I turned to the girl I had rescued. She was a little thing, barely thirteen years old. “What’s your name?” I asked gently.
“Rhea,” she said between sniffles.
“Would you like to come with us?” I inquired. “It would be safer for you until we find a way to get you back to your family.”
Rhea nodded.
I looked at the Prince of Nedora. “Rhea comes with us.”
“Of course,” he grinned, showing me his pristine white teeth. “I will have our best physicians tend to her back. She will be better in no time.”
I nodded my assent. “Thank you.”
Penelope’s eyes softened, and she took off her cloak and put it around the girl. “Come, Rhea, you are safe now.”
Rhea huddled under the warm blue cloak, which seemed to swallow up her small form.
Shiraz Detori called for palanquins to take us to the palace, and I got into one with Rhea, to make sure she was not scared. Tristan rode beside us on a proud chestnut stallion, brought over for him by one of the guards.
The dusky pink sky had turned to fiery gold as the sun made progress across the sky. I gazed out of my palanquin curtains at the hot dusty streets. Honey-colored sandstone houses with flat roofs spread out in a circle around the palace, all the way to the shores of the Sea of Shadows. Every little street and alley eventually led up to four main avenues that divided the city into districts.
The Detori guards whom I had seen all over the city walked beside us and behind the palanquins, their curved swords and hard looks a deterrent to any citizen who chose to come too close to the Detoris or those in their company. The subservience in this kingdom was to a far greater degree than I had seen in the western kingdoms.
For one thing, slavery had been abolished in Illiador and Eldoren many years ago. It was only in the eastern kingdom of Brandor that slavery was still practiced. In Sanria, the other big city on the western coast of Brandor, the slaves were better off than the ones I had seen here, but it was slavery all the same. I decided I would have a talk with Santino about getting the emirs to finally end slavery in Brandor as well.
As we passed the main market square, hunched women with baskets on their heads trudged beside us, while bearded men with heavy sacks laden with goods set up stalls for the day. Huge clay pots filled with fragrant spices lined the shaded area near a busy trader with a new supply of animal skins and leather goods. The smells of the market filled the palanquin as we passed, an unpleasant mix of dung, spices, and cooking meat.
Tall palm trees spread out sporadically through the city, providing inadequate shade to the hot, sweating citizens who traversed the dusty streets. The rest of the nobility moved around in palanquins and on horses, while camels were escorted into the city laden with wares for trade.
“Where are you from, Rhea? How did you end up as a slave?” I turned at the sound of Penelope’s voice.
“A few months ago, I was captured from my tribe in Rohron and brought here on a ship. It was horrible—days of never seeing land; hundreds of us crammed into the bowels of the ship. There was little food, and so many people died before we even got to Nedora.” Her sobs interrupted the story.
Penelope held her hand. Once she calmed down, she continued, “I was kept as a slave in Lord Berzaan’s house. He wanted . . .” Her breath hitched in her throat. “He wanted me to come to his bed. I had no other choice. That’s why I ran away.”
“That was a very brave thing to do.” I put my arm around her, my blood boiling. I remembered the smug face of the lavender-turbaned nobleman Berzaan and felt sick to my stomach at the degraded state of Brandorian society.
“I was caught by the guards. They were going to send me back when you found me.” She looked at me with such gratitude in her eyes I couldn’t help thinking about the others I couldn’t save. What must their lives be like with no hope of ever seeing their families again? What about the families who had lost their children? What hope was there for them?
“I was trying to get to a ship that would take me back to Rohron.” She shook her head and started to weep again. “My family has no idea what happened to me. I was visiting a friend when I was taken.”
I balled my hands into fists. “He will be punished for this. I will speak to Prince Shiraz.”
Penelope shook her head. “You cannot interfere any more than you already have, Aurora. We are lucky Prince Shiraz did not take offense from your actions. This is not the time to go around changing policies.”
