matter, anyway. No one is alerted to my presence.
I crane my neck around the door and shut it behind me. Cautiously, I peer into Father’s chambers. The room is dim; the only light comes from the dying fire in the hearth. Perhaps it’s later than I thought and Father’s already gone to bed.
I’m about to leave, hoping Rigel has taken care of the guards, when I see Father’s prone form on the chamber floor by his desk.
“No,” I breathe, and without thought, I rush to him.
I kneel next to him, ignoring Zander and Rovert, who have fallen not far from him. I hesitate, and my hand hovers over Father’s throat. After several heartbeats, I press my fingers to his neck. There is a pulse—it’s weak—but it’s there.
He stirs, and I glance at the door. Should I leave before he wakes? What if he’s too ill to rise? Finally, I make a decision I know I may regret.
“Father?”
He cringes and then opens his eyes. Disoriented, he looks around the room and then at me. “Seirsha? What’s happened?”
“I…I don’t know.”
He sits up, clutching his head in his hands as if he’s in pain. I gasp and stumble back when his face is no longer hidden in shadows. Deep lines edge his eyes, and his hair is mostly gray.
“What have you done?” I whisper.
Father narrows his eyes at me, ready to question my presence, but then he’s distracted by his hand. The skin is thin and a little wrinkled.
He moves his fingers, bending them at the knuckles. “He said it would take it off the end of my life, not the middle.”
I look away. “Who did? What’s happened to you?”
His sharp eyes look at me, really seeing me for the first time since he woke up. “What are you doing here?”
“I…I felt something was wrong. I came to check on you.” The words sound pathetic in my own ears, but there is truth to them.
He looks as if he’s going to question me more, but then his face softens. “You should be asleep. What time is it?”
“I don’t know.”
Father struggles to rise, and I wrap my arm around him, trying to give him support. He bats my hand away.
“Stop being so stubborn,” I snap at him. “Do you want to spend the rest of the night on the floor?”
He raises an eyebrow, indignant, but then relents. With my help, he’s able to pull himself to his feet.
“Go to bed.” He waves me away. Almost to his bedchamber door, he turns back. “The guards let you in?”
“I don’t know where they are.”
I immediately regret the words after I say them. His face twists in anger, and I fear I may have sent the men to their deaths.
Father strides across the chamber. He doesn’t move as quickly as he would have this morning, but there’s still power in his steps. I follow him. As we enter the entry, I realize the tapestry is not fully pulled back. The door is partially visible. I suck in a breath, hoping he won’t notice.
He walks past it, too consumed with his thoughts to pay it any mind. Behind him, I bite my lip and tug the fabric. Just as it slips in place, Father hollers, irate.
The guards are slouched over, seemingly asleep. They stir at Father’s outburst, realizing they are on the floor in the presence of the king. They groggily jump to their feet.
“Were they like this when you came through?” Father demands.
I open my mouth, unsure how to answer. “I was worried…I’m not sure I would have noticed.” I scrunch my nose. “Probably?”
He turns his attention back to them, but then a solution rushes to me. “They were unconscious as you were. What’s happened?”
Father’s forehead creases. The guards watch our exchange with nervous eyes. Hopefully Father won’t notice that they look half-drugged.
Father glances down the hall, looking wary. His attention moves to one of the guards. “Walk Seirsha to her chambers and then return immediately.” He turns to me. “Where is Dryal?”
Good question.
“I’m here, Your Majesty,” Dryal says from the recess across from us.
I jump. I didn’t see him standing there—not that I was looking.
Father is as startled as I am, but he composes himself. “Good.” His voice is stern from the shock. “You will escort the princess back. And do not let her wander the halls at night again, do you understand?”
Dryal dips his head in acknowledgment.
Without bidding me goodnight, Father shuts the chamber doors. Relief washes over me so quickly, I think I might be ill.
Dryal nods down the hall. “Time to go back, Princess.”
I nod and lead the way.
“Where is Rigel?” I whisper, not looking back. We turn the corner, and I almost run into a dark figure.
Rigel grasps my shoulders, steadying me. “Right here.”
I laugh low, startled to see him and giddy we didn’t get caught. The elation leaves me as I remember the horror that took place in Father’s chambers.
Rigel doesn’t take his eyes off of me. “Dryal, we will meet you back in Seirsha’s chambers.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
I wait for Dryal to turn down another passage before I let myself step into Rigel’s arms.
He runs his eyes over me as if checking to see if I am in one piece. “Are you all right?”
“I was almost eaten alive by spiders.”
He raises an eyebrow. I try to smile, but then I shudder.
His hands are in my hair. The sensation is soothing, and I now realize how tired I am. I lean against him and rest my cheek on his shoulder.
“What has he traded away?” Rigel asks.
“Ten years of his life.”
Rigel stiffens. “Ten years?”
I nod. “The wizard wanted five years of mine.” My eyes burn, remembering. “He refused.”
Rigel’s hands drop from my hair, and he wraps his arms around my waist, holding me tight. I know we shouldn’t stay here in the hall like this. We’re bound to be caught.
“I am sorry,” he says. “But I am glad it was his life
and not yours.”
I murmur my agreement.
“It’s very late.”
I step away, but before we continue down the hall, I stop him. “Are you sure it was wise to trust Dryal?”
“No, but sometimes we have no choice. He didn’t have to take you to see Bea. He didn’t have to let us see each other.”
My heart hurts when he says Bea’s name, and I only nod.
“Enough for tonight,” Rigel says, squeezing my hand. “We’ll discuss more in the morning.”
“If we even see each other in the morning.”
“I’ll find a way.”
***
I’m not surprised to see Argus outside my door, but Dryal doesn’t seem impressed with his presence.
“Father wants me to join him for the morning meal in his quarters?” I ask.
Instead of the usual smug look he wears when I am in trouble, Argus looks bored. “That’s what I said.”
“Wait here.” I shut the door on him.
I drum my fingers against my robes, dreading the visit. With little enthusiasm, I change into a gown and brush my hair. After I tuck my ring in my bodice, I step into the hall. Argus is gone.
“Ready?” Dryal asks.
I nod.
“You had best tell me your story in case I’m questioned,” Dryal says.
We speak quietly as we walk, and by the time we reach Father’s quarters, Dryal has been informed of everything he should need to know. Father’s guards are conspicuously missing, and their absence immediately sets me on edge. What has he done with them?
Dryal leans against the opposite wall, crossing his arms. “I’ll wait for you here.”
I set my hand on his arm. “Thank you—”
The doors open, and Zander stands on the other side. “Oh, Seirsha, you’re here.”
I look past him and see Father’s eyes narrowed at me and Dryal. I pull my hand back, but Father already wears a smug smile. The look irritates me. I step away from my guard and enter the chambers.
Breakfast has been set at the table by the window, and Father motions me to sit. I’ve never been invited to join him. Is this a new form of interrogation?
“I am glad to see you are getting on well with your new guard.”
I grit my teeth, wanting to correct him—wanting to tell him it’s still Rigel I love—but I think better of it. Let Father believe what he will. It’s safer this way.
The Eldentimber Series: Books 1 - 3 Page 64
