The young man’s face tightened, and he shot a quick look around to see if anyone was listening. “How did you know that?” he hissed.
“It doesn’t matter. I bet it must have cost them a lot to get you this job. Do your co-workers know where you come from? They don’t, do they? I wonder what they would say if they found out.”
The door behind him opened and a young woman in an identical jumpsuit entered.
“Are you Drake Sharazi?”
Drake allowed his gaze to linger on the man for a moment longer before turning. “Yes. That’s me.”
“Captain Mortimer has asked me to see to your needs while you are staying here.”
At the mere mention of the captain of the royal guard, the reception clerk’s eyes shot wide and beads of sweat formed on his brow.
“Please tell Xavier thank you, when you see him,” Drake said to the woman.
She nodded and then gestured for him to follow. Before doing so, Drake leaned down to whisper in the young man’s ear. “Perhaps you should be careful of how you treat people in the future. You never know who you’re talking to. Or who they might have connections to.”
The young man nodded, but made no attempt at a reply.
Drake followed the woman through the door into a long hallway. Doors lined both walls at regular intervals, each one bearing a number. Offices, most likely, he thought. He was familiar with this sort of facility. They were used to house those with entry passes from the provinces, as well as lower level officials from the upper city who had extended business.
They entered the elevator at the end of the hall and rode it up to the top floor. His apartment was just a short walk away.
“Do you know how to use a mana lock?” the woman asked, upon reaching the door.
Drake nodded confirmation and then placed his hand fully over the knob. It responded by glowing brightly, at the same time sending a mild shock running up his arm. A sharp clack after a few seconds indicated that the lock had made the connection.
“Everything you will need should already be here for you,” his escort said. “I’ll return later to check if there’s anything further you require.”
Drake watched as she walked briskly back to the lift. A true bureaucrat, he told himself. The kind who moves up quickly. Efficient and cold. If she did in reality look down on him for being from the provinces, she would never display even the smallest hint of this. In fact, he doubted that she ever let any feelings whatsoever show through.
The apartment was very nice by provincial standards: two bedrooms, a small kitchen, and a comfortable living room. The furnishings were all new and of good quality; there was even a holoviewer hanging on the wall opposite the sofa for his entertainment.
After tossing his duffle bag into the bedroom, an exploration of the various closets and cabinets turned up a good supply of both food and fresh clothing. The pants and shirts were of common style – t-shirts mostly, together with simple denim trousers – but they were a damn sight better than the rags he was currently wearing. It was really a bit surprising that Xavier would think to provide him with such amenities. But of course, Xavier always had his own motives. Drake seriously doubted that any of it was done from kindness.
He stripped off his clothes and jumped in the shower, letting out a long moan of pleasure as the steaming hot water poured over his body. This was yet another of those apparently simple pleasures that he had missed so much. He hadn’t felt this clean in nine years and could have stayed there luxuriating in the feeling for hours. Eventually, though, the rumbling in his stomach urged him to finish and get dressed. Even the fresh clothes he selected felt good – clean in a way that he had almost completely forgotten.
He turned on the holoviewer, bringing an image of the upper city garden to the screen. Carefully, he eased a slider at the bottom of the viewer to the left, continuing like this until he heard a familiar tune coming from the speakers. The screen was now filled with swirls of light and color, dancing to the beat of the song while creating random patterns and shapes. Before he even realized it, he was smiling.
“Don’t get too used to this life,” he scolded himself, settling down into an armchair. All the same, he couldn’t help but enjoy it. Even if it was only temporary.
As it turned out, his pleasure was destined to be even more short-lived than he’d anticipated. Shattering the moment, the apartment door was suddenly thrown back noisily on its hinges.
Instinctively, Drake leaped to his feet and started to run toward the bedroom, where his P37 and sword were lying on the bed. But a sight of the black uniforms of the royal guard halted him mid-stride. Six men filed inside, one of them instantly recognizable. Gerard Vernon, a corporal when Drake had been exiled, now bore the insignia of a sergeant. An ill-tempered man even on his best days, Vernon barked out an order. In response, his men spread out and began searching the apartment.
“Good to see you again, Gerard,” Drake said, smiling.
Vernon sneered. “Face the wall and place your hands on your head.”
“I only just got here. What’s this all about?”
Drake’s tormentor stepped in close until their noses were almost touching. “Give me a reason, exile. I’m begging you.”
“Take it easy, sergeant,” he told him, still maintaining his friendly smile. “I’m going.” He turned and did as instructed.
Vernon frisked him thoroughly – and roughly – and then shoved him flat up against the wall. “Don’t move from there until I tell you.”
“Weapons in the bedroom,” called a voice.
“Secure them in the hall,” Vernon responded.
After a few minutes, Drake heard the men leaving. Then a different voice spoke.
“You can go too, sergeant. I’ll speak to him privately.”
Drake felt as if a cold spear had been shoved through his gullet. Though he knew very well to whom the voice belonged, he could still scarcely believe he was hearing it. When the door closed following Vernon’s exit, he found himself unable to move.