“But—”
She held up her hand. “Let me finish. Once you are queen of Illiador, you will get the opportunity to change the world for the better. But until then you must think of the bigger picture. If anything happens to you, there will be no world left to change.”
I crossed my arms and stared out of the palanquin curtains. She was right, of course. My hands were tied. I had to get the Detoris to join us. Securing the way through Brandor for the fae army had to remain my first priority.
The Pink Palace
The palace of the Detori emir was a colossal monument, a testament to the power and wealth the emirs enjoyed while the rest of the city lived in poverty. The Detoris were even wealthier than the Valasis family, effectively controlling all the mines and trade routes in the eastern lands as well as the ships that traversed the Sea of Shadows.
The Pink Palace, as it was called, was famous in Brandor and beyond for the brushed pink sandstone from which it was made. The Detoris owned all the pink sandstone quarries in Brandor, along with gold, copper, jade, and iron mines.
Surrounded by a massive sandstone wall, the great golden domes of the palace could be seen from every rooftop in the city. Similar domes spread out over smaller buildings on a reduced scale, which made up the rest of the palace, accenting the great center dome.
The Pink Palace was beautiful and more ornately decorated than the Red Citadel in Sanria. The flooring was made of a rare pink marble, with shades of dusky rose veins slithering inside the stone like snakes. Massive jade pillars carved to look like palm trees held the immense domed ceiling of the entrance hall up. The ceiling itself was intricately carved with flowers made of shimmering rose quartz and leaves of jade set on a light mesh of pure gold. It was an ostentatious display of wealth, and I wondered how many slaves it must have taken to build this monstrosity.
Prince Shiraz led us through great silver doors to a courtyard with terraced lawns, shaded by towering cypress trees, where our rooms were situated. A light breeze drifted through the gardens, and the birds had awoken to fill the palace with song. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine flowers and frangipani as we navigated the garden paths to our rooms. Beautiful pavilions and lotus ponds graced the interior of the palace, creating a sprawling oasis within the hot dusty city of Nedora.
“I hope you will be comfortable here,” said Prince Shiraz, showing us around the suite of rooms that Penelope and I were to share. Great marble arches hung with soft muslin curtains led out to a private walled garden with a cascading fountain spouting fragrant rosewater.
Rhea had been taken to the infirmary to see to her wounds and would join us later. Tristan’s room was situated in another wing, as all the rooms in this part of the palace were reserved for women only.
After Prince Shiraz departed, crimson-veiled servants entered silently and drew a bath for me. I was eager for it. It had been a while since I had bathed properly, and the hot dusty streets of Nedora seemed to cover my skin with a layer of grime and sand that required a good scrubbing.
The bathing chamber was a bright room with big arched windows that looked onto a small private garden. A great white onyx sunken tub filled with rose petals lay in the center of the room, surrounded by luxurious silk cushions. I removed my clothes and waded into what was more of a pool than a tub. Rose oil had been added to the steaming water, and I washed myself from head to toe with the scented soaps and scrubs that lay beside the pool in small crystal bowls.
I felt much better after the ba
th and changed into the clothes the servants had left for me. They were similar to the clothes I had worn when I came here but made with a much more expensive fabric and bordered with exquisite gold embroidery on the short tunic and loose pants.
When I was ready, I met with Penelope in the common room. Tristan was already there waiting for us, and we tried to figure out how we would approach the emir when he returned to the palace. While we were discussing our next course of action, a servant came to our rooms to announce that Prince Shiraz had invited us for a private dinner in the magnificent inner terrace, which was reserved for the emir and his chosen guests.
I inquired about Rhea and when she would be joining us, but the servant did not have any information. She just bowed respectfully and withdrew from the room. I frowned at the thought of Rhea alone somewhere in this vast palace, and decided to ask Shiraz about her when I met him. We left the room to find guards waiting outside to escort us to dinner. We followed them through many walled courtyards and inner gates to the innermost terrace of the gardens, where a massive tent had been set up with a long, low table piled high with sumptuous Brandorian cuisine.
