The Kingdom Thief (Sitnalta Series Book 2)

by Alisse Lee Goldenberg

  King Parven sat at the head of the table, Queen Kika on his right. In front of him lay a piece of parchment.

  “We received word from one of our friends,” the King began. “He says that Wilhelm is sending men to all corners of the kingdom in search of the Princess. He has King Gerald and Queen Aud locked away in the dungeons. This we already knew. However, in an attempt to get Sitnalta’s whereabouts from Gerald, he has moved Aud to the lowest level.”

  Sitnalta let out a cry of protest. She knew what conditions that would mean for Aud, and it infuriated her that this man could treat her so harshly.

  King Parven looked at Sitnalta with kindness. “I understand your concern. We will find a way to save them both. I brought you here to give you my word on that.”

  “Thank you,” Sitnalta said. “However, your word does not get Aud out of her cell. We need much more than that. We need a plan.”

  King Parven nodded. “I agree.” He frowned. He knew that his agreement would do nothing to alleviate the Princess’s fears. He also knew that as long as he remained on his island, his hands were tied when it came to aiding his friend. He was torn. He didn’t know which duty he should attend to. If he stayed where he was, he could protect the Princess to the best of his abilities. Yet if he went to Colonodona in person, he might have a better chance at saving Gerald and Aud.

  Sitnalta watched Parven as he stood lost in thought. She could see that he was conflicted. I wish I were able to read his mind. As that thought came to her, a second thought swiftly followed. What is happening here feels almost as if magical forces are at work! She thought and gasped. But what could have so much power?

  “What is it?” King Parven asked.

  Sitnalta opened her mouth to speak, and then thought better of it. “Nothing,” she lied. “I was just thinking about my family.”

  Parven’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe the Princess for a second. Yet, he let it slide. “As you wish,” he said to her. “Come join me downstairs. I think we should eat. It is far better to plan on a full stomach than it is on an empty one.”

  Sitnalta nodded. She would speak to Navor after breakfast.

  * * *

  Sitnalta sat at the breakfast table trying to catch Prince Navor’s eyes with hers. He sat engrossed with the pile of food on his plate, and ate as if he were starving. She had cursed when she saw where he had chosen to sit, not wanting his parents to hear her words.

  Sitnalta sighed as she pushed some eggs around with her spoon, and forced herself to take a few bites. Finally the Prince glanced up and Sitnalta raised her eyebrows at him.

  “I need to talk to you,” she mouthed at him.

  Navor shrugged, not understanding what she was trying to say.

  “After breakfast,” Sitnalta mouthed again. She didn’t want the King to hear their conversation.

  Navor nodded to show that he finally understood.

  “The garden.” Sitnalta hoped he knew what she meant.

  The rest of the meal passed by in relative silence. Sitnalta hurriedly drank down a glass of juice and asked to be excused. King Parven nodded to her and she exited the palace to the flowerbeds outside. She found a stone bench beneath a large willow tree and sat down watching for the Prince to come.

  Before long, Navor made his way to where Sitnalta sat, and joined her on the bench.

  “What’s going on?” he asked her.

  “I think I know what’s been going on,” Sitnalta replied. “And I know how we can stop it.”

  Navor looked at her. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “Do you remember how I told you about my double memories?” Sitnalta asked him.

  Navor slowly nodded. “Yes, and I told you on the ship that I have had strange memories as well.”

  “Do you also remember the story of the time I ran away from home, and how I lived in the forest with my friend?”

  “Najort,” Navor said, remembering her friend’s name. “You told me about him.”

  Sitnalta looked into Navor’s eyes. The same look of concern lay in them, as she had seen in Najort’s time and again. Sitnalta closed her eyes. It hurt to be reminded of him, especially now when Gerald and Aud were in trouble.

  “Najort had a coin,” she said. “It was magical. It possessed the ability to grant wishes for whomever held it. Najort used it on me. He wished me to have happiness. I remember that Gerald took it and locked it away in the castle somewhere. I think that someone must have stolen it and used it. I’m willing to bet that that someone was Wilhelm.”

