Durstin

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Durstin Page 7

by Immortal Angel


  “And if I refuse to marry him?”

  “You may have a choice. I am old, and when I am gone, there will be no leadership. Without a union between you, the people will be divided should he contest the passing of the crown.”

  “Surely you don’t think they’ll choose Elsifan over me. There’s something wrong with him, Father. I can sense it.”

  Her father sighed. “Whatever you see, the others don’t. Or perhaps they are drawn to it. Sometimes people simply want change, a feeling of excitