Light and Darkness: The Complete Series: Epic Fantasy Romance

by Jayne Castel

  Thrindul raised an eyebrow. “And who are you?”

  “I’m Saul, son of Reoul of Anthor.”

  Another silence filled the chamber, this one sharp with tension.

  Lilia put the stone away. She felt slightly ill. This wasn’t going as she’d imagined. Ryana was playing them all to get a pardon from her Order, and Saul was mischief-making. She stole a glance at Dain. He was watching Saul, his brow furrowed.

  Thrindul favored Saul with a look of open dislike. “And where did you find the stone?”

  “The Gordi Isles. Monks had been protecting it for centuries. I retrieved it, just before The Shade Brotherhood landed on the island.”

  The High Enchanter’s gaze narrowed. “How did it end up around the neck of the girl?”

  Lilia stiffened. She didn’t appreciate the way the High Enchanter referred to her.

  “Saul carried the stone away within its iron casing,” Ryana answered just as Saul opened his mouth to speak. “He then removed it from the box before giving it to Lilia, not knowing of its power … of how it binds itself to its bearer.”

  “I wasn’t speaking to you,” Thrindul snapped. “Be silent.”

  “I escaped the isles just ahead of the Brotherhood,” Saul continued, casting a smug smile in Ryana’s direction, “yet they followed me. Once I arrived upon the Isle of Orin, I left the stone in safekeeping with Lilia … they’d never think to find it around the neck of a gullible village girl. I was hoping to come back for it once things had quietened down, but when I returned a few months later, The Brotherhood tracked me there. The four of us barely escaped the island.”

  Gullible village girl. Lilia clenched her jaw and glared at Saul—however, he ignored her.

  “The Brotherhood followed you here?” Thrindul pressed, alarmed.

  “No, they’re dead,” Ryana cut in. “Shadow creatures attacked their camp on the Eastern Road … and slaughtered them.”

  Thrindul digested this information, his expression hawkish. Yet his attention never strayed from Saul. “Why would you bring it to us?” he asked finally. “Surely, your father awaits his prize?”

  Saul favored him with a slow, arrogant smile. “Let’s just say I can’t resist a lady in distress.”

  “Liar,” Ryana spat, unable to hold her tongue. Her face had gone pale and taut. “He wants the stone … he just hasn’t had the chance to take it yet.”

  “Enough!” Thrindul cast Ryana a baleful look. “I won’t warn you again.”

  The High Enchanter leaned back in his carved chair, drumming his fingers on the polished surface of the table before him. Watching him, Lilia’s belly twisted. The man was scheming, she could see it. She fervently wished she hadn’t listened to Ryana. It had been a mistake to come here. This Order were not the benevolent protectors Ryana had made them out to be. She’d walked into a predator’s lair.

  “You should also know,” Saul drawled when the hush drew out, “that the ‘lady’ isn’t what she seems … Lilia here is a shifter.”

  Shock rippled across the Council Chamber.

  Gasps and muttering followed. A few of the enchanters even rose to their feet and moved into battle stance. Danger crackled through the air as the shadows in the corners of the room quivered and the flames in the cressets lining the walls sparked and spat.

  Lilia gasped, going rigid in her chair. A moment later Dain’s hand reached for hers, and he gave a reassuring squeeze. “It’s alright, Lily,” he whispered. “Don’t panic.”

  Glad of his support, Lilia clung to Dain’s hand as if it was a rope to safety in a churning sea.

  “Beast,” the red-haired woman seated next to Thrindul snarled, pushing herself to her feet. “Kill it!”

  “Silence!” Thrindul barked. “Sit down … all of you!”

  The enchanters obeyed, although not without muttered curses and hostile looks in Lilia’s direction. One of these was a young man with a chubby, boyish face and floppy blond hair. He was staring at Lilia as if she’d suddenly transformed into a Nightgenga. “What are we going to do with it?” he growled. “We can’t let it keep hold of The King Breaker.”

  It. Lilia’s throat constricted. Now that they knew who she was, she no longer even had a gender. She was merely a thing.

