The Surah Stormsong Trilogy

by H. D. Gordon

  ~BOOK THREE~

  H. D. GORDON

  Copyright © 2015 H. D. GORDON BOOKS

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

  For my family. I love you to the moon and back.

  CHAPTER 1

  SURAH

  Chaos ran unchecked through the streets. Stacks of black smoke rose into the air, the flames from which they birthed burning through the buildings below them. Alarms were sounding, many having been set off when the surge of Magic returned to their world. The cries of mothers, children, and men alike could be heard even from where Surah Stormsong sat looking down at the madness below, high upon the balcony of her father’s castle.

  Her castle. It was no longer her father’s castle. It was her castle now. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to that.

  And, really, if things continued in the trend they seemed to have adopted, she might not have to get used to it. She had lived long enough, had seen enough uproar and war to know when the foundation of things was being threatened. If Black Heart and the crazy Fae Queen had their way, a new regime was already on its way in.

  Surah could feel his presence behind her even before his enormous head rested upon her shoulder, the soft fur there tickling her neck.

  There will be no change in regime, love, Samson told her, his deep voice sounding only in her mind.

  Surah answered aloud, but found she did not recognize the sound of her own voice. It was as if something essential had been lost. And, really, she supposed it had.

  “I am the last of the Stormsong line,” she said, voice inflectionless. “Not another soul walking this earth shares the same blood as mine.”

  Samson came around to the front of her, blocking the worst of the view below from her sight with his large, black-and-blue striped body. His amber cat eyes met the violet of hers and held firm.

  Yes, he agreed. You are the last of the Stormsong line, and rightful heir to the throne. You are the daughter of kings and scholars, the blood of the highest men. You have suffered, my dear heart, and lost more than most could stand. On your shoulders rests the fate of your people, a weight too much for most to bear. You are not most. You are Queen Surah Stormsong, and that is your city down there, and your people tearing it apart.

  Samson paused, licking her hand with his warm, rough tongue and nuzzling his head against the thick velvet of her cloak.

  So tell me, my queen, he continued, what is it you intend to do about it?

  Surah’s head lifted, and the broken pieces of her heart seemed to shiver in her chest—not quite beating again, but warmed by the faith of her best friend. Yes, she had lost her family, her father, the faith of her people… and Charlie.

  But she was indeed Queen Surah Stormsong, first of her name and rightful heir to the Sorcerer’s throne, and whether they liked it or not, those were her people down there.

  Surah stood, her chin lifting and shoulders squaring, and released a deep breath, thanking her giant tiger with a rub behind the ears, which Samson accepted happily.

  “I’m going to get control of my kingdom,” she said. “And then I’m going to lay my father to rest… After that, I suppose I have a Sorcerer and a Fae Queen to attend to.”

  And what about Charlie Redmine? What are you going to do about him?

  Surah sighed and shook her head. If she spoke on that matter, she was afraid she just might cry. And there was no time for that. There was no room for weakness. War was upon them, and war called for warriors.

  Samson’s mouth opened wide in a yawn, and he stretched his lean body, running his tongue out over his face. He knew her well enough to know when not to push something.

  First things first, then, he told her, we need to pay the council a visit. We don’t know what Theodine Gray has told them, and the death of both your father and your uncle will soon spread. We don’t want the council members even thinking about unseating you.

  Surah nodded, grateful for the change in subject and happy to feel something through the numbness that had befallen her, even if it was just a burning hatred for her late uncle, Gregory Brightstar, Head of the Royal Council. A joyless smile pulled up her lips when she thought about how she’d found her traitorous uncle standing over her father’s dead body, and how she had taken her own daggers to her uncle for his treachery.

  It had been righteous, the killing of Gregory Brightstar, but righteous or no, a king and the head of his council were now dead, and Gods only knew what Theodine Gray and the council members were planning on doing about it. Everyone who shared her blood had died within this legacy, and she would be damned if they would take it from her.

  “Let’s go put some people in their places, Sam,” she said.

  The giant cat’s mouth twitched in a way that Surah knew was his feline version of a smirk.

  Certainly, my heart. I thought you’d never ask.

  CHAPTER 2

  SURAH

  Sure enough, they were holding a meeting without her. Surah’s violet eyes narrowed as the doors to the Long Table Room swung open with a flick of her wrist. It felt good to have the Magic back. For that, at least, she was thankful.

  But she would not forget that the death of her father was the price that was paid for its return. And that those who had caused its disappearance in the first place needed to be dealt with.

  Surah walked smoothly over to the head of the long, wooden table, Samson trailing at her side. A thick silence had fallen over the room, and all eyes swiveled her way. Another flick of her wrist and the chair where her father had once presided over these meetings slid out from the table. The scrape it made against the hardwood floor was the only sound in the room. Everyone present—including a very alert Theodine Gray, whom Surah did not fail to notice had taken her uncle’s previously held seat—seemed to be holding their breath.

  Surah met their eyes in turn and took a seat, the smooth look on her face somehow both inscrutable and challenging.

