Dark Breaks the Dawn

by Sara B. Larson

  There was no possible way he’d made it past the wards though, unless … “He came through the Undead Forest to avoid the wards.” Evelayn’s words fell like stones from her lips. No one went through the Undead Forest that spanned the easternmost reaches of Lachalonia, where the Spirit Harbinger dwelled—and more.

  Caedmon nodded grimly.

  Evelayn stood like a statue in front of the throne, the crown on her head pressing into her skull. She didn’t dare move, afraid she would break into pieces in front of everyone again.

  “And now he believes if it worked once, it will work again.” Tanvir spoke up, his voice tight with thinly veiled anger.

  “Yes,” Caedmon agreed. “That is his belief. But this time you will be prepared. If you listen to me.”

  “Why would he do it again? We know he was willing to do it once, why wouldn’t we guard ourselves against it happening a second time?” General Olena questioned Caedmon now as Evelayn tried to force the all-consuming grief and pain back down, away. “Especially here? He thinks to sneak his way through Éadrolan undetected to attack us from behind? It’s ludicrous.”

  “He is blinded by greed and drunk with victory. He thinks Queen Evelayn is too young and untrained to be a true threat—and he is counting on the fact that you won’t expect him to try it twice, and would think it is too much of a risk for him to travel through your kingdom during the height of summertime. Prince Lorcan also believes it will work again and is pushing his father to try it against you. I, too, have been pushing him to follow through on this plan, because I saw a chance to put into play a plan of my own. Lothar is the only one against it.”

  “How do you know all this? Why should we trust anything you’re saying?” Evelayn finally spoke up again, her conduit stone pulsing hot against her breastbone. The magic itched for release, she could feel it building in her. Or was it her own rage and grief, calling to the magic, pulling it to her? She took a slow breath through her nose, trying to calm herself.

  “Because I am second-in-command to his top general and privy to all of his war councils—including the secret ones.”

  Kel jumped up from his seat, his expression dark with anger. “You are that high up in his army and expect us to believe that you wish for this war to end with your king defeated? That anything you’ve told us is the truth—and not an attempt to trick the new queen into making a mistake as fatal as her mother’s?”

  Caedmon turned his head to look at Kel. “Yes. If anything, it should prove the truth of my statements. I was sent as a scout to find the best route for King Bain to take with Lorcan and those he is bringing with him to set the trap—including me. If they knew I was here, telling you this, my life would be forfeit. I’m risking everything on the hope that you will see the truth in my eyes and hear it in my voice.” He looked back up at Evelayn.

  “And how did you get past our wards?”

  “The same way as my king. Through the forest.” Caedmon shuddered.

  “Why would he send the second-in-command of his entire army as a scout?” Tanvir piped up now, before Evelayn could ask the same question.

  “Because there are only a handful who know his true plans. There are many Dark Draíolon who wish for this war to end—who long for peace. King Bain can feel the unrest growing in his people and he’s nervous that they may soon rebel. He suspects that Lothar is against the war and may even be trying to enact a plot so he can inherit the kingdom and power and end the war. King Bain knows he must move fast and that as few people as possible can know the truth of his plans, or else risk their discovery.”

  Several Draíolon began speaking at once, but Evelayn lifted her hands, silencing them all as she stared at Caedmon.

  “Lothar wishes for peace,” she repeated.

  “That is the rumor. I haven’t spoken with him about it, because I dare not reveal myself when I have worked so hard to get into a position of trust with the king—hoping for a moment like this, when I could help the Light Kingdom defeat him and somehow find a way to restore the balance and bring peace back to our land.”

  “You can’t possibly believe—”

  “Enough!” Evelayn cut off General Olena’s protest. She studied Caedmon, letting the silence build, drawing out into minutes of tense waiting. He never flinched, not even when she slowly began to descend the stairs toward him, the long, full skirts of her dress swishing across the marble.

  When she stopped in front of him, Caedmon had to tilt his head back to look up at her from where he still knelt on the hard ground. She lifted a hand and sent a coil of light around his neck, wrapping it tight enough to begin limiting his ability to breathe.