  “Why didn’t you tell my father this?” Navor asked.

  “Do you really think he’d believe me?”

  Navor chewed his bottom lip in thought. “Probably not. While he accepts wizards, and what they can do, he’s always been so skeptical about things he can’t actually see for himself.”

  “I didn’t think so,” Sitnalta said. “He’s a really kind man, but he seems very...”

  “Rooted in reality,” Navor supplied. “He’s always telling me that I need to be more like that.”

  Sitnalta smiled. “I don’t know. I like you just as you are.”

  “Thanks,” Navor said, as a blush crept up his face. All of a sudden, his eyes went wide. “I almost forgot! I have something for you.” He pulled a letter from his pocket. “This came today.”

  Sitnalta snatched it from his hand. She unfolded it as quickly as she could and scanned the words eager for some news.

  Princess,

  I am so happy to hear that you are well. I wish I could say the same for us back home. Wilhelm is indeed a tyrant. I have managed to find a way to remain in contact with both the true King and Queen, and I am happy to report that they are in good spirits. I have informed them that you arrived to safety, and are doing as well as can be expected. I am sure that this news brought them some peace of mind.

  We are doing all we can to find a way to bring Wilhelm down and out of power as quickly as possible. As soon as this is done, I assure you that we will bring you home. I owe you more than I can say, and I will continue to remain yours.

  Ipsinki

  Sitnalta finished reading the letter with a tear in her eye. She had developed a strong fondness for the Duke. He had tried to save her from Supmylo, and she had repaid him in kind, saving his life from an unjust execution. She would reread his letter later and form a reply.

  “Do you think we should tell Ipsinki about the coin?” Navor asked her.

  Sitnalta thought for a moment. “Maybe,” she said. “He might believe me. But then he’d probably try to steal it. That might be suicide. I don’t want another friend’s blood on my hands.”

  Navor frowned. “Another?” He reached over and took her hand in his. “You weren’t responsible for Najort’s death.”

  “How do you know?” Sitnalta asked, refusing to meet his eyes. “You weren’t there.”

  “I just know. Trust me.”

  Sitnalta forced herself to look up and meet his gaze. She saw such warmth and tenderness there, it took her breath away. The look on his face set her heart fluttering. She felt such affection for him in that moment. She felt herself leaning forward, and without thinking, she quickly pressed her lips to his.

  “Thank you for saying that,” she said when she pulled away. She took her hand back and placed it in her lap.

  “So,” Navor said. “Um, are we...”

  “I don’t know if we should tell Ipsinki,” Sitnalta said, ignoring how flustered Navor seemed. She thought hard. “There may be someone else we could contact.”

  Navor looked at Sitnalta. She seemed as if she wanted to ignore the kiss, and he was willing to play along. For the moment. “Who?”

  “The wizard who created it,” Sitnalta replied.

  “Kralc?” Navor said.

  Sitnalta looked at him sharply. “How did you know that?”

  “I don’t know,” Navor answered. “But I do remember reading about him in the
library. He was the most powerful wizard around. If anyone could have made your coin, I’m willing to bet it was him. If it wasn’t, he’d probably still know a way to stop its power. Reverse the wish.”

  “I don’t want to just reverse the wish,” Sitnalta said in a quiet voice.

  “Then what do you want to do?”

  “I think the coin should be destroyed. Then no one could ever do something like this ever again.”

  Navor heard the anger and determination in the Princess’s voice, and he felt chills.

  “Najort once told me that the coin was too dangerous for anyone to ever use. That’s why he was guarding it in his cave. He was protecting it from the world. I wanted to use it once. It was so tempting.”

  “What were you going to wish for?”

  “I wanted my mother back,” Sitnalta whispered. “I’d never known her, but I knew that she loved me. I wanted someone who loved me in my life. But Najort stopped me. I know he was right, but I was so angry with him at the time. He was right about a lot of things. But he was wrong to protect the coin. He should have destroyed it the second he got it.”