  Theo spoke first. “My lady,” he said, “should you not be resting? You’ve been thro—”

  Surah held up a hand, cutting him off. Something in her violet gaze had him shutting his mouth. “You will address me by my proper title, Lord Gray—as your queen,” she said, pausing to meet the gazes of everyone in the room. She was met with slightly wide eyes and silence. “And as queen, I’m not pleased to find my council meeting without me.”

  “It’s true, then?” said Lord Nightborn, Head of the Treasury. “King Syrian is dead?”

  Surah’s voice was inflectionless as she spoke. “My father was murdered by Gregory Brightstar,” she said. “And for his treachery, Lord Brightstar has paid his debt.”

  There were gasps all around at this, save for Theo, who was watching Surah very closely. He seemed to come to some kind of decision, giving a nod of agreement. “I can confirm this,” Theo said. “I was witness.”

  Surah hid her surprise at Theo’s backing, thinking that maybe bringing things to order in her court would not be as difficult as she’d anticipated, but when Theo spoke next, her heart sank down in her chest and settled somewhere on the cold floor.

  “Lord Brightstar met justice, but we mustn’t forget the root of his treachery,” Theo said. “There are those who oppose the kingdom, and who seek to see a new face upon the throne.”

  Surah did not miss the veiled challenge in Theo’s eyes as he said this. Her jaw clenched, but her tone registered even. “And they’ve got a new face for their throne, Lord Gray,” she sa
id. She looked to the rest of the council, five members in all now, with the loss of her uncle—one from each of the six royal families. “I need to know that I have your loyalty,” she told them. “If I’ve got opposition, tell me now, or accept me as your queen.”

  There was a moment of silence where Surah was sure time stopped along with the beating of her heart. Then, slowly, one by one, the council members began to rise from the table. Now Surah’s heart felt as though it was jammed up in her throat.

  She realized she was holding her breath when each member took to their knees, kneeling before her. Lady Nightborn and Lord Lancer—the mother of Merin Nightborn and the father of Cynthian Lancer, both of whom had been murdered by Black Heart when this whole mess had started—were the last to kneel. Surah found she could breathe again when they, too, finally bent knee, though she did not miss the fact that they were merely following suit, and were obviously more than reluctant.

  An enormous weight settled down on her shoulders as she recalled that beyond the stone walls of the castle, her kingdom was in a state of emergency. “Please, rise,” she said, and waited as the council members reclaimed their seats.

  Again, it was Theo who spoke first. “We are at war,” he said, and for some reason, this seemed to open the floodgates.

  “You don’t say,” Lady Nightborn muttered.

  “We can’t afford a war,” chimed Lord Goldday.

  “We’ve been at war since my daughter was murdered,” thundered Lord Lancer.

  “The Fae are the ones we’ve got to deal with first,” Theo said. “The Fae Queen has clearly aligned herself with Black Heart.”

  “Why would that mad fairy do such a thing? What could she want?” asked Lady Rain.

  Lord Lancer scoffed. “Territory and power, of course. It’s what the races have always gone to war over.”

  Lady Nightborn, who had only been listening since her first utterance, spoke out above the voices now. “Is anyone going to address the elephant standing in the middle of this table, or not?”

  Silence fell once more, and Surah’s shoulders tightened a fraction as Lady Nightborn turned toward her. “Darling,” Lady Nightborn began, “I’m very sorry for the loss of your father, our king. Syrian was a great man, a man who truly believed in doing what was best for the people. I believe he passed that trait on to you, and I’ve loved you like family since you were a little girl.”

  Surah said nothing to this, only waited.

  Lady Nightborn placed her hands on the table, leaning forward now. “But what is your involvement with Black Heart’s brother?” she asked. Her eyes scanned the rest of the party. “Does no one else find it suspicious that Lord Brightstar publicly accused her of treason, and now he has died at her hands?”

  The first thing that popped into Surah’s head to say was that she could see to it that her uncle wasn’t the only one who died by her hands, but she bit this response back. Threats rarely made good solutions in such situations, and she reminded herself that Lady Nightborn was a grieving mother. Greif was something Surah could more than relate to.

  Samson’s deep voice sounded in her head. He’d been so silent thus far she’d nearly forgotten he was there. Grieving or no, he told her, remember there are places these people need to be put back into.

  The enormous cat took to his feet, moving around to the back of Lady Nightborn’s chair, making her shift uncomfortably. Surah had to suppress a smile. Maybe she would hold off on threats, but she made no promises of her Great Tiger. He needed only to be near for one to feel the pressure.

  “I’ll ask once more,” Surah began, meeting Lady Nightborn’s eyes, “and then we’ll be done with this… If there is anyone who doesn’t wish to call me Queen, leave this room and don’t return.”

  Lady Nightborn let out a small huff, but said nothing. Neither did anyone else present.

  Surah nodded. “Good, then as such I will not be questioned on my personal affairs,” she said. She turned to Theo, eager to be done with the subject of Charlie Redmine. “Lord Gray, have all available hands on border patrol. We can’t afford to have the Fae entering our Territory again.”

  “The Magic protecting the Territory is back in place, my queen,” Theo said. “Do you not think they would be of more use here in the city, protecting the castle and controlling the citizens?”

  Surah shook her head. “We can’t leave the rest of the kingdom unprotected. That’s what Black Heart wants. He wants to show the common people that when it comes down to it, we don’t care about their safety as much as ours, that we think our lives have more value.”

  There was a moment of silence then where none of the royals spoke the two words that popped to the forefront of their minds. Surah could practically read them on their foreheads: We do.

  For the first time, she wondered if Black Heart did not have a point in his madness. If her own council felt far superior to those they were supposed to serve, how could they be expected to do anything but put their own interests first?

  You are queen now, Samson told her. You may rebuild this world in any manner you see fit.

  A queen is nothing if not the champion of her people, she replied silently.

  Then champion away.

  “Extra Hunters are to be sent to every border station,” Surah said, her tone allowing for no argument. She stood from the table, her chair sliding back with a loud scrape. Samson took to his feet as well, towering over those seated and making them shift uneasily in their seats.

  “And may I ask where you’re going, my queen?” said Theo.

  Surah’s violet eyes were hard enough to make a lesser man shiver, but Head Hunter Theodine Gray was not a lesser man. Her voice came out with the smoothness that had taken her centuries to perfect. “Since I’m now queen, a new Seeker must be named, and there’s also a city to be tamed. Do you have any more questions, Lord Gray?”

  The way he looked at her seemed to convey so much, and in the silent space between them, she could practically read the thoughts in his head. She wished she could take that last part back, because Theo had asked for her hand in marriage, and she had not given him an answer. He had seen her and Charlie kiss, and had not spoken to her about the matter yet, either. He’d taken her side both publicly and before the council just now. He’d held her in his arms as she’d cried over her father’s still-fresh body. And then he’d taken her to her room and left her be until she’d just entered the Long Table Room.

  Of course he had questions. Tons of questions, and for the first time ever, she thought that Theo just might deserve answers.

  But he said nothing to this, and this only made her feel worse. She could practically feel Samson rolling his eyes beside her, but before she could stop herself, she spoke.

  “Lord Gray,” she said, “Would you assist me in restoring order to the city?”

  A bit of surprise sparked behind Theo’s eyes, but he only nodded, standing from his chair. When he approached her, she slipped her arm through his, giving him a smile that was not completely forced.

  Careful now, love, Sam told her. Let’s not be brash.

  Surah ignored this, wondering why she had never noticed how handsome Theo was when he smiled, and why he didn’t do it more often.

  “I would be honored to assist you,” Theo said, and Surah couldn’t tell if it was her grief, her fear, or her heartbreak, but there was a small part of her that wanted very much to believe him.

  The rest of her was somewhere else completely. The rest of her was with the man who had been partly responsible for the deaths of her mother and sister, the man who was the brother of the most notorious Sorcerer of their time, the man who had somehow captured her heart and still refused to let go despite all the stars in the universe being crossed against them.

  And the man she had asked Theodine Gray to help her catch and kill in a moment of weakness and grief. She hadn’t meant that had she? She didn’t really want to see Charlie dead… Did she? With this thought came a shock of fear so intense that her kne
es felt weak for a moment, and she gripped Theo’s arm a little tighter for support.

  Black Heart wouldn’t kill his brother for taking her side… Would he?

  This was all it took for her to realize the answers to her questions. She could deny it to others all she wanted, but she could not lie to herself. She loved Charlie Redmine more than the sun loved the day and the moon loved the night.

  Oh, Charlie, she thought. What am I supposed to do now?

  Of course, it was Samson who answered her. The best you can, my love, the giant cat told her. It’s all anyone ever can do.

  CHAPTER 3

  CHARLIE

  He awoke to the bell-like giggling of children, his eyes peeling open slowly and reluctantly, as if the lids weighed ninety pounds. Sitting up took considerable effort, but he was jolted into awareness when his vision cleared and he saw the multiple sets of strange eyes staring back at him.

  Charlie’s head whipped around, taking in his surroundings. He was in some sort of cage made of thick and thorny green vines. The ground on which he sat was covered in velvety leaves as soft as bird feathers. The air smelled green, like summer rain and healthy vegetation. There was even a slightly sweet taste to it, as though invisible sugar hung in the atmosphere.

  Enormous trees unlike any Charlie had ever seen towered around him, the canopies above made up of soft pastels, as if the leaves were composed of cotton candy. Morning light was just beginning to filter through the trees, a golden hue coloring the places it touched.

  And, of course, there were several Fae children surrounding him, their wide, slanted eyes blinking with mischief.

  I’m in the Fae Forest, Charlie realized. Then amended: I’m being held captive in the Fae Forest.

  “Good morning, little brother,” said an unmistakable voice behind him. With it, the Fae children that had been staring at Charlie scattered, disappearing into the forest as if they could melt into the trees.