The voice spoke again. “Please. Turn around and let me see your face.”
Very slowly, Drake did as requested, eyes downcast and head bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Look at me.”
Waves of conflicting emotions tore through him until he was no longer able to distinguish anger from love nor hate from sorrow. He raised his head. The king looked just as he had the last time he’d seen him. Silver hair with streaks of jet black flowed down to his broad shoulders, held back from his brow by a gold circlet. His careworn eyes and fatherly smile brought tears pouring down Drake’s cheeks. In the monarch’s right hand was a crystal staff crowned with a golden lion. A walking stick, he often called it. But it was far more than that – it was a mana weapon of such enormous power that it made Drake’s P37 look like a child’s toy. With this in his possession, the king hardly needed the protection of the royal guard. He wore a purple satin robe with silver trim and stitching over a silver shirt and black pants. His hands were adorned with rings beset with diamonds and emeralds, and a medallion of pure gold with the Lion of Troi in blood rubies hung from a gold chain around his neck. He was a tiny bit more bent than Drake remembered – though otherwise he seemed not to have aged a day.
“I never dreamed I would see you again,” the king said.
Drake wanted to speak, but feared his tears would turn into open sobs.
Nedar sighed and placed his hand on Drake’s shoulder. “I know you must hate me for what happened. I wish things could have been different. I hope you believe that.”
Drake took a moment to compose himself before finally speaking. “I don’t blame you, Your Majesty. You did the only thing you could do.”
“I wanted to do more. But the evidence…”
“I understand, Your Majesty.”
“Do you? Because I don’t. Scarcely a day goes by when I don’t think about it, asking myself how it was done…and who would do it.”
“You shouldn’t tr
ouble yourself, Your Majesty. That you believe me to be innocent is all I ever wanted.”
“Well, I wanted more for you. And I know I have no right to ask anything of you.” Now it was the king’s turn to shed tears. “They have taken my son, Drake. You have to get him back for me.”
“I will try, Your Majesty. I will do my very best. You have my word.”
The king gave him a fragile smile. “That is what I always admired about you. Most men would say without hesitation that they would get him back. They would say so as if their success were assured. But not you. You always tell me the truth. That is why I never doubted your innocence. And why it was so hard for me to send you away.”
“I would never lie to you, Your Majesty. Just as you have never lied to me. And there is one thing you can be certain of: whoever has done this, I will make them pay for it. Even if it takes me the rest of my life to find them.”
The king nodded. “Yes. I know you will. And you will be amply rewarded for my son’s safe return.” He gave a small sigh. “I’m afraid I cannot bring you into the upper city. That would cause an outright feud, and the last thing I want is for the high mages to become involved. However, I will ensure that you are given a place here. You will also be provided with everything you could ever need to make your life as comfortable as possible. That is my word.”
It was all Drake could do to remain standing. He had fantasized about this moment for nine long years. Even after all hope had deserted him, it still managed to plague his dreams. And now it was happening. It was actually happening. “Thank…thank you, Your Majesty.”
“I dearly wish I could stay longer,” the king told him. “I do miss our talks very much.”
“As do I, Your Majesty.” Drake bowed low. “Thank you for coming to see me.”
“My boy. You never need to thank me for anything.” He gave Drake’s arm a fond squeeze before turning to the door, and then paused before opening it. “One more thing. When you see Salazar, please tell him that I understand why he did what he did. Also, that he is forgiven.”
“Your Majesty?”
“He will know what I mean.”
After the king had left the apartment, Vernon tossed Drake’s weapons carelessly back inside. He could only stand there staring at the floor for the next fifteen minutes. Though he would not have said so to the king, he would succeed in his mission. That was the solemn promise he now made to himself.
For the rest of the evening he sat in the dark, listening to music from the holoviewer. He did his best to clear his mind, but the memories of his past would not be denied, forcing their way in like unwelcome guests: thoughts of his carefree days wandering the halls of upper Troi with the prince; the stern face of the king when they’d been caught causing mischief that always concealed a forgiving smile; but mostly his time with Lenora. As much as he tried to put her out of his mind, he couldn’t. Just being in Troi again was enough, knowing that she was somewhere above him. So very close, and yet unreachable. It was maddening.
The young woman who had shown him to the apartment returned briefly, but Drake politely dismissed her. There was nothing more he needed. When he had first arrived, he’d considered taking a long walk around the city. Now, though, since speaking with King Nedar, all he wanted to do was to leave Troi and his memories and get on with his quest of searching for Prince Salazar.
He eventually went to bed. Sleep, however, proved elusive. Several times he got up and just wandered about the apartment looking in the various drawers and cabinets, even though he already knew perfectly well what was in them.
One question was constantly on his mind: how long would he have to wait before setting off? Not long, was his guess. He doubted Xavier was very happy that they had sought him out for the task; he was sure to have his own people out searching for the prince as well. But if the kidnappers were from the provinces, they would see Troians coming a mile away.