  “Swear to me,” she snarled. “Swear to me on the Immortal Tree—by forfeit of your life—that what you say is true.”

  Caedmon nodded, his silvery skin mottling. “I swear,” he choked out. “I swear!”

  Evelayn released the band of light slightly and he repeated himself, his voice rasping against his raw throat. “I swear on my life by virtue of the Immortal Tree. If what I say is false, let me die now.”

  Evelayn stared into his disconcertingly pale eyes, searching for any hint of artifice. Something deep inside told her that he was telling the truth. Was it an instinct worth following, or only a desperate hope? A chance to end the war … to restore peace. It was too good to be true. But maybe, just maybe—

  “He will think I am leading him straight to victory, but instead, I will be leading him to his death. I swear it, Your Majesty.” Caedmon’s expression turned pleading, his eyes shining with what looked like withheld tears. “The Draíolon I was Bound to was one he ‘sacrificed’ to draw out your mother. She died along with hundreds of others. He allowed an entire battalion of our people to be slaughtered, just to make it look authentic. He will stop at nothing, and I finally have a chance to do something about it. Please, please believe me,” Caedmon begged. “But you must decide quickly. My time is short before he grows suspicious. I must return as quickly as possible so he will believe me to still be true to him.”

  Evelayn glanced at her council—at the horror on General Olena’s face, and the contemplation on Kel’s. High Priestess Teca looked torn, as did the others. And then she turned to Tanvir. He inclined his head slightly, in what looked like a very subtle nod.

  Finally, she turned back to Caedmon. “Release him.”

  Caedmon’s head bowed forward as he audibly sighed with relief, but Evelayn had already turned away to stride up the stairs. “Assemble the entire war council immediately,” she announced, spinning to address the room again from the top of the dais. “Today we will finally make a plan to defeat King Bain and restore peace to Lachalonia.”

  THE FIRE HAD LONG SINCE BURNED DOWN TO EMBERS and Ceren was unwillingly dozing off, her neck bent at an odd angle, when the door finally opened and Evelayn walked in. Without turning, Evelayn said, “Somehow I knew you’d be here waiting for me.”

  “I have hot tea ready for you, and your favorite scone. Well … it was hot a few hours ago. Now I guess it’s tepid tea. Yum?” Ceren held up the cup she’d prepared long ago.

  Evelayn didn’t laugh. Her shoulders sagged forward and the circles under her eyes were even more pronounced as she crossed the room and took the cup from Ceren.

  The new queen slumped into a chair, took a sip of the cold chamomile-and-lavender tea—usually her favorite drink before bed—and made a face.

  “I did try to heat it up again once or twice. But I gave up when the fire died for the second time. It’s too blazing hot to keep a fire burning tonight.”

  Evelayn nodded in agreement and bravely took another sip before setting the cup down. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought we’d never finish.”

  “More meetings?” Ceren asked carefully, not wanting to pry, though she was near to perishing from curiosity. She hadn’t seen Evelayn since she’d marched out of the dining room earlier to question the Dark Draíolon. Rumors were racing around the castle.

  Evelayn nodded again and
reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

  “Do you wish me to call for Tyne to bring you something for your head?”

  “No, don’t bother her. Let her get some sleep.” Evelayn stood up and moved over to her window, staring out into the dark night.

  “I could put this tea to good use and pour it on a cloth—then you could lay it over your eyes. Maybe that would help?” Ceren offered, standing as well.

  Evelayn flashed her a grateful smile. “That sounds lovely actually.”

  “Turn around. I’ll help you undress, then you can go lie down and I’ll get it ready.”

  Evelayn’s lips trembled and she sounded near to crying when she whispered, “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

  “Oh, stop,” Ceren protested, though she warmed at the sentiment. “Let me undo these ties. They must be cutting off your oxygen to make you talk like that.”

