by Emma Hamm
Even Lore was only half elf. Only half of what she could have been if her mother had been able to find another like herself.
She sighed. “I’m not my mother.”
“No one is asking you to be her.” Margaret pointed to the only other chair at the table. “Have a seat, Silverfell. There’s a lot I need to tell you.”
No one was foolish enough to argue with Margaret when she wanted something. However, Lore felt a bit frustrated when those damned tendrils of shadows touched her legs. “Don’t yank me into the gloom, Darkveil.”
Margaret’s right ear twitched. “So you do remember the old ways, then. I’m surprised. Here I was thinking that you’d taken on the persona of a human so well that you had wiped all memory of us from your mind.”
“It’s hard to forget,” she muttered.
Lore shouldered past a satyr, her hands still empty. She desperately wanted something for her hands to do. Whether that was lifting a tankard of ale or bringing elfweed to her mouth. It didn’t matter. She didn’t know what to do with the hands that laid limp at her sides.
She sat down hard and watched as Margaret swung her feet up onto the table. Mud clung to the edges of her leather boots and rained down on the empty plates. Where had the rebellion leader been?
“You realize the King was here today?” Margaret asked.
“I could have guessed. The Umbral Knights were out in full force, and no one missed the shadow of the dragon.” A shiver traveled down her spine. “No one ever misses the dragon.”
“Well, a little birdie told me that there’s been an interesting development.”
She was going to make her ask. Margaret liked to make people think her plans were actually their plans. The more she got them involved, the more she could guide their thoughts in a direction she wanted.
Lore hated that kind of manipulation.
If she were going to make her own mind up about the whole plan, then she didn’t want someone putting ideas in her head. Biting her lip, she eyed Margaret’s boots one more time. “Obviously you were involved in that interesting development in some way.”
“I wasn’t, surprisingly. I was watching from the rafters. This is too big for me to not see for myself, and I worried that my informant wouldn’t tell me the entire truth.” Margaret slid her feet off the table and leaned forward.
The movement happened so quickly that Lore didn’t have time to back away. She got a face full of mad elf before she had time to react.
“You’re excited,” Lore muttered. “What’s got you all riled up, Margaret?”
“The King is looking for a bride,” she whispered. “He’s going to have women from all over Tenebrous flocking to his castle hoping they can capture his attention. He’s not even looking at the other cities.”
So?
Lore didn’t care if the King wanted a wife. He’d need one, eventually. No king wanted to pass the crown to someone other than his own child, and a legitimate one at that. And their king hadn’t exactly been trying very hard as of late.
Maybe he’d waited too long. He was getting a little older than his court was probably comfortable with. She wouldn’t be surprised to hear they had urged him to have this bride show so they could look over all the breeding stock.
“Why does that involve the rebellion?” she asked.
“Because this is the perfect opportunity to do the one thing we’ve all desired for years. Ever since this line of kings came into power, they have taken from us. Time and time again.” Margaret’s eyes burned and her cheeks darkened with an angry blush. “This one is the worst of them all. He wants to wipe us from this kingdom for good. He and his Umbral Knights have ruled this place for too long, and now we have the opportunity to end all of that.”
“Do we?” Lore wasn’t following. “You need to be crystal clear with your words.”
“We’re going to put a bride into the race. A bride he simply cannot resist. And then, when the time is right, she’s going to put a dagger through his black heart.” Margaret leaned back in her chair, putting one of her feet back on the table.
Lore tried to make sense of the plan. Obviously, Margaret thought it was their best idea yet, considering the wicked grin on her face. But there were too many things that could go wrong.
“You’re sending a young woman to her death,” she said. “I don’t know why you ever thought this would work, but you have to know that the King will sniff out any magical creature in his court. He’s going to find her, and then he’s going to kill her in front of the entire kingdom. All you’re going to do is murder an innocent person and get everyone’s hopes up.”
“Ah,” Margaret held up a single finger. All the other creatures surrounding them went silent. “But we won’t send someone he can sniff out. Even a magician can’t tell if someone is half elf.”
Oh.
Oh.
“No,” Lore replied, standing up so quickly that her chair screamed across the stone floor. “If you think I’m going to fall for the same treatment that my mother did, then you don’t know me at all. I will not give my life for a cause that I don’t even believe in.”
“Don’t believe in? You’re an elf! You have seen what this king has done to all of us. If we aren’t the ones to stop him, then who will?”
They were all staring at her. She could feel the weight of their gazes like a physical touch on her back. Not a single person in this tavern thought she would deny Margaret this request. But they weren’t the ones being asked to risk their necks for a cause that was ridiculous. Foolish. The King would see right through her. She would die trying to live up to their hopes and dreams.
She shook her head again. “No. Margaret, this king is more powerful. Every generation that passes watches our people get weaker and this line of kings gets stronger. He has the last dragon on his side! Do you really think we can defeat that?”
“I do.”
Damn it. The woman had gone mad in her old age.