  Sitnalta stood and looked down at Navor. “I’m going to go inside. I need to write back to Ipsinki. Could we meet at the library later?”

  Navor smiled up at her. “Of course. Although, eventually we need to talk about...”

  “Why?” Sitnalta asked him. “I thought you liked me.”

  I don’t just like you, Navor thought as he ran a hand through his hair. “I do,” he said. “I just...never mind.”

  “Okay,” Sitnalta said. “Thank you for listening.”

  “I will always listen,” Navor promised as she walked away.

  Chapter Eight

  Dreams

  Navor sat in a clearing surrounded by wildflowers. He could hear Sitnalta laughing from somewhere behind him, and he felt completely at peace. He thought back to their day and smiled as he remembered how she’d sat at his feet making garlands of daisies, and suddenly frowned.

  No. We’d been in the library looking for signs of Kralc.

  But why would we do that? Kralc left me here alone years ago. Besides, I have no library here in the forest.

  Navor felt such confusion building in his head. He remembered how Sitnalta had kissed him that day in the garden. How beautiful and sad she had been, and he felt a righteous anger alongside these feelings.

  A kiss! Sitnalta is a child! She is like our little sister!

  No! She is the princess my father would like me to marry one day. She is my friend, and I love her!

  I love her. That thought was the one thing he could not argue with himself over. He loved her. He loved her loyalty, her kindness, and her imagination. He loved the way she would fight for those she cared about with everything she had. He loved her laugh. He loved her smile. He would do anything in his power to make sure she never stopped smiling ever again.

  He heard footsteps coming up from behind and felt his heart quicken in his breast. Two small hands covered his eyes.

  “Guess who?”

  He laughed. “It could only be my Princess.”

  Sitnalta laughed and uncovered his eyes. She sat down in front of him and smiled. He was shocked to see how young she looked. Her hair was longer than he ever remembered seeing it before, pooling around her in the grass as she sat.

  “What?” she asked. “You look a little bit confused.”

  “It’s nothing,” he replied. “You just look so happy.”

  “I’m always happy when I’m with you,” Sitnalta answered. “You’re my best friend, Najort.”

  Navor blinked. Najort? That can’t be right. He looked at the Princess and frowned. “What did you call me?” he asked.

  “Najort,” she said. “That’s your name, silly.”

  He got up onto his feet. “Excuse me.”

  He walked off through the trees, his mind whirling. What was happening? He walked on towards where he knew a pond lay. A small portion of his mind asked how he knew this. He ignored the question. He came through the trees and knelt beside the still water. He leaned over the edge, willing himself to be brave as he looked at his reflection. He stifled a scream as he looked at the misshapen head, the unkempt mop of brown curls, the crooked sharp teeth, and the wide brown eyes. None of the features were his own, and yet they were unsettlingly familiar. He looked deep into his troll-like reflection. He felt a certainty deep inside that this face was his, and this certainty caused the scream that had been building to pour forth from his mouth.

  * * *

  Navor woke up with a shout. He sat upright in his bed, his covers twisted around his legs, his clothing drenched in sweat. The dream lay in his memory with a crystalline clarity. He wasn’t sure if it was a true dream, or a memory made into a dream. He just knew that his mind was trying to tell him something important. He got up and went to his desk to find some paper and a quill. He lit a candle, sat down and began to sketch.

  The rest of the night passed fitfully by for Navor. He had been telling the truth about his memories being strange. He had spent days certain that he had spent far more time with the Princess than he actually had. He remembered picking apples with her, but the trees had been growing wild, and he had stayed on the ground. Yet, he knew that this was impossible. They’d only ever been in the castle’s orchard. He remembered sitting by a pond together, her telling stories, yet there was no pond on the castle grounds.

