The Kingdom Thief (Sitnalta Series Book 2)

by Alisse Lee Goldenberg

  Wilhelm smiled. Finally! He thought. Someone who appreciates my power. He took a moment to appreciate the girl’s slender form as she crouched on the ground. He wondered briefly why he had never seen her before.

  “Shall I continue, Sire?” Sitnalta asked. She had not moved from her spot, trying hard to appear meek and scared under his scrutinizing gaze.

  “Carry on,” Wilhelm said with a wave of his hand. “But do so carefully.”

  “I will, Sire,” Sitnalta replied. She turned back to the hearth, using the rag to obscure her other hand as she ran it across the stone, looking for the cool feel of metal under her fingers. As she worked, she felt a spot of warmth flare up under her skin, and she paused, running her hand over the place once more. She remembered how the coin had felt the first time she had held it, the feeling of power that had radiated in her palm. She used the rag to hide what she did as she peered at the stone before her. That spot in the stone had been carved in whorls to resemble gusts of wind coming out from the fireplace. She could see a groove into which something shone with a bit more intensity than the gilt around it. She used her left hand to rub at the stone around it, while her right hand worked at it. She could definitely feel metal wedged into the carving. She carefully picked at it, feeling it move slightly as she pulled. She heard it scrape and held her breath, turning back towards the King. He hadn’t moved. She let her breath out and focused at the task at hand. She pushed at the coin, up and down until it came out of the hole and fell to the ground with a clink.

  Wilhelm heard it and looked up with a start. “What’s this!” he yelled. He saw the girl kneeling on the ground, her eyes wide with fear, and her breath coming in gasps. He saw the coin, his coin, lying on the floor in front of her. With a bellow of rage, Wilhelm overturned his desk and rushed at her, his hands outstretched, ready to choke the life out of her, if need be.

  Sitnalta gasped and grabbed the coin. “Help me!” She screamed out.

  Wilhelm grabbed a hold of her and pulled her close. His eyes shone with a malevolent rage. “You had better drop that coin before I throttle you,” he growled.

  Sitnalta tried to squirm out of his grasp, he was hurting her terribly, his grip crushing her arm. “Kralc!” She shrieked, hysteria building within her. “Help me, please!”

  Outside the room, Kralc stood, hearing the Princess' cries. He wanted to help her, but was powerless against the wards on the room.

  Inside, Sitnalta struggled. She could not get free. She acted on instinct, lashing out with her foot, letting loose a mighty kick that landed squarely between the King's legs. He howled and let go of her arm in surprise. Sitnalta seized the opportunity and fled, running right into Kralc's arms just outside the door. He immediately teleported them to the safety of his tower.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Coin

  Sitnalta whirled around to see Kralc staring at her, his mouth hanging open, eyes wide with shock.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Wilhelm was there,” Sitnalta explained. “I pretended to be cleaning his study, and when I found the coin, he realized what I was up to. He rushed at me. I think he was going to kill me. I grabbed the coin and did the only thing I could think of. I kicked him as hard as I could. I think I hurt him.”

  “I rather hope you did,” he said drily. “I was glad that you did not make a wish.” It had always been his experience with the coin that the wishes never worked out the way he expected them to.

  “I gathered as much. You were absolutely no help,” she snapped back. “He is fairly larger than I am. It's not as if I have a chance against him in hand-to-hand combat. I could have been killed while you waited out in the hall.”

  Kralc sniffed and walked around the tower. He grabbed a large bronze bowl and filled it with dark stones. Sitnalta watched him with interest as he commanded the centre stone in the floor to rise and become a pedestal. The wizard placed the bowl on top and grabbed a vial of silvery liquid from a pocket in his robe. He stroked his pointed beard and gazed into the vial, a pensive look on his face. He took a deep breath and emptied the contents into the bowl before conjuring a ball of fire in his hand and lighting both rock and liquid aflame.

  “Hand me the coin,” Kralc said. He held his hand out to Sitnalta expectantly.