“We must speak with Darius Detori and leave Nedora as soon as possible,” Penelope whispered.
I nodded as I glanced at the fluffy silk cushions heavily embroidered with gold thread and embellished with precious stones around the edges, spread out around the table for the guests to sit on. A few chosen courtiers were already lounging around the table, inhaling smoke from flavored hookahs. The ladies that accompanied them were beautiful and unveiled. Dressed in billowing chiffon pants and small beaded tops, they had eyelids dusted with gold powder, heavily kohled eyes, and reddened lips the color of fresh cherries.
Prince Shiraz looked less imposing reclining on a cushion, his short dark hair uncovered. He had changed into an even more ornately embroidered robe of crimson and gold, with four rows of emerald beads slung carelessly around his neck. The jeweled rings on his fingers flashed as he gestured for us to sit beside him.
The Detori prince grinned, showing his pristine white teeth again, which for some reason had started to irritate me. When I asked him about Rhea, he gave me a vague answer about not being a physician.
“When will your father return?” Penelope asked.
“He is due home tomorrow,” said Shiraz before biting down on a crisp pigeon pastry. “You may meet him at your leisure and are welcome to stay as long as you like.” He flicked his hand and gestured for a serving girl to present me with a tray of bite-sized morsels.
“Thank you.” I eyed the tray of pistachio-covered pastry squares, caramelized almonds dipped in rose syrup, and honey-glazed apricots stuffed with clotted cream. I couldn’t resist.
I ate quickly as Penelope tried to get him to discuss the upcoming war, but Shiraz Detori didn’t seem to have any interest in anything but the scantily clad women who had draped themselves around him.
After a few hours of the prince wasting our time, Tristan escorted us back to our rooms. Rhea was still not back.
“That was a completely useless meeting,” said Penelope, exasperated. “Prince Shiraz doesn’t have a head for war and politics. If we want answers, we will have to wait for his father to return.”
Tristan shook his head. “We should go back to tracking Andromeda and the book.”
“Prince Shiraz said his father will be back tomorrow,” Penelope stated. “But he didn’t sound all that sincere when I asked him about it.”
“We should leave this place,” Tristan insisted, keeping his voice low. “I don’t like this Detori fellow. And I don’t think he’s trustworthy.”
Penelope started pacing the room. “I know we are pressed for time, but it is important for us to meet with Darius Detori and make sure he stands with us. Without Brandor’s support, we will not stand a chance against Morgana’s army. And even then, the odds are against us. But I agree we shouldn’t stay too long. We will wait until the end of the day tomorrow. If he doesn’t return by then, we will proceed to Sanria to speak to Santino and Roderigo Valasis.”
I crossed my arms. “I can’t leave Rhea here.”
“I asked one of the maids about Rhea,” Penelope offered. “They said she is being cared for and recovering in the infirmary.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” I said, going over to the window. “Why won’t they let me see her?” I felt very protective of Rhea. And I had promised to help her; she trusted me, and I couldn’t let her down.
“Get some rest,” said Tristan, his tone low and serious. “I will find Rhea. I have a lead on where the blackened iron is coming from that I need to check out anyway.”
Penelope put her hand on my shoulder. “Tristan is right. Get some sleep, and I will make arrangements with my contacts to locate Rhea’s family and see her safely back home.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
The night was quiet, and a soft breeze entered the room through an open window as I lay down on my soft bed and thought of Rhea. She was so young and scared, and she reminded me a little of myself when I was first dragged into this world. It was a terrible fate to be taken from your home and to never see your family again.
I felt something move in the room, and my fae senses snapped to full alert.
Tristan couldn’t be back so soon.
A shadow descended into the room. My blood turned cold as my eyes adjusted to the dark and met a pair of burning red eyes flickering like hot coals in the darkness. Its leathery obsidian wings blocked out the moonlight that shone through the open window.
