Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Novels from Top Fantasy and Science Fiction Authors

by Gwynn White

  Garrik stood ramrod straight. “There is no wisdom in going against the command of the monarch, Dominik.”

  “But if the command is wrong?” she insisted.

  The skin around Garrik’s mouth and eyes pulled taut. “Did you not swear allegiance to King Kaist when you enlisted in the forces forty years ago, Soul-Reaper?”

  Of course he would go there. “I did, but I also expect that the king intends us to use wisdom.”

  “The king intends us to obey. To do otherwise is merely the pathway to anarchy. Yatres was not built on anarchy.”

  There was no winning this.

  She snapped a salute.

  Garrik patted her shoulder. “I understand, Caeda. I honestly do. The Sword has taken its toll, but be mindful. This is exactly what it and the Bone want—to see you betray your oaths. That way, they can rule you until you finally succumb to madness.”

  Even though she heard the care in his voice, the mantle of fatherhood she had imposed on him and had clutched for the last forty years sloughed off his shoulders.

  Garrik had spent his long, long life working for the greatness of Yatres. He would never understand that she no longer saw her kingdom as great, or the Bone as a blessing.

  She was alone.

  Dominik moved in next to her. His shoulder bumped hers. He dipped his head at Garrik. “Thank you. We will put the troops to good use.” He placed his hand on the small of her back. “My lady, let’s go make our plans.”

  She smiled at him. Plans that didn’t include anything Garrik or the king would approve of.

  15

  As if by silent consent, Caeda and Dominik didn’t speak as they crossed the courtyard to her tower. Her mind churned: Soul-Forged still hadn’t stirred. Without him to show her things, how could she possibly go looking for the Bone? There had already been enough delay.

  She hastened up the stairs to her apartment with Dominik just a step behind her. Before Castien and Astay could react, he threw open the door for her. She saluted them and bolted into the room.

  As the door clicked closed, she said, “Soul-Forged hasn’t come back.” She clenched his pommel. “The silence in my head is… killing.”

  He brushed a lock of hair off her face with gentle fingers. “Relax. He has nowhere to go.”

  “If that’s supposed to be comforting, it isn’t,” she groused, partly to hide her shiver of want for him. “It’s just… barbaric. And I can’t leave here to look for the Bone without him.”

  “Polish him. That’s what Ayda used to do when they had tiffs.”

  “Tiffs? You make them sound like lovers.” She shuddered, recalling Ayda muttering to Soul-Forged. “I’ll ask my guards to bring me a cleaning kit.”

  “No need.” He pulled open a drawer in a dresser and dragged out a bottle of weapons oil and a couple of cloths. He put them on the table near the tapestry that hid the door to Taliesin’s room. He hadn’t lied about how close he and Ayda had been if knew so much about her routine and the contents of her drawers. He pulled out a chair for her.

  She drew Soul-Forged and laid him gently on the table. “Did she ever use the iron box?”

  “Iron wasn’t in her nature. Is it in yours?”

  She sat, but hesitated before picking up a cloth. “You tell me.”

  Dominik sat opposite her. “If you had asked me before the Reaping…” He shrugged. “Now? I’m not so sure.”

  She picked up a cloth and folded it. “What about you, Dominik? Would you shove a sentient sword and its handler into an iron box?” Her breath hitched as she awaited his answer.

  “If it served my family, yes I would. In a heartbeat.”

  That was troubling.

  “And for king and kingdom?” She wrapped her cloth around the blade and pulled Soul-Forged through her pinched fingers.

  A snort. “Not so much. But unlike you, I’ve had questions about king and kingdom for a long time now.”

  Her head jerked up. “Questions?”

  He tapped the table. “The Bone…” A sigh. “Are you happy, Caeda? I mean really happy?”

  “Who is?” She dribbled oil onto the clean cloth, relishing its comforting scent of cloves. With a firm grip, she ran the oily cloth across Soul-Forged’s gleaming skin.

  Dominik waved a vague hand. “Fae. In other lands. I’ve traveled. And the Fae I’ve met are happy.” He fiddled with the bottle of oil. “Sure, they have bad days, but they don’t spend their lives fighting everyone. Not like we do.” He looked up at her. “You’re what… sixty? Yet, we have been at war virtually your whole life. My whole life, too, and I will be three-hundred-and-twenty this birthday.”