  He lay in bed with his drawing clenched tightly in his fist, fretting over his dreams. When he saw the dawn creep over his windowsill, he gave up on getting any more sleep and washed and dressed himself for the day. Still clutching his drawing, the Prince made his way down to the dining hall. He sat idly picking at his food, eyeing the paper beside him. He didn’t know why he has it with him, he just felt strange leaving it alone in his bedroom. It nagged at him, and he worried at the image in his mind the way he did a loose thread on his clothes.

  Soon, Sitnalta joined him, smiling as she sat across from him. His food had long grown cold, but he didn’t care. He looked up at her and tried to return her grin.

  “I couldn’t sleep either,” she said. “I know we didn’t find anything yesterday, but I just know that today will be different.”

  Navor didn’t answer. He looked at her, unconsciously noting the differences between the Sitnalta who was in front of him, and the one he saw in his dream.

  “Are you okay?” She crinkled her brow with worry. She could see the dark circles under his eyes, and the fatigue in the way he held himself. “You didn’t sleep at all, did you?” She saw the paper sitting beside him on the table. “What’s that?” she asked as she reached across to grab it.

  “Don’t!” Navor cried as he made a move to stop her, but she was too quick for him.

  Sitnalta unrolled the drawing and looked at it, her purple eyes wide with shock. She found herself staring into Najort’s face. Every feature, every lock of hair was exactly as she remembered it.

  “Where did you get this?” she asked. Her voice caught on the last word as if she were trying not to cry.

  “I didn’t get it,” Navor answered. His voice barely rose above a whisper.

  Sitnalta looked at him. Her hands holding the drawing shook with emotion. “No, you didn’t...did you draw this?”

  Navor could only nod. He felt as if he had lost the ability to speak.

  “How?” Sitnalta asked. “How could you possibly draw this?”

  “I saw it in my dream,” Navor answered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was my reflection.” Navor couldn’t look her in the eye. “You were there too. We were in the forest. You were laughing. You called me ‘Najort’. I was myself, but I was also him. I remembered being scared and confused about it all. I still am. You say that you have two sets of memories. I think I might, too.” He looked up at her, finally meeting her gaze. “Sitnalta, who am I?”

  Sitnalta felt a hysterica
l giggle threaten to rise in her throat. Her eyes prickled with unshed tears. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  Chapter Nine

  Letters

  Ipsinki sat alone in his room above the village tavern. To the best of his knowledge, no one knew he was staying there. The tavern’s owner was a long-time friend of King Gerald, and bore no love for Wilhelm. Ipsinki gave a wry grin. He found that the new King had very few friends that he didn’t have to pay off in order to secure their loyalty. This fact made it a lot easier to move about in public without fear of arrest, or worse.

  Ipsinki pulled the letters he had received that day closer to the candle’s flickering flame. He smiled upon recognizing Princess Sitnalta’s scrawling handwriting. She wrote as she thought, trying hard for her words on the paper to keep up with the thoughts racing through her mind.

  My dear friend,

  Thank you so very much for your letter. It pains me greatly to think of my dear Aud and Gerald locked up in such a fashion. I hope that there is a way we can free them soon.

  I am safe where I am, and I am among friends. We have been thinking hard about the whole awful situation, and I believe that we know the true reason behind it. As such (if we are correct), we also know how Wilhelm can be defeated once and for all.

  I do not want to say much more, out of fear that this letter may fall into enemies’ hands.

  Please keep yourself safe. I don’t know what I would do if something horrible were to happen to you.

  I remain your friend always,

  S

  Ipsinki read the note several times before holding it to the candle’s flame, frowning as he watched it burn. He wished he understood what she meant by “the true reason behind it.” Behind what? Could she be referring to the King and Queen’s imprisonment? That was clear to anyone. Ipsinki thought it had to be more than that. He rose, blew out his candle, and went to lie down on the narrow bed. He pulled the thin blanket around himself and lay in the dark trying to sleep, but the Princess’s letter filled his mind with questions that would not cease.