Sword of Storms

by Tara Brown

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “A chronicle of the time of the Great War, written by a poet.”

  “Poetry,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Perhaps you should read it and let me know what you find.” She moved to get up, but he grabbed her hand, holding it so the scar was visible as he delicately opened the cover, causing the dust in the air to move. He pinched the bottoms of the fine pages, hardly touching them as he flipped through them.

  Lenny’s hand started to sweat as he held it and examined for whatever it was he sought out.

  “There!” he exclaimed loudly, proud of his discovery. And he was right. The marking of the gemstone in the book matched her hand identically. She scanned the old page, not recognizing a single word but in the middle of the page was a drawing of the blue stone.

  “What is it?”

  “A stone one would carve and enchant to hold magic. Exactly like you described. This is in elvish, the high elves of the Cerne Mountains to be specific. It’s Endorean. A dead language as far as men are concerned,” he spoke softly, almost to himself.

  “The magic is put into the stone?” Lenny recalled the swirling dark clouds. She’d forgotten to tell him that part.

  “Indeed. It’s placed there, stored. Dark magic used to be hidden this way. Tucked away in a safe place so the conjurer could appear pure and not waste precious time rebuilding their strength in the dark arts. They could simply reclaim the potent magic from the stone at full strength and cast with it. Placing the darkness back into the stone when they were done. No dark mark.”

  “The dark mark that appears on the fingertips you mean?” Lenny glanced at her fingers.

  “Indeed. You saw this on both the dead woman and your friend’s mother?”

  She nodded, desperate to keep this part to herself but knew it was likely important. “And on my hand after I shot lightning at her.” She held the hand up for him to see. “But it vanished when I made a dome of protection.”

  “Light can cure most dark magic, but some crimes cannot be washed away. The ashy mark remains even after the purest magic is used if the hate is too intense. A dark witch, who meddled in the arts of death, would never wash her skin clean of the stain, but she might hide it.” His eyes widened and Lenny could almost see an image conjured by his words.

  “The stone would absorb the hate and evil, washing them clean?”

  “Yes, but the magic remains there, hidden. There’s no getting rid of it.” He furrowed his heavy brow. “You said after you touched the stone it went dull. Could it be you sucked the magic from it?”

  “I suppose, yes.” Her stomach tightened.

  “You might have had the right type of magic to unleash the darkness.” His eyes narrowed again as he contemplated.

  “Right type?”

  “Magic is similar to a crest or a seal, it’s specific to the family. The person who sealed the magic into the stone would have to be related to you for you to be the one to release it.” He sighed. “Leave me now, let me spend more time on this.” He shooed her away. “Come and see me tomorrow.”

  “Any time in particular?” Lenny asked as she walked away patting her leg, but the brother was already lost in his thoughts. Ollie and Scar got up and followed her from the library.

  She tried to find her way back to the main hallway where she knew how to get to her suite, but she had forgotten what color the picture frames ought to be.

  Defeated, she followed her nose, hunting down the kitchens and a member of staff who was walking from a long, dark hallway.

  “Can you tell me how to find the suites Lady Hilde and Lady Elsie are staying in? I’m lost.” Lenny winced.

  “Lost?” the red-faced and sweaty older woman gasped. “My arse. You young lads think you’re so smart. You think I haven’t seen Lady Hilde? You’re not pulling the wool over my eyes. I am quite aware of what you’re up to. And I won’t have any of it—”

  “I’m Lenny, Lady Hilde’s sister.” Lenny shrank.

  “You’re who?” The chubby woman’s face jiggled as she laughed but kept walking toward another doorway, her apron covered in white dust. “And I suppose those are the royal hounds then?”

  “They’re royal enough, Mrs. Olander,” Lord Ivor said with his smug grin as he happened upon them. “I see you have met Lenny.”

  “Lenny?” Mrs. Olander scowled, turning from Lenny to Lord Ivor.

  “Lady Ilenia,” he corrected himself. “Though she would never allow any of us to treat her as a lady.” He sauntered forward, his hand out. “And Lenny, this is dear Mrs. Olander, one of my favorite cooks. Bakes cakes that will convince you of the existence of the gods.”