“I don’t,” Lore replied. “I know you think that this is the only plan that will work. My mother would have fought alongside you, and she probably would urge me to do my duty as an elf. I’m not so blind that I don’t recognize that. But I also know when the timing is wrong.”
Goliath stepped into the conversation. He set his tankard of ale on the table. And that’s how Lore knew he was serious. He never put down his drink.
The dwarf straightened his shoulders, swallowed hard, and said, “Lorelei Silverfell, we need you. I know you’re afraid of what might happen and I think we all share that same fear. The King will be distracted by all the women trying to win his heart. The dragon will have his attention divided with all the opportunities for each of those women to kill the King. The Umbral Knights won’t be involved because they would terrify the potential new queen. Everything is exactly where it needs to be. You just need to trust us.”
Lore choked. “Trust you? Trust the people who got my mother killed?”
She’d said that too loud. Now everyone in the entire tavern was quiet and staring at her.
Too many eyes. She didn’t do well with so many eyes on her, it made her skin itchy. Lore scratched at her arms, wishing she had some of that elfweed in her pocket. She needed it.
Margaret watched her with an all too knowing gaze. “Your mother would want you to do this, Lore. She knew how important it was to save this kingdom and our people. You could make her memory proud.”
“No,” she replied.
“Then you give us no choice,” Margaret said with a heavy sigh. “We’ll call the Umbral Knights. We’ll inform them of your name, what you have been selling, using, and destroying your body with. We’ll tell them that you’re a half elf, but that doesn’t matter to them, really. They will string you up for everyone to see.”
“You wouldn’t,” she hissed.
“I would. The future of the kingdom hangs on your shoulders, little girl. I will do whatever it takes to make sure you do your job.”
Her job? Lorelei had n
othing to do with any of this. She didn’t want to kill the King. She didn’t want to get involved with any of this whatsoever.
“Right,” she muttered. “Well, you do all that and let me know how it works out for you. I’ll take my chances with the Umbral Knights.”
She was calling Margaret’s bluff, really. The dangerous elf had been best friends with Lore’s mother. She wouldn’t kill a dear friend’s only child, would she?
Lore started walking away from the shadows and thought for a second that she was free. Margaret wouldn’t do anything. The others were watching her go, eyes wide with surprise. But they weren’t trying to stop her.
Good. They should see someone leave with their head on their shoulders, at the very least.
The door to the tavern opened and two Umbral Knights walked in. One of them had dented armor and bright splashes of blood on his chest plate. The other was pristine as the day he was made, but the dark holes in his helmet swirled with a smoke that stared at her with rage. Her blood turned cold.
“We were alerted there was a half elf in this tavern,” the clean knight announced. “Everyone stop where you are, and we will inspect each and every one of you.”
Shadows reached for her ankles again, stroking her skin and cajoling her to turn back. “I can still save you.” Margaret’s voice caressed her ear. “All you have to do is agree to my terms.”
Lorelei’s heart raced. Did she take her chances? The Umbral Knights couldn’t prove she was half elf, could they? Pointed ears weren’t definitive proof. And if they could, was the King really killing people for being half a magical creature? She still had mortal blood in her.
Staring into those dark eyes, she knew this Knight would kill her on the spot. It wanted to. The dark mist inside that armor wanted to tear apart something magical, as though it were punishing the creature who had made it.
Margaret had trapped her. Lore didn’t have a choice at all.
She never should have come here.
“Fine,” she snarled. “I’ll do what you want.”
The shadows wrapped around her body and drew her back into the waiting arms of Margaret Darkveil.
Chapter 4
Abraxas
Abraxas returned to his lair with no small amount of disgust. He landed hard outside the cave that connected to the castle, higher on the mountain peak. The cave was his only sanctuary, the one place the King had allowed him to build so that he could remain himself.
Even the King knew how much Abraxas hated being a mortal. And with good reason.
But now the King wanted to take a bride.
Why hadn’t Zander told him of this plan? Usually the King wouldn’t keep his mouth shut about women or his newest plaything. He always tried to invite Abraxas to join in on the fun, but that had never once happened. Besides, the King was constantly comparing himself to others. He didn’t need to compare himself to a dragon in human form.
Shouldering past the long tendrils of greenery that hid his cave, Abraxas folded his wings tight to his body and wiggled through the stonework. Someone, long ago, had carved stone dragons into the sides of the entrance. He followed their long, serpentine bodies all the way to his coveted hoard.
Or, he supposed, the King’s hoard. Considering Zander owned Abraxas, he likely owned all the gold and wealth that Abraxas had amassed over the years.
Even Zander’s father had come down here and enjoyed the sight of the wealth. After all, what human got to see a mountain of gold coins?
Abraxas picked his way over the mound, slowly coiling his crimson body around the coins that shifted in a clinking shower as he settled. Only then did he open up his wings and let them rest upon twin mounds on either side of him.
Gold coins. Gemstones. Crowns, necklaces, and jewels. A thousand items gathered here, all sacrificed to the dragon in hopes that he would spare their life. Sometimes it worked. Like in the old days, when he was allowed free rein to do what he had wanted. Back when there had been other dragons to keep the mortal rulers busy.