  Sitnalta looked down at the coin she still held. It shone and sparkled in her palm. She marvelled at its beauty before looking back at Kralc. Seeing the almost hungry look in his eyes made her hesitate. She bit her bottom lip, looking from the wizard, back to the coin.

  “Well?” Kralc said, impatience sharpening the tone of the question.

  “You promised you wouldn't destroy it,” Sitnalta said.

  “I did.”

  “And you won't, will you?”

  “I won't.”

  Something about the way he said it, the way he seemed to put the emphasis on the word I gave her pause, but she bit back her fears and handed Kralc the coin.

  “Finally,” the wizard breathed. His face held a triumphant expression as he held the coin in his hand. He grinned manically as he cast it into the flame.

  Sitnalta watched it spin through the air before landing in the bowl, and she ran forward, expecting to see some magic being done as Wilhelm's wish was unmade. Instead, Sitnalta watched in horror as she saw the coin glow red and begin to melt in the heat.

  “No!” the Princess cried. “You promised!”

  “I'm not destroying it,” Kralc shot back. “The fire is doing an admirable job for me.”

  Sitnalta felt a rising panic as she looked into the fire. She thought of Najort, of Navor's smiling face, of the pain of losing him forever. With a shriek of rage, she reached her hand into the bowl of flame and closed her fingers around the molten coin. She bit back her tears as she felt the gold burning her hand. She screamed as the pain travelled up her arm. She had never felt anything like it. She could hear Kralc yelling for her to stop. Through eyes scrunched up in agony, she saw him running towards her, and as the pain caused her to lose consciousness, she made a wish. Once more, the world went dark.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Confrontation

  Sitnalta opened her eyes to find herself lying on a pile of leaves. Above her, she could dimly see the gently sloping rock roof of a cave and she smiled to herself. It had worked. The coin still worked. She had succeeded. She heard someone moving about behind her and strained to see who it was. She looked down at her hand to see if she was still holding the coin, and winced as even twitching her fingers caused her to see stars. She managed to catch a glimpse of it and was surprised to see that it had been dressed with linen bandages.

  “Navor?” she called out. “Ipsinki? Who's there?” She needed to talk to someone.

  She heard the footsteps shuffle closer, and she struggled to pull herself into a seated position.

  “Don't strain,” a voice said.

  Sitnalta looked around to see Josiah standing close to her. He looked concerned and she was confused by all that was happening.

  “What's going on?” she asked.

  “You appeared out of nowhere, your hand badly burned. I tended to you as best I could, but I'm no healer. Where did you come from? Who are you?” Josiah asked.

  She heard hoofbeats, and the sound of men arguing outside, and she sighed. Her wish had worked. She thought for a moment, considering using the coin once more to heal her hand and bring back her looks, but thought against it, not wishing to tempt fate. She smiled, pleased to be back, and put the coin into the pocket of her apron. She ignored the Captain's questions and pushed past him to run outside, ignoring the throbbing pain in her hand.

  She saw Navor talking animatedly to a few soldiers and called out to him.

  “Sitnalta!” Navor shouted as he saw a figure step out into the sunlight.

  She ran to him, then saw him stop in confusion as he took in her brown hair, grey eyes, and altered complexion.

  “It's really me,
” she assured him with a laugh.

  Not caring who was around, he bolted forward and swept her into his arms, kissing her soundly.

  Sitnalta heard both Aud and Gerald let out exclamations of shock, as she let Navor kiss her, before gently pushing him away. She looked at him for a moment, realizing what his existence meant.

  “You,” she said in awe. “You're here.”

  “Of course I'm here,” he said in confusion. “Where else would I be? I'm more confused that you're here. When I last saw you, you were fighting Wilhelm. Then Kralc grabbed you and you disappeared. What happened? I was so scared that we'd lost you.” He fingered a lock of her hair. “And please explain this!”

  “What's the matter? Don't you like it?” She laughed once more at the Prince's sputtered attempt to back himself out of the corner.