He was on yet another of his nocturnal wanderings when a soft, almost inaudible tap sounded at the front door. Hurrying back to the bedroom, Drake snatched up his P37 just as the door eased open. He leveled the weapon. Whoever this was, they were able to bypass a mana lock. That made them dangerous. From the moment he had touched the doorknob, the mechanism had linked itself uniquely to him. Only someone with magical ability could now bypass that security measure. A sinking thought then occurred as the door swung completely open – if this was a royal guard, they sure as hell were not going to like having a weapon shoved in their face. Well, then they shouldn’t sneak in like this.
The instantly recognizable silhouette in the doorway and the scent of perfume had him quickly lowering his gun and stepping back several paces. He had been prepared for just about anything. Anything but this.
“Hello, Drake.” Her voice was soft and musical. Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her.
He was utterly stunned. Seeing the king had been difficult enough. This…was unbearable.
“Lenora,” he whispered.
“I wasn’t sure if I should come. I didn’t know if you would want to see me.”
Drake’s mind was reeling. Seeing her a little more clearly as she moved into the light coming through the window, he felt a violent ache strike his heart. She was every bit as beautiful as he remembered. Even more so, in fact. Her delicate features had not aged a day, and her slender frame still glided effortlessly as if she were walking upon a cushion of pure mana. Raven hair cascaded in loose glossy curls over her shoulders and halfway down her back. Then there was her most memorable feature of all – even in the dim light, he could still clearly see the ice blue eyes that had once so powerfully captured his heart.
“Of course I wanted to see you. I just thought…” He felt dizzy and could hardly get the words out. “I thought you would hate me.”
“I did. For a long time. But then I came to realize that you were right. If I had come with you, they would never have stopped hunting us. They would have killed you. Instead, here you are now, standing right in front of me.”
The image of her face, the sorrow in her eyes, and the harshness of her words had never left him. She had desperately wanted to go with him into exile – to abandon her life in Troi. In a weak moment he had almost agreed to this. But he’d quickly come to realize that it could never be. She was the daughter of the king. Their love had been forbidden. Should she have run away, the whole of Vale would have been relentlessly upended. There would have been absolutely nowhere for them to hide.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said.
Her smile was sweet yet somehow distant. “No. It was I who hurt you. I was angry when I last saw you. I’ve since spent nine years regretting every word.”
He offered her a seat on the sofa, but she shook her head.
“I cannot stay. I just had to see you at least one time before you left.”
Drake suddenly realized that he was standing there in nothing but a pair of cotton pants. He reached for a shirt he had thrown over the arm of a chair. “I…I’m glad you came.”
While pulling the shirt over his head, he felt her soft touch on his shoulder.
“You’re injured.”
He’d forgotten about the bullet that had struck him in the garage. “It’s nothing,” he told her. “Just a bruise.” He pulled his shirt down and stepped away.
“Don’t be silly.” She moved closer and placed her hand on the wound.
Drake closed his eyes, her touch instantly reminding him of the times he had held her in his arms and the gentle warmth of her breath on his neck as they’d lain together in the garden gazing up at the splendor of Troi.
The memory faded as the cold tingle of healing magic penetrated his flesh, sending waves of energy pouring into every inch of his body. Only a very few people had a true gift for healing; Lenora was one of them. He had seen her bring people back from the very brink of death with nothing more than a simple touch.
When she removed her hand, a soft sigh of relief escaped his lips. He heard her laugh
ing, like silver chimes playing a sweet melody.
“Better?
He opened his eyes and saw her smiling at him. “Much better. Thank you.”
“I have to go now. If my father finds out I came here…” She hesitated, clearly embarrassed to elaborate on this. “Well, you know how things are.”
“It’s fine. I understand. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I think I’m already in trouble. And if I don’t leave now, I’ll be in even more.”
She started toward the door. “You know, I was so happy when I found out it was you they had called upon to rescue my brother.”
“I won’t stop until I find him,” he assured her.
“I know that. But the shame of it is, the thought of his rescue was not why I was happy. Not really. It was that it meant you would be returning to Troi.”
Without another word, she turned and left. Drake wanted to chase after her. He wanted to tell her of all the things that had built up in his heart for nine long years. Most of all, he wanted to hold her in his arms again and tell her how much he loved her. But that wasn’t possible. So, instead, he just plopped down on the couch and gazed blankly out of the window until the scent of her perfume had finally faded away. The apartment now felt like a prison, and the morning could not arrive soon enough.
He was coming, and whoever had taken Prince Salazar had better damn well pray with all their heart that he still lived.
Chapter Five
“Wake up.”
Drake felt a firm hand shaking his shoulder. He groaned. What time was it? Peeling open one eye, he saw Xavier standing over him with a glass of ice water in his hand. He was grinning impishly.
“I don’t care who you think you are,” Drake warned. “Pour that over me and I’ll smash your teeth out.”
Xavier merely laughed. “A mighty threat from a tiny man. Now come on – get up. You have much to do today before you leave.” He held out the glass. “I thought I remembered you being an early riser.”
The Vale: Behind The Vale Page 5