  “I’m aware of that, Brand,” Thrindul replied coolly. His gaze shifted to Ryana. “You knowingly brought a shifter into our midst?”

  Ryana’s throat bobbed. “Lilia’s not a danger to any of us,” she assured him, a slight tremble in her voice. “On the way here she had plenty of opportunities to betray us, to give the stone to the enemy … but she didn’t.”

  “I would never have done that,” Lilia gasped. “I only want to keep it safe.”

  Thrindul turned his cold, dark gaze upon her. “I’m placing you under house arrest,” he announced. “You will remain within the House of Light and Darkness until I decide your fate … and will have guards with you at all times.”

  “This is madness, Thrindul,” the red-haired woman growled. “A shifter cannot be allowed to live.”

  The High Enchanter dismissed her outburst with a wave. “Calm yourself, Irana. She’s the first of her kind any of us has ever seen … let’s not act rashly.”

  “Shouldn’t we let the king know we have half The King Breaker … and a shifter?” Asher interrupted, speaking for the first time since the council had begun. He sat next to the High Enchanter, his handsome face pale and taut. “It’s late, but he will want to know.”

  Thrindul raised his hand once more, brushing away Asher’s words as if they were annoying moths fluttering into his field of vision. “I shall seek an audience with King Nathan when I’m ready,” he replied, “but first I must think on things … I must form a plan.”

  Thrindul’s penetrating gaze shifted to the woman who’d brought Lilia to him. “Stand up, Ryana,” he ordered.

  She did as bid, her expression shuttered.

  “I’m not interested in hearing why you betrayed us,” he informed her. “Or that you wish to make amends. You can’t. Thanks to you, King Nathan has reduced our yearly stipend by a third. The king now forbids me from his private council … and our Order no longer has any say on matters of rule.”

  Ryana’s throat bobbed, tension now emanating off her in waves. “I was tricked into betraying you,” she said huskily.

  The High Enchanter rose to his feet, in a single fluid movement. Lilia drew back in her chair, surprised by his agility. The rest of the chamber appeared to collectively hold its breath, while the hawk perched on the back of his chair flapped its wings.

  Thrindul gathered the Light so quickly that Lilia wasn’t even aware of what he was doing until a whip of fire shot across the chamber. He had gathered it from the cresset nearest.

  Ryana cried out and stumbled back, raising her arms to ward him off. However, she was not fast enough. A cord of flame spiraled around her torso and pinned her arms against her sides.

  “Morten, Hamil.” Thrindul said, his voice harsh. Two male enchanters of the Dark seated halfway down the table rose to their feet. “Take this woman down to the Vault and lock her away.”

  The enchanters dragged Ryana from the Council Chamber.

  “Thrindul, please!” she shouted, struggling against them. “I could have joined The Brotherhood, but I didn’t. When the chance came to bring the other half of The King Breaker to you, I took it. Doesn’t that count for something?”

  The High Enchanter ignored her, sinking back down onto his carven chair. The chamber fell silent, save for the sound of Ryana’s gradually fading pleas as the two men towed her away.

  Eventually, Thrindul let out a long exhale. “I think enough has been discussed tonight,” he rumbled. “We shall adjourn and meet again in the morning after breakfast.”

  “High Enchanter.” Asher leaned in. “Do you think the changes we’ve seen of late are due to the discovery of both parts of The King Breaker?”

  Thrindul glanced at Asher, alarm flickering in his eyes. “Excuse me?
”

  “The dark days … the boldness of the shadow creatures. Doesn’t it seem a great coincidence that at the same time one piece travels to this city, the weather changes and the attacks begin?”

  Thrindul’s gaze widened, and he gave Asher a long, assessing look.

  “Does The King Breaker wield that kind of power?” Irana asked, frowning.

  Thrindul’s mouth thinned. “No one knows the true extent of what it’s capable of,” he replied.

  Lilia’s throat closed at these words, and she curled a trembling hand over the stone around her neck.

  It was very late by the time Lilia retired to her chamber for the night. Weary and upset, she walked amidst a guard of four enchanters, all of them stone-faced. Her body ached, and her eyes burned with fatigue.