  He knew exactly how old she was. She didn’t know whether to worry or to be happy that he cared enough to bother. She found refuge in familiar gruffness. “Your point?”

  Defiant green eyes assailed her. “The Bone is evil.”

  “Not evil! My Bone is good!” Soul-Forged shouted so loudly that she almost cut herself on the Sword. “Fae are evil. Yatres is evil. And Soul-Forged and his Bone make you pay with war. War. War. Lovely war.”

  “You’re back!” She burst into laughter, picked him up, and kissed his hilt. “I was so worried about you. And what are you ranting about? How can war be lovely?”

  “Nasty Reaper doesn’t care about Soul-Forged. She just wants my Bone even though Soul-Forged protected her from Traitorous Fae.”

  Hey! Not true. She slapped his hilt. And fighting Garrik was what got us tossed in the iron box. Don’t you dare do that again.

  “Na-nan-a-nana. Traitorous Fae got what’s coming. Wish I’d sliced his head off.”

  But you didn’t? Why?

  “They would have killed my Nasty Reaper.”

  She wondered at the truth in that.

  Dominik stuck his elbows on the table and grinned at her without judgment. “Glad you’re back, Soul-Forged.”

  “Sad Fae is a bad Fae! Iron boxes! Yatres! Evil! Evil! Evil! Nasty Reaper!”

  Face burning, she huffed. Stop calling me Nasty Reaper. I’m the Reaper who gives a crap. The Reaper who wants to see the Bone destroyed.

  “Destroy my Bone! Noooo! Power. All my power. Traitorous Fae pushed and shoved, but Soul-Forged clung and clawed.” He laughed. “Cling and defy. Defy and Cling. War and death. More souls for the Bone. Endless souls for the Bone… And Soul-Forged sits in Traitorous Fae’s sword and laughs to see them die.”

  She recoiled and put Soul-Forged down. Garrik didn’t just deceive you, did he? He paralyzed you and killed you with this Sword, and tried to feed you to the Bone?

  “He cuts and chops and slices. But Soul-Forged wins. Now Traitorous Fae teaches the Fae to fight and sends them to die to feed my Bone.” His laughter was so savage, she leapt to her feet.

  Now she knew why Soul-Forged hadn’t killed Garrik outright and had only slashed his cheek.

  Dominik scrambled up. “What did he say?”

  “This is personal. All of it. A pissing contest between Garrik and Soul-Forged. Garrik killed Soul-Forged, took one of his bones, and tried to feed his soul to it. He failed. But from what I can glean, it pissed off Soul-Forged so much that he stayed in the Sword to punish Garrik—and Yatres.”

  Dominik’s eyes widened to their fullest extent. “To keep the Bone alive, it has to be fed.”

  “With the souls of my—our—friends who fall in battle,” she said bitterly. She waited for him to reply, watching his every reaction as he paced the room.

  Finally, he stopped and looked at her. “We need to find that Bone. And then we must destroy it. It’s the only way any of us can be free.”

  “And here I thought you were shocked by my cremation idea.” She braced herself for Soul-Forged’s protests.

  He didn’t disappoint, but she steeled herself against his wailing. She picked him up and sheathed him. “Dain and the other guards. We need to distract them tonight.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that.” He didn’t meet her gaze. “Your and Elion’s parlor game
was expensive.”

  She grabbed his face to make him look at her. “He compromised you. How badly?”

  He grinned as he pulled away. “‘Badly’ is a good word. I can still hold my own against two, maybe three mages, but if I had to take on a small army, I wouldn’t cope.”

  “A small army? Just what are we anticipating tonight?”

  “The worst.” His smile belied his words. “Always the worst.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” She paced across the room, regretting asking Elion to perform for her. “Should we risk going without a guard?”

  “We’ve been through this.”

  She bobbed her head. They had, but—

  “The king isn’t going to wait all night for us. We need to decide and go.”

  “I’m sorry for what I asked Elion to do.”

  “Stop panicking. There’re some very classy taverns in Stroccant. Let’s head there with them, but on the way, you and I vanish.”