  “That’s not it,” Navor said. “It’s just that...this isn’t permanent, is it?”

  “It was Kralc who did this,” Sitnalta said. She saw the concern on the Prince’s face. “He took me away and used me to grab the coin from where Wilhelm had hidden it. I helped him only after he promised that he wouldn't destroy it. He lied to me! I watched him throw it into a magical fire. He was going to kill you!”

  Navor could see that the Princess was getting worked up. He took her hands in his and looked into her eyes. “I'm still here,” he said. “It clearly didn't work.”

  “But it would have!” Sitnalta insisted. “I reached into the fire and pulled it out.” She showed him the bandage on her hand.

  Aud saw and rushed forward. “What did you do?” she said.

  “And you wished yourself here,” Navor interrupted with a frown. “That explains why Josiah found you in the woods. You were lying in a heap.”

  “I did,” Sitnalta said. “It was an accident. I acted without thinking.”

  “Well, I'm glad it worked,” Navor said.

  “This time anyway,” Sitnalta said. “It was only a small wish. I can't keep risking things. Who knows what could go wrong.”

  Navor nodded in agreement. “I know.”

  Sitnalta got a good look at Navor's face and saw his black eye, and the bruising along his jawline. “You're hurt!” she exclaimed.

  Navor shrugged it off. “It'll heal. I'm just glad you're okay.” He took her bandaged hand, concern filling his eyes as he saw her wince in pain. “Are you okay?”

  “It'll heal,” she said with a small smile.

  “Let me take you to one of the men,” Navor said. “Let Josiah have a look at it. I’d trust him with this.”

  “I'm fine,” the Princess insisted.

  “Please,” Aud said. “Listen to him, if only to make us feel better.”

  Sitnalta looked around at the circle of faces around her. She felt infinitely better seeing Aud, Gerald, Navor, Ipsinki, and Frederic all alive and well. “Okay,” she said, allowing Navor to take her away.

  Soon Sitnalta was sitting on a stump, trying not to show how much pain she was in as Josiah gingerly unwrapped the linen dressing around her hand.

  “I'm not a healer,” he said apologetically. “However, I have been in my fair share of fights, and I do know something about treating wounds. If I hurt you, please let me know.”

  “It's not you,” she assured him. “Everything hurts it. You did a good job wrapping it before. Can't we just leave it?” She winced as her hand was jostled.

  “Unfortunately, that's the nature of burns.” He got to the last bit of bandaging. “I'll do my best to be gentle.”

  Sitnalta tried not to look as he exposed her hand to the light, but curiosity got the better of her as he turned her hand over to look at the palm. She cringed as she saw what she had done to herself. Her fingers were red and raw, and she could see blisters had formed, but the actual palm of her hand looked terrible. The skin was red and weeping, and she could plainly make out the imprint of the coin seared into her skin. If she looked closely, she could make out the stars that had been engraved in the metal, standing out in relief across her hand.

  Josiah let out low whistle. “I have a salve that will soothe the pain,” he said. “But I'm afraid that's going to leave a scar.”

  Sitnalta tried to let out a laugh, but it came out sounding more like a sob. “It's a good thing I like gloves.”

  Josiah smiled at the Princess's attempt to lighten the mood. “I'll be right back.”

  Sitnalta watched him go, and turned to Navor. “Is it as bad as I think it is?”

  Navor looked at her hand and felt his breath hitch in his throat. “No,” he said quickly. “It doesn't look that bad at all.”

  “You're a terrible liar. I appreciate the attempt though.”

  Josiah returned and gently spread a minty smelling salve across the burns on Sitnalta's hand. She began to breathe easier as she felt the cooling sensation spread across her skin, causing the pain to recede. He redressed the wounds with clean bandages and smiled at her.

  “How does that feel?” he asked.

  “Much better. Thank you.”

  “Just try to keep it clean, and I will check on it again in a couple of hours,” he said as he rose to go.