  The room they’d given her was next to Dain’s, while Saul’s chamber was farther down the hallway. Saul retired to his chamber without a backward glance, while Dain hesitated in the doorway, his gaze going to Lilia’s guard who were now taking their places either side of her door.

  Dain watched the enchanters—one of whom was Brand, the young enchanter who’d spoken up during the council—his expression hardening. Dain then shifted his attention back to Lilia. “I’m just a few feet away. Call out, if you need help.”

  Lilia nodded, her gaze fusing with his. Ever since leaving Orin, Dain had never been far from her side. She suddenly felt a sense of loss at the thought of him sleeping in another chamber. She realized then how much he’d come to mean to her.

  Swallowing hard, Lilia managed a wan smile. “Goodnight, Dain.”

  Ignoring her guards, Lilia went into her chamber and closed the door behind her, tensing as she heard the ‘clunk’ of a bolt being slid home on the outside.

  Lilia’s mouth thinned. This wasn’t a bed-chamber—it was a cell.

  Leaning up against the smoothly sanded wood, she cast a bleary-eyed gaze around her new lodgings. Like the rest of this fortress, the room was austere with unadorned walls, a freshly scrubbed flagstone floor, and a single shuttered window. A narrow sleeping pallet rested against one wall with a low table next to it, where a jug of water and a wooden cup sat. Her leather pack leaned against the wall, her cloak on a peg behind the door.

  It was the first time she’d had any real privacy since leaving Orin. Yet she found herself not caring about the relative comfort. It was hard to feel grateful when you were a prisoner.

  27

  The Cold Light of Day

  LILIA AWOKE WITH a raging thirst, rumbling stomach, and a headache. She opened her eyes to see pale sunlight filtering in through the cracks in the shutters.

  She sat up and rubbed sleep from her eyes, attempting to get her bearings.

  Where am I? Why am I so tired?

  Memories of the day before crashed over her like a breaking wave, and she stifled a groan.

  The Council.

  Ryana.

  Saul.

  House arrest.

  Downing a cup of stale water, Lilia rose to her feet. Then, she crossed to the window and threw open the shutters.

  Although it was a dull morning, she squinted against the light. Fog shrouded the surrounding peaks, but she could still see for leagues down the green valley. It was as if she stood high upon a mountain eyrie. A thick, dark blanket of conifers covered the lower slopes of the mountains followed by a patchwork of fields below. The river was little more than a silver thread at this height. Once again, the sun hid behind a bank of low cloud.

  Lilia stared out at it. The weather matched her mood.

  A short while later, she stepped out into the corridor to find four enchanters—two men and two women, attired in charcoal robes—waiting outside her chamber.

  “Good morning,” Lilia greeted them coolly.

  None of the four replied. They merely watched her with open suspicion, as if they expected her to shift in front of them.

  Lilia clenched her jaw—how she wished she could.

  They led Lilia down three levels to a great hall situated on the ground level of the House of Light and Darkness. Despite its size, the feasting hall was as austere and sparsely furnished as Lilia’s chamber. Long wooden tables lined the rectangular space and low hearths burned at each end, taking the chill off the damp air. There was a raised dais at the far end of the hall, where Thrindul and a select group of enchanters sat.

  Lilia was dismayed to see both Dain and Saul were seated with the High Enchanter. She’d hoped they’d be eating at a different table. Her step slowed as she crossed the hall, aware that all eyes were now upon her. There were at least sixty men and women in this hall, breaking their fast, and they all seemed to be staring at her.

  Lilia ignored them, her gaze fixing instead upon the fresh bread and butter, porridge, cream, and honey that lined the tables. The aroma made her aching stomach twist. However, despite her hunger, she approached the dais reluctantly.

  Taking a seat next to Dain on a low bench halfway down the table, Lilia helped herself to a bowl of porridge.

  “Are you well?” Dain gave her a sidelong glance. “No one bothered you overnight?”

  Lilia shook her head, warmth spreading through her. She appreciated his concern. Dain’s protectiveness over her wasn’t something she’d ever take for granted again.