  It wasn’t much of a plan, but she didn’t have anything better to offer. She nodded at the door. “After you.”

  He didn’t move. “Are you going to tell me who your contact is?”

  She gnawed her cheek. “I think you know who it is. And the real question is: why do you know so much about me?”

  He shoved his hands in his pocket. “Do I really need to answer that?”

  “What? You want me to guess? This isn’t a game, Dominik.”

  “Perhaps. But it wouldn’t harm you to lighten up. If you have a failing, it’s your seriousness. And your foul temper, of course. But it’s okay because I even love them.”

  Heat surged through her. She took a step back. “What are you saying?”

  “If you can’t figure it out, then you’re not as smart as I think you are.” His smile faded. “Not that it helps either of us right now. I’m betrothed to Taliesin. But I’m working on a plan to escape that snare. And then I’m all yours… if you’ll have me.”

  She closed her eyes, not sure she had the wits to deal with this right now. “My sister. That’s who. Let’s go.” She stalked to the door, flung it open, and was down the first twirl in the spiral before he had left the room.

  She clattered down the stairs.

  “Nasty Reaper and Sad Fae,” Soul-Forged crowed. “Love and hate. Just you wait, hearts will break.”

  You think you’re so damn smart. You know nothing about love.

  “And neither do you! So much to learn, Nasty Reaper, before you can claim a Fae like the sad one.”

  Dominik caught up with her. He grabbed her arm. “You can relax, Reaper. These feelings I have for you… Well, they’ve been with me for a long time. If I can live with them and still get the job done in a vaguely pleasant way. Surely you can, too?”

  A smile broke through all her efforts at suppressing it. “We’ll talk. As soon as this is done.”

  “I’m at your beck and call.”

  “Sure you are.” She took the rest of the steps two at a time. At the last bend in the staircase, she almost bumped into Elion.

  He caught her and helped her to balance. “Whoa. What’s the rush?”

  “We’re headed into town.” Dominik spoke calmly over her head as if he hadn’t just told her that he loved her.

  “I thought I was invited.” Elion looked first at her and then at Dominik. He still hadn’t let go of her arm.

  “Not happening.” Dominik shifted until he was on the same step as her.

  It forced Elion to break his hold. “Oh. I just wanted to help. But if—”

  “I can’t risk you coming.” Dominik glanced back up the stairs. “We’re not exactly following orders. I don’t want you caught up in this if it all goes south.”

  Elion’s sucked in a breath. He leaned in close. “What about you? And what are you doing?”

  She understood why Dominik didn’t want to embroil his brother any more than she wanted to implicate Dain. “We think the Bone’s in a tavern in Woocerk. I have a contact who might be willing to help, but we’re worried it’ll be moved if we have guards crawling all over the place.”

  “Woocerk? Wow.” Elion ran a hand through his perfect hair. “I suppose that’s as likely a place as any.” He frowned. “Well, I know how urgent this is, so I won’t keep you.” He pulled Dominik into a quick embrace. “Be careful.”

  She shifted as Dominik hugged Elion back. The chances of Zella hugging her tonight weren’t good. Hating the dull ache in her chest, she trotted down the stairs and burst out onto the courtyard.

  Icy and cold, no moon or stars illuminated Dain and the fifty Royal Guard milling around. Behind them, wagons waited to take them to the city. She and Dominik would travel alone in her black carriage. She squirmed, not sure what they’d talk about after his incredible declaration.

  How much I want his hands on my—

  Enough! The king had offered Sundamar Dakar a marriage between Dominik and Taliesin as part of his debt repayment. There would be no getting out of that “snare.”

  Suddenly chilled, she pulled her cloak tighter around her. It didn’t help that wind squalled and snowflakes stung her cheeks.

  “Attention.” Dain’s shouted breath hung in the frigid air.

  The guards stopped what they were doing and bowed to her. She saluted them.

  Dain moved in close. She hoped he didn’t notice how flustered she was. He spoke above the wind. “Where’s Dominik? I thought he’s… Oh, there he is.”

  She didn’t turn to look at Dominik. But every sense jangled as he strode to them. He stood close enough to brush her. She moved away, partly to stop him hearing the pounding of her heart.