  “I will,” she promised.

  Navor waited until he left before he took the captain's seat. “I still don't understand why you don't just wish the burns away.”

  “I don't know,” Sitnalta said hesitantly. “I don't want to use the coin at all. I have a bad feeling. I don't want Kralc to sense it.”

  “Do you think he can?” Navor asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

  “He seemed to know exactly in which room it was in the castle,” she said. “He knew it even though he couldn't get close enough to take it. I think it gives off a sort of power that he can feel. I don't want to do anything that would bring him to us.”

  “That seems reasonable,” Navor conceded. “Although I hate seeing you in pain.”

  “It will heal,” she assured him. “I appreciate your concern, but it will get better.”

  “I know.” He rose and offered her his arm. “We should get back to Aud and Gerald. I'm sure they have a million questions for you.”

  Sitnalta smiled up at him and took his arm with her good hand. Together they walked back to the middle of camp.

  * * *

  Kralc raged in his tower. He couldn't believe the audacity of the Princess. He had felt a shock like no other when she had reached into his fire and plucked out the coin. Then she had disappeared. He thought he'd be able to sense where she had gone, but she was nowhere, as far as he knew. He had been so close to finally ending things, and she had interfered. He knew as soon as he had created it that the coin had been a colossal mistake. He had left it with the troll for safe keeping while he searched for a way to destroy it. It had taken years to find a substance powerful enough to do what had to be done, and the Princess had ruined everything.

  He paced, seething, in his tower while he mulled over the problem. Some things had no right to exist as far as Kralc was concerned, and that coin was one of those things. He needed to find it before someone even worse than Wilhelm did. He thought about Sitnalta. If he were her, where would he go? He would want to be with people he could trust. He would want to be someplace safe. Someplace that felt like home. A slow smile spread across his thin lips.

  He knew exactly where she was.

  * * *

  Wilhelm stormed through the castle. He couldn't believe the nerve of that girl! She had taken his coin! The one thing that had given him power, and now it was gone. He was livid. He needed answers. He needed her found. He ruminated over his problem, and a light went off in his head. He grinned and turned to run down to the dungeon.

  In his cell, Supmylo slept. He dreamed dreams filled with vengeance for his position. He knew that he would one day have it. He just hoped that that day would come soon.

  A pounding on the door of his cell jolted him out of his sleep and he opened his eyes in irritation.

  “
What do you want?” he hissed at the man at his door.

  “Is that any way to greet your King?” Wilhelm asked. “I am here to offer you a pardon.”

  Supmylo grinned up at the man. “Oh really? To what do I owe this honour?”

  “Answer my questions truthfully, take me where I want to go, and it's yours,” Wilhelm said.

  Supmylo pretended to give the matter much scrutiny before nodding in agreement. He was willing to do just about anything to get out of his cell.

  “What do you know of the coin that was kept locked in the deepest of the vaults here in this castle?” Wilhelm asked.

  “Only what the guards gossiped about,” Supmylo answered with a frown.

  “And what did they say?”

  “That it had some magic qualities to it. One said it granted wishes,” Supmylo snorted in derision. “But I don't put stock in fairy stories.”

  “Of course not,” Wilhelm said. He chuckled to himself. If Supmylo was speaking true, then he had nothing to worry about when it came time to retrieve the coin. “Who else knew of the coin?”

  “Aside from the men who guarded it and me? Just Gerald, his peasant wife, and my brat, Sitnalta.”

  Wilhelm frowned as he thought about the Princess. He remembered the look on her face atop the gallows. His eyes widened as he realized that that expression was the very same as the one on the girl he had caught in his study.

  Supmylo laughed as he took in the King's face when he mentioned his daughter's name. “Is this about her? Ha! She got you, too!”

  “Where would she go?” Wilhelm snarled. “If she fled the castle, where would she go?”

  Supmylo rose and walked up to the King. “Give me clean clothes, a horse, and a sword and I will lead you exactly to her.”