  She pulled Evelayn in for a quick hug, then spun her around before she could protest and began to pull at the strings that Tyne had done up that morning. As she worked, Evelayn began to talk, the whole story tumbling out in a rush. How she’d questioned Caedmon, what he’d told her, how her mother had died—and what King Bain was planning.

  “So what are you going to do?” Ceren asked, her mind whirling as Evelayn finally stepped out of the dress and went to lie down in only her shift. It was too hot for a nightgown. Ceren began to pick up the dress to hang but Evelayn waved her hand.

  “Leave it. I don’t ever want to wear that dress again.”

  Ceren paused and then slung the beautiful gown over the back of a chair instead. Tyne could take it away in the morning and reuse the fabric or give it away. Though she tried to hide it, some of the dismay she felt must have shown on her face, because Evelayn hurried to add, “I found out so many horrible things today. That dress will only serve to remind me of them. You may have it, if you wish.”

  They were almost the same size, though Evelayn was taller, so Ceren would have to have it tailored, but she was secretly thrilled. Though she was from the nobility, her family was nowhere near as wealthy as the queen of Éadrolan. It was rarely a point of conflict between them, as Evelayn shared everything she had with Ceren willingly. “Thank you, perhaps I will have it remade into something so it won’t remind you of today when I wear it.”

  Evelayn nodded and closed her eyes, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose again. Ceren quickly got to work preparing the makeshift tincture for her friend. The other reason Ceren had never truly begrudged Evelayn her wealth and position was she knew full well it came with more pressures, more worries, and more death than Ceren would ever wish upon anyone—not even Julian, the Light Draíolon who had teased her ruthlessly for years when they were younglings.

  Ceren gently laid the cool, moist cloth across Evelayn’s eyes, and her friend sighed in relief, blindly reaching out to grab Ceren’s hand.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to defeat him,” Evelayn finally whispered, her voice broken. “Even if we plan everything perfectly, it still falls to me to do it. I’m the only one with enough power to kill another royal.”

  Ceren squeezed her hand tightly. “You can do it, Ev. I know you can. You reclaimed our magic, didn’t you? You harnessed the power of the sun! Surely this can’t be harder than that.”

  Evelayn suddenly shot straight up, the cloth falling to her lap. “The power of the sun,” she repeated. “That’s it!”

  “It is?”

  “Oh, Ceren, you’re a genius!”

  “I am? I mean, yes, I am. But just for the sake of argument, why, exactly, am I a genius?”

  But Evelayn had jumped to her feet and rushed over to her wardrobe. “Hurry, help me put on a dressing gown or something. I have an idea.”

  “I thought you had a headache …”

  “There’s no time for headaches. I must reconvene the war council.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now.”

  Ceren shook her head, but hurried over to help Evelayn get dressed once again.

  THE DIMMING LIGHT OF DUSK CREPT THROUGH THE west windows of the council room. It had been a week since Evelayn had come up with her idea to defeat King Bain, but they were no closer to figuring out exactly how to pull off her plan than they had been seven days earlier.

  “He’d never fall for that. Bain would scent the other Draíolon and recognize the trap.” General Kel was arguing with Olena—again. Every time someone presented a new idea for how to ensnare King Bain long enough for Evelayn to follow through with her part, someone would inevitably point out why it was flawed or wouldn’t work at all.

  Evelayn’s headache had become a nightly nuisance. And daily, too, if she was being totally honest with herself.

  Caedmon had told them he had a falconry and would send one of his personal falcons as soon as he knew any more details of King Bain’s plan. Since his birds weren’t magical, they were capable of crossing the barrier the priestesses were upholding at the border of the two kingdoms, to deliver messages back and forth. There was still a risk of it being intercepted, so Caedmon and Evelayn had agreed on a code to use in their communications before he left.

  But now she lived in fear of receiving his message and learning their time was running short. How soon would Bain orchestrate his attack? In a week? Two? Or perhaps months from now? She had no way of knowing. Not until Caedmon told her—if he told her. There were still those who thought she had made a grave mistake placing her trust in him.