  “Buttering me up never got you anywhere, milord.” Mrs. Olander laughed bitterly.

  “It certainly did.” He smiled charmingly, making Mrs. Olander soften.

  “All right it did.” She laughed harder but the kindness she exuded didn’t extend to Lenny. “And might I ask what you’re up to or why you’re letting this lad with his savage hounds roam the castle under the guise of being a lady?”

  Lenny’s cheeks reddened.

  “I’m not!”

  “You’re always up to something, spill!” She lifted a finger at him.

  “This is Lady Hilde’s sister, Lady Ilenia. The dogs are Ollie and Scar. And she is genuinely the queen’s niece. I swear on my life and honor as a gentleman.” Lord Ivor lifted his hands earnestly. “Surely, you recall Lady Elsie, the queen’s best friend—”

  “I’m not daft, you have no honor. And I know Lady Elsie is here with her daughters.” She lifted an eyebrow at Lenny. “I’ve got my eyes on you two.” She focused on the hounds. “And you two as well.”

  Lord Ivor chuckled. “Good day, fair maiden of the pastries.”

  “I’ve made cherry scones if ya want one,” she called from the hallway as she disappeared again. “If you’re fast enough to get it before I see,” her voice echoed from the darkness.

  “And that is why you wear a dress and put your hair in pretty curls.” Lord Ivor turned holding a hand out. “Shall we?”

  “Thanks for coming to find me.”

  “I have asked the guards and staff to keep an eye out for you. I suspected this would happen.”

  Lenny nodded, wishing she could argue that she blended. But the hounds the size of ponies were just the start of the issues.

  She followed him back to her rooms, smiling politely when he kissed her hand, wishing it were a little cleaner.

  It might have been the first time the thought ever crossed her mind.

  “And I shall leave you here.” His eyes dazzled with delight. “To tell your mother of my intentions. You have until tomorrow, then I tell her myself.” He winked and sauntered off, leaving Lenny with conflicted feelings.

  It was all too much.

  Scar cocked her head, giving Lenny a confused stare, to which Lenny sighed. “Indeed.” And walked into the suite.

  It was time to admit the truth.

  Maybe all the truths.

  Chapter 5

  “Lord Ivor asked to court me,” Lenny whispered to the mirror. She was too excited in the delivery that time. She needed a much more unaffected tone so her mother wouldn’t act like a madwoman. “Lord Ivor has requested to court me.” She wrinkled her nose.

  “Lenny!” Mildred shouted shrilly. “There’s a man here who doesn’t speak.”

  Lenny and the hounds hurried out of her room to the main area of the suite. Mildred gave the brother waiting to take Lenny to Brother Estevan a sneer.

  “Your mother wants you to dress up later to take a turn about the gardens and have tea with the queen.” She plucked at Lenny’s tunic. “You are not permitted to wear anything of Wilfred’s.” The disdain in her tone made Lenny want to slap her, but the brother watching meant there would be a witness. And Lenny only enjoyed tormenting Mildred with no witnesses.

  “I’m busy today,” Lenny offered rudely and left with the brother, her hounds on her heels. “Lead the way, s
ir.”

  He smiled and bowed which she offered back. He hurried through the halls, not stopping to appreciate the finery or elegance surrounding them.

  “Do you ever pause and take a moment to appreciate the splendor of this place?” Lenny asked as they passed a particularly beautiful painting.

  The brother nodded, still hurrying. His smile suggested his pause wasn’t quite what Lenny might have done.

  “It’s fairly impressive. They even painted the ceilings. Though I can’t imagine how one would get up there to paint. You’d have a terrible crick in the back and neck.” She was nattering nervously, so she pressed her mouth together and followed him to the large doors of the library. He held a hand out, bowing again.

  “Thank you.” She bowed back. Ollie and Scar hurried in, sniffing as they had the day before.

  “Oh good. You’re here,” Brother Estevan said without turning or standing up from the scroll he was reading bent over at a small table. “Sit.”