  “You’re safe here, shifter,” Thrindul’s voice boomed across the table. He sat at the head, flanked by Asher and the fire-haired woman, Irana. His white hawk sat, hunched on the back of his chair, watching Lilia with pitiless, gleaming eyes. “For the time being at least.”

  Lilia stared back at him, anger bubbling up inside her. “And then what?”

  She knew what folk did to shifters in the past. They stoned them to death or left them for a mob to rip to pieces.

  The High Enchanter favored her with a cold smile. “I’ve yet to decide.”

  Lilia frowned, fighting the churning fear in her belly. “What about Ryana then?”

  “She's not your concern,” the High Enchanter replied before taking a bite of bread.

  “Why do you care anyway?” Saul smirked from across the table. “Ryana used you … she used all of us.”

  “So did you,” Lilia shot back.

  His gaze widened in mock hurt.

  “Ryana betrayed her Order and has risked the ruin of us all,” Thrindul cut in, casting Saul a sour look.

  “She deserves worse than the Vault,” Irana added. Her angular face was sharp in the watery light filtering in from the high windows. “I hope she rots there.”

  Lilia dropped her gaze to her porridge. Despite that her belly ached with hunger, the conversation had made her feel queasy, as did Ryana’s fate. She realized then, that despite everything, she considered the woman a friend.

  Feeling someone’s gaze boring into her, she glanced up to see Brand, the young enchanter with the chubby face, watching her. The morbid fascination in his eyes made irritation surge within her.

  “What?” she snapped, digging her spoon into her porridge. “Are you waiting for me change into a toad?”

  Brand smirked. “Is that what you shift into?”

  Saul laughed. “No … she shifts into a fox … a small red vixen.”

  Lilia clenched her fingers around her spoon and cast Saul a dark look, hating him at that moment. How had she ever liked this vindictive bastard?

  “A fox, eh?” Brand grinned. “You’ll have to give us a demonstration later.”

  Lilia didn’t answer. Instead, she forced herself to take a mouthful of porridge. It was delicious, yet she had to make herself swallow. Next to her, she felt Dain shift closer on the bench. She was aware then that his right thigh now pressed gently against hers under the table.

  The contact reassured her, and she relaxed her leg against his.

  Thrindul cleared his throat then. Lilia glanced up to see that the High Enchanter was watching Saul coldly. “You’ve served your purpose here, Prince of Anthor.” His gaze then flicked over to Dain. “As have you.”

&nbs
p; Lilia felt Dain’s leg tense against hers. “I’m staying with Lilia,” he ground out.

  Thrindul favored him with a hard smile. “No, you’re not. Tomorrow at dawn, you and your smarmy friend are leaving.”

  Lilia ate her porridge without enjoyment, aware that she was being watched by every enchanter at the table. Even Asher, whom she’d liked, regarded her with a veiled, suspicious gaze.

  Soon she’d be alone here, surrounded by people who reviled her. She was relieved Saul was leaving, only disappointed Thrindul didn’t send him away today, but the thought of Dain going made something twist deep within her chest.

  He was the only one who understood her—the only one who knew who she truly was and hadn’t shrunk from it.

  The only one who cares.

  She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him as she finished her porridge. She didn’t want him to see the dismay in her eyes.

  Breakfast resumed, and after a few moments, Dain leaned in close. “What do you want to do?” he whispered.

  Her gaze flicked to him. “What do you mean?”

  Dain stared back at her, his expression determined. “We need to get you out of here.”

  Her eyes widened, although she managed to keep her face composed. “How?”

  “I’ll find a way … leave it to me.”

  “What are you two whispering about?” Brand cut in, his voice ringing down the table. Around them, the rumble of conversation halted.

  “We’re having a private conversation,” Dain growled back.

  “No, you’re not,” Brand countered. “If you have something to say, speak up so we can all hear.”

  Lilia rose to her feet, following the others at the table. Around them, the enchanters who lined the rows of tables in the cavernous space were filing out of the feasting hall.

  Thrindul stretched out an arm so that his hawk could step onto it from its perch on the back of his chair. He wore a leather arm guard over the sleeve of his white robe, to protect his flesh from the hawk’s talons.