  “Perhaps we should end early tonight,” someone suddenly cut in to the ongoing argument.

  Evelayn looked up to see Lord Teslar watching her shrewdly.

  “I believe we’re all exhausted and could use a good night’s rest,” he continued. “Maybe then we can come at this problem with fresh perspective tomorrow?”

  “I agree,” Evelayn immediately upheld the suggestion before anyone could dissent. They’d been up so late every night, after meeting throughout the day as well, that she hadn’t had the energy or time to run since before her mother’s death. She desperately needed the chance to clear her head and exercise away some of the worry and stress that hovered over her, tightening the hold on her lungs and stomach until she nearly always felt short of breath and her appetite was mostly gone.

  There was a murmur of agreement from the long, rectangular table where all the top generals, lords, and High Priestesses who had been invited to the meetings sat. Only those she trusted the most—or whom her mother had trusted, as was the case with Lord Teslar.

  How had he known that she’d needed a break? There was no mistaking the timing of his suggestion, coinciding with the exact moment she’d squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught of another skull-splitting headache. But she thought she’d been subtle about it. His son Quinlen, who shared his father’s shrewd green-eyed gaze, and Ceren had been spending quite a bit of time together recently, if what Ceren told her at night when Evelayn collapsed into bed was true. Perhaps her friend had confided her worries to Quinlen, who had then told his father?

  Regardless, she was grateful for the respite as they all stood up and went their separate ways.

  Evelayn had included Lord Tanvir despite her conflicted feelings about him—General Kelwyn had chosen him to help train her for a reason, he was the High Lord of the Delsachts, and she did trust him to look out for her well-being, if nothing else. He was nearly to the door when she called out, “Lord Tanvir, if you would, I’d have a word with you before you go.”

  He immediately froze and turned, bending into a deep bow. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  Oh, how she hated when he used her title. Especially that one. But then again, they were not in private and he was nothing to her—wasn’t he? So what else was to be expected?

  High Priestess Teca shot her a glance, but Evelayn stood tall. She didn’t need to offer an excuse to speak to one of the council members alone.

  Once everyone had left and the door shut, Tanvir took a hesitant step toward her and then st
opped again. She was getting better and better at recognizing and deciphering scents, especially for Draíolon whom she knew well. And she knew him as well as she knew most, other than Ceren, now that her parents were both gone. That, combined with her growing mastery of the Light Power, which allowed her to sense her subjects’ emotions—at least a little bit—made her fairly certain he was nervous. Even anxious.

  Perhaps he did care for her, after all.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked to speak to you, my lord,” she began, “especially after our, um, last conversation.” Her neck warmed at the reminder of the terrible night on the turret when he’d rejected her. He opened his mouth, so she quickly barreled on before he could say anything. “Seeing that I am apparently going to be able to retire at a normal time tonight, and assuming that I am actually able to sleep, I wish to run in the morning. Regardless of the uncertain nature of our association with each other at this point, I would still rather run with you than be trailed by my sentries. Are you still willing to go with me?”

  Tanvir’s eyes had grown wider throughout her little speech, but he immediately said, “Yes, of course,” and the freshness of relief immediately replaced the sharp anxiety that had discolored his scent. “Are you sure having just me will be enough assurance of your safety, now that you are the queen?”

  “If it was enough for the princess, I don’t see why it should be any different for the queen. We haven’t heard from Caedmon, so we know King Bain isn’t going to attack tomorrow. It should be fine.”

  “As long as we can trust him,” Tanvir pointed out.

  “I don’t have any other choice. If I can’t trust him, then we have no hope of ever defeating Bain.”

  Tanvir was quiet for a moment. “For what it’s worth, I think you made the right choice. I believe he will come through for us.”

  There was a loud knock at the door and then Aunt Rylese burst into the room, looking faintly scandalized. “My dear Evelayn, there you are. When everyone else from the council meeting showed up to dinner except for you and Lord Tanvir, I knew it would be best to come in search to make sure everything is quite all right.” She shot Tanvir a disapproving glare.