  Scar sat and Ollie lay down. Lenny took a few steps over to the scroll, inspecting it as if she might be able to read it.

  She watched him silently working, wondering why he had called for her if he wasn’t going to speak.

  Before he said anything useful, they were interrupted.

  “Brother, the queen has sent for you!” a man shouted, running as fast as he could into the library. His footsteps were almost as loud as his shouting. “We must hurry! At once!”

  “Is everything all right?” Lenny asked as she jumped up.

  “I’m afraid not.” The man shook his head.

  “Should I come?”

  “Please.” He turned and ran off, leaving her and Brother Estevan staring at one another.

  “Go ahead, Lenny. I’ll catch up!” Brother Estevan said as he rolled the scroll carefully and put it in a glass case. Lenny and the dogs turned, running out of the library after the man who rushed down the hall, winded but not stopping.

  “What has happened?” Lenny asked when she caught up to him.

  “I don’t know, milady. The king has collapsed!” He raced for the stairs, then turned for the courtyard. A crowd had gathered but it parted for the man who brought Lenny forth. The queen was kneeling over a man, hitting him in the chest with both hands. He was on his back, not moving or making a sound.

  Lenny’s mother grabbed her, pulling her in tightly.

  Lenny’s eyes widened when she saw the queen hit the king again, sobbing over him. She continued to beat her hands over his chest, lost in a rage.

  “He just collapsed,” Hilde whispered so softly Lenny barely made out her words. “Like he was struck by lightning, frozen for a moment before he collapsed and twitched. So strange. Mother said, ‘If not for bad luck, we might not have any.’”

  The words gave Lenny the strangest inkling. She pulled out the necklace she’d been given in Wetwood Harbor from her pocket and wrapped it around Hilde’s wrist several times, making a bracelet. She closed the clasp as Hilde stared at it, wrinkling her nose at the ugly trinket.

  “No matter what, don’t take that off,” Lenny whispered.

  Aunt Mildred made eye contact with Lenny, narrowing her gaze suspiciously at the bracelet.

  “Could it be a fit of the heart?” Lenny asked as Scar sat next to her obediently while Ollie fought the temptation to inch forward more, but his obvious nudging gave his curiosity away.

  “Perhaps,” Hilde agreed.

  The sisters gripped one another, their mother’s arms draping over them, pulling them into her.

  Mildred leaned in closer, snuggling into the embrace with Elsie and the girls.

  It was a terrible sight but familiar to Lenny. She was certain she had appeared this way many times over the past month. She could taste the pain and the sorrow running down the queen’s cheeks. She knew it too well.

  Prince Landon took a moment but managed to get to his knees, holding his weeping mother, pulling her from his father. She crumpled into him, her anger and fear turning to defeat. The young prince closed his eyes as tears streamed his ashen cheeks.

  Lord Ivor emerged from the crowd, his eyes growing wide in shock. He searched the crowd for Lenny. They stared at one another for several heartbeats before he wrapped himself around the queen, eventually getting her up.

  Brother Estevan arrived, gasping for air but kneeling at the king’s side next to the prince. He listened and touched him briefly before he lifted his gaze to Lenny. He stared at her as if she might know what he wanted.

  She moved forward, drawn by him.

  “Everyone must leave!” he shouted.

  “Brother—”

  “I’m sorry, Prince, you as well.” He dismissed Prince Landon. The guards helped him to stand then began clearing the courtyard, forcing everyone to leave. Hilde hurried to the prince’s side, assisting him as the brother pointed at Lenny. “You stay, everyone else must go. Now!”

  “Lenny?” her mother asked.

  “I’ll be all right,” Lenny lied but hoped she might be telling the truth. She had been with Brother Estevan when it happened. There was no way she was linked to the death of the king.

  Her mother squeezed her hand once before following Mildred, Hilde, the prince, and the queen who was escorted by Lord Ivor.

  As the voices became farther away, Brother Estevan motioned for her to draw near, waving but not speaking.

  She moved closer, forcing herself to be next to the dead king and the strange old man.

  “Kneel,” he commanded.

  She obeyed, kneeling next to him.