A gorgoth!
The hideous half-bat henchmen of the Drakaar, men transformed by dark magic into wretched beasts. The nightmarish creature perched on my windowsill growled, razor-sharp claws and serrated teeth glinting in the moonlight.
I reached for Dawn, which lay beside my bed. Magic infused my sword, lighting it up with silver fire.
The gorgoth hesitated, but just for a second. With a terrifying growl, the creature pounced.
A second was all I needed. Letting my fae senses guide me, I sprung out of the bed and landed in a crouch in front of the creature.
Adjusting the grip on my sword, I moved swiftly as the creature lunged at me. Its bat-like wings made it difficult for it to move in an enclosed space. I raised my sword to block its blow, slicing at its arm. The gorgoth screamed and moved back, but I knew from experience it would not stop until one of us was dead.
I could not risk using a blast of fire magic here—releasing uncontrollable silver fire inside the palace was probably not the smartest thing to do. My hands started to shake as fear rushed in. My mind scrambled for options. I reached within as I had done before in the battle against the Drakaar. Calling on the mighty power of Illaria Lightbringer, I braced myself.
But nothing happened. I could not call on the light of the Dawnstar.
The gorgoth leapt, and I slashed at it again. My sword tore through its chest. Black blood sprayed my arm. The creature shrieked in fury and stumbled farther backward.
I didn’t have time to hesitate as I raised my left hand, created a knife burning with silver fire, and threw it. It sank into the gorgoth’s chest. Its flashing red eyes burned through me as it stopped, clutching the dagger to pull it out. I lunged forward, gripping my sword with two hands, and swung it in an arc, severing the gorgoth’s head from its body.
Another growl sounded behind me. I turned swiftly, clutching my still-flaming sword, to see two more gorgoths fly into the room.
Before I could lift my sword, one of the gorgoths pounced, catching me off guard. I sidestepped just in time to avoid a direct blow to my head, but its talons slashed across my arm and my sword fell to the ground, clattering away from me.
The second gorgoth sprang at me from the other side. I flung out a push strike in a circle around me as I ducked, throwing them back while I created a glamoured sword and swung it, slashing one gorgoth across its wings, tearing through the leathery blackness. It screeched and reached out its
talons, lunging at me.
I lost my footing and fell backward, hitting my head as the gorgoth landed on top of me, its serrated black teeth inches from my face. Black drool dripped onto my cheek. It smelled acrid, the stench of its evil unbearable.
The ring on my finger glowed as Abraxas spoke to me. “Use the magic of the Dawnstar, Aurora. It is more formidable than your fae-fire,” the deep voice said. “There is no dark creature that can withstand its power.”
I held the ravening creature away from my face. My fae strength was the only reason I was still alive.
“I can’t,” I screamed in my mind. “It’s gone.”
“The magic of the Dawnstar has always been within you, even when you didn’t know what it was. It was what saved you in the ruins when Lilith tried to possess your body. The light that pushed her away and did not let her enter was the Dawnstar.” The great dragon’s voice rose. “Fear and doubt veil the light of the Dawnstar. You must believe, Aurora—how many times do I have to remind you? Without faith in yourself and your abilities, your Dawnstar powers will not work.”
I held off the vicious gorgoth and turned my mind within, shutting out all fear and doubt. I could do this. I had done it before. A massive force raised its head as the light of the Dawnstar arose within. Calming my racing heart, I concentrated the power in my hands and directed it, fashioning it into beams of pure white light.
The gorgoth above me screamed as my magic pierced its body like a lance, destroying the darkness from within. The gorgoth crumpled to dust, but when I stood up, three more flew into the room.
But I was no longer afraid. I was the Dawnstar, the heir of Illaria Lightbringer, and this was what I was born to do.
The Return of the Dragon Queen Page 4