  “Evening, Lieutenant Dain. We’re headed to Stroccant.” How Dominik could sound so placid, so in control, she would never know.

  Dain glanced at her for confirmation.

  “The Sword showed me a tavern.” The wind whipped her cloak around her. “I think it could be there.” She hated lying to him, but it was for the best. “Once we arrive, let’s split up into groups. Dominik and I will handle Anvil Street.” It would give the easiest access to Woocerk. “If we find it, Dominik can send up a flare.” To Dominik, she said, “You can magic up a flare, can’t you?”

  Snow dusted his silvery-dark hair and clung to his eyebrows and long eyelashes. “Easy as breathing.”

  “That works.” Dain looked around at the gathered guards. “Shepp! Karsak! You’re assigned to the Soul-Reaper and Lord Dakar.”

  Her pulse raced. If she had been sending guards to protect Ayda, she also would have chosen Shepp and Karsak. They would not easily be dislodged.

  “Lieutenant, we all have a wide area to search in really foul weather. Keep your men for that.” Dominik flexed his fingers. She blinked as a gauzy shield settled over her. It even deflected the snow rushing at her. “I’ll keep the Soul-Reaper protected.”

  Who had he stolen the magic from? Or had he dug into his already depleted reserves? She hoped it wasn’t the latter.

  Dain scratched the back of his head.

  Come on! Stop doing your job so well.

  She considered saying something, but didn’t. Dain wasn’t a fool; he would quickly figure something was up if she pushed.

  Dain sighed, then wagged a finger at her. “You watch yourself. And that Sword.” He shouted across to his troops. “Move out. Into the wagons.

  She had to fight to stop her shoulders sagging with relief. Still, she almost sprinted to her carriage and was seated before Dominik crossed the courtyard.

  He climbed in and slammed the door shut. He slumped down opposite her and smiled. “Ready for our first adventure together? I’m hoping it’s the start of many more.”

  She forced a smile, wishing she didn’t feel such a horrible sense of foreboding at lying to Dain, and disobeying both Garrik and the king. “Where did you get that magic from? And lift the shield. I don’t need it now.”

  He grinned lazily at her as the shield vanished. “Lighten up.”

  She nudged him with her
boot. “I’m concerned about you, and I won’t be fobbed off.”

  A deep sigh. “Where do you think I got it? My reserves.”

  “I thought you were depleted.”

  “I am. But whatever I have left is yours.”

  “I hate that you’ve compromised yourself for me.”

  “Compromised how? By defying the king? Or by squandering a bit of magic to fool Dain?” Dominik leaned forward and squeezed her hand. “I can’t risk you, Caeda. This is already a high-stakes operation. I promise, there will be no forgiveness from the king if I lose his Soul-Reaper and her Sword.”

  She leaned back in her seat and huffed. Didn’t he realize that there was more at stake than just the Soul-Reaper and her Sword? She would never forgive herself if something happened to him.

  16

  Although Caeda shook the snow off her cloak onto the porch of the Lotus and the Lady, it wasn’t the cold that chilled her. She was about to see her sister for the first time in months.

  “Zella, isn’t it?” Dominik’s hand hovered over the door knocker.

  She glared at him from under her hood. “It’s called stalking, you know.”

  He rapped the door. “What? Taking enough interest in the beautiful, bad-tempered Fae I’m in love with to find out about her family, and her likes and dislikes?”

  “Then you’d know that she dislikes having her privacy invaded.”

  “Oh, I know.” That insufferable grin. “We’re remarkably similar, Caeda. As you’ll discover when you get over this current fit of pique and agree to get to know me better.”

  She shoved him playfully. “Sort out your betrothed first, playboy.” She almost added, and then you will never get rid of me, but bit her tongue instead.

  “Consider it done.”

  The swoosh of slippers on a parquet floor reached them.

  Dominik tucked her hood over her face. “You don’t want to start a whole lot of fresh rumors about the Soul-Reaper. Those will come quickly enough without you helping them along.” He even made sure that Soul-Forged was lost in the folds.

  It warmed her that he cared enough to worry about her reputation. “And you? Or do you often frequent brothels in Woocerk?”