  “Lift your hands in the air, close your eyes, feel for a spark. There is life around him, a flicker of spirit as he adjusts to being out of his body.” His words were quiet but aggressive.

  Lenny closed her eyes, scared and unsure of what to expect.

  “Lift your hands, child. Feel the air around you. The spark will zap you, jolt you. The air around it will be heavy.”

  She lifted her hands, feeling silly and certain this was a mistake.

  Her hands felt nothing, and she was certain she would get her into trouble for being dishonorable to the king’s body.

  The air felt warm and humid. There wasn’t a stitch of breath or breeze. Her calluses tightened as she forced her fingers to straighten.

  Her breath tickled the backs of her hands but that was it.

  She opened her eyes slowly and in the dimmed light of her lashes, she saw it. A flicker of blue light hanging in the air over the king.

  She closed her eyes a little, leaving just the slits that forced her to stare through her inky lashes. In the haze, the blue spark sat.

  She moved forward, noting the way the air did feel heavier. When the blue light was between her fingers it stung her, not painful but noticeable.

  “That’s it,” Brother Estevan whispered. “Ask him to show you what happened. Speak to him.”

  “King Elias, it’s Lenny Ailling, Your Grace.” She felt ridiculous. “Could you show me what happened to you?” She wondered if this was a joke before the sting of the blue light hit her finger again. This time the buzz didn’t end with a single touch, it went on, vibrating through her.

  Her head fell back, and her eyes opened. In the air above her face, she saw an image in blue mist. It was the king. He was walking in the courtyard, thinking perhaps.

  He heard a noise, a voice. He glanced around but there was nothing. The voice came again, drawing his stare to the rooftop next to him. A woman appeared. She called down lightning from the sky, killing him.

  Lenny gasped but the image played out.

  He grabbed his heart, clutching it.

  Another voice laughed, a man’s. He whispered something foul on the wind, an angry language Lenny didn’t recognize.

  But that wasn’t where Lenny’s focus was.

  She was too busy staring at Wen’s mother. She watched the king die and vanished, leaving nothing behind but a trail of dark smoke. Just as she had in Blockley.

  It dissipated as the sc
reams for help came.

  As the king fell, Lenny’s mouth closed and she lowered her eyes.

  “Did you see?” Brother Estevan asked.

  Lenny nodded, not sure what she saw. It was too bizarre to comprehend. “It was a witch.”

  “The same witch? Your friend’s mother?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, grateful Wen was safe in the ocean.

  “How did you know?” Lenny asked.

  “There’s a dark mark,” he said, pulling the king’s shirt to the side. His skin reminded Lenny of the sand in Blockley on the beach, where she had shot lightning.

  Confusion and fear took turns ruling her mind as she stared at the dark spot on his skin.

  Chapter 6

  “What do you mean, Prince Landon won’t be ascending to the throne immediately? How do you know that? Who is running the kingdom?” Aunt Mildred growled at the poor man delivering word that Lady Lenny and Lady Elsie’s presence had been requested on Pappelwhick Island. “Who will be king then? Where is the queen? Is she not preparing for the funeral?”

  Lenny lifted her gaze from the book she was staring at, not reading, just inspecting to avoid her mother and Aunt Mildred who had taken the death of the king quite hard. Scar joined her, glancing from Lenny to her mother to Mildred.

  “I don’t know, milady.” The poor man’s eyes flickered to Lenny’s mother. He pleaded to her silently with his stare. “All I can tell you is that you and Lady Ilenia have been requested on Pappelwhick Island. The queen is there with Prince Landon now. She said it was urgent. But just the two of you.” He rushed through the words, desperate to be on his way, “There’s a ship waiting at the docks for you. I’ve been instructed—”

  “But the king died yesterday. His funeral hasn’t even been organized! Why is the queen there and not here preparing?” Mildred was outraged and speaking irrationally to a servant, which seemed understandable to him. Either he was aware that death and disappointment seemed to lurk around every corner, and she was losing her grip on reality and proper decorum, or he was accustomed to being mistreated. “This is highly unusual!” Mildred was shrill.