But now, it was only him. The wealth of gold and glimmering power had started to trickle away. He wasn’t sure if it was the King stealing from him, or if the movement of his giant body had caused some coins to leak out of the cave and into mortal hands. Perhaps he’d never know.
Abraxas sighed and rested his massive head on the gold. Flying was wonderful and the best part of being a dragon, but it was so damned tiring sometimes.
He wanted to sleep. He wanted to think about the poor woman who would be bound to the King for the rest of her life.
Some of the King’s people said he was evil. They claimed his soul was marked by all the dead that had fallen in his father’s wars. A war the son had finished. Maybe that was the truth, Abraxas didn’t know. He didn’t see the same person the villagers and residents of the Umbral Kingdom saw.
Zander was a child. He would make a poor husband, and perhaps an even worse king when he really looked at the boy’s choices, but what immortal didn’t think a human was young? The King would learn or he would die.
Most of them did.
Footsteps clattered down the stairwell that led to the castle, and Abraxas lazily lifted his head. Had the King sent a servant to him? He didn’t want food, but he was more than ready to roast someone for interrupting his sleep.
It wasn’t a servant who emerged from the stairwell, however. The King himself waltzed onto the small cliff that overlooked Abraxas’s hoard as though every gold coin had been placed there by his own hands.
“Abraxas!” Zander called out. “I want to know your thoughts after the meeting. I thought the leaders of Tenebrous looked quite excited, didn't you?”
They hadn’t. The men had worn pinched expressions of disbelief, anger, and then sadness. They were all likely thinking about the many young women they were going to sacrifice to this king’s whims. And they were probably wondering if any of those women would return to them.
Still, he couldn’t tell the King any of that or he’d send his Knights to cut down every leader who had looked at him with a cross expression.
“They were all very busy trying to figure out how to find the best women in their provinces, Your Highness.” Talking in this form was sometimes a little uncomfortable for humans, but thankfully Zander was very used to it.
Abraxas wasn’t even sure how he talked. The voice built in his chest like someone else was speaking through his throat. Or perhaps that was simply his mortal form. Either way, all he had to do was open his mouth, and the voice came out. Though sometimes it sounded a bit like a hiss rather than a voice. He hadn’t quite gotten used to the sensation himself, even after all these years.
His deep voice rumbled throughout the cavern, but the sound didn’t phase Zander one bit.
“Do you think they will find the prettiest ones, though?” Zander held out his hand as though he were reaching for a young woman. “That’s what is most important, after all. I want to make sure that my children are the most beautiful royals this family has ever seen.”
“More beautiful than yourself?” he asked wryly.
“Of course not.” With a flourish, the King propped his hands on his hips and glared at the dragon. “I wanted to make sure you and I were on the same page with this one. I need a bride, and I need her to be an impressive queen or none of them will take me seriously.”
“Yes, sire. You are ever so intelligent.”
Ah, he was too sarcastic with that phrase. Zander would notice, and the King absolutely did.
The pretense of a foolish boy dropped from Zander’s shoulders and the glare on his face warned that Abraxas had gone too far. “You do realize that you have to support me on this?”
“Have to?” Abraxas didn’t like the boy’s tone. He was the dragon in the room, not the King. And though his life was bound by the boy’s father, that didn’t mean he respected this boy king in the slightest. “You want a bride, boy, and I will watch you get married. I will ensure none of them tries to kill you. None of that means
I have to agree with your scheme to get Tenebrous back under your thumb.”
Zander’s eyes grew bigger with every word. If he were a more intelligent man, he would have taken the threat for what it was and left it. A mere mortal couldn’t conquer a dragon.
The King was not that intelligent.
He narrowed his eyes and a muscle on his neck jumped with his too fast pulse. “You want to challenge me on this? You think I shouldn’t get married?”
“I think you should leave the poor girls alone for a little while. They are trying to live their lives as well, Zander. You don’t need to pluck them from their homes while you decide if one of them suits your taste.”
He’d gone too far. Abraxas knew he’d gone too far and yet the words wouldn’t stop coming out of his mouth.
This king took so much from his people. Abraxas had seen enough of Zander’s greed to know these women wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms. They would be played with. Toyed with. Made to think that they were the only person in the King’s life, when they were really agreeing to a life of mistresses and misery.
Some days, the guilt of working for the King threatened to overwhelm him. Today was one of those days.
Zander watched him with a calculating look on his face. “You seem to have everything under control, don’t you? The great dragon of old. The last of your kind. And yet, here you are, working for me.”
“Your father,” he corrected. “Your father was the one who trapped me.”
“And given the chance, you wouldn’t leave this place. Is that what you want me to believe?” Zander laughed, but the sound was filled with dark intent. “You are only here for one reason. We both know that.”
Of course he was. Abraxas was the last dragon. Why would he ever subject himself to servitude if he didn’t have to?
A growl rumbled through his chest and he knew the base of his throat glowed with flames that wanted to erupt from his mouth and spew out onto this little boy who had stepped too close to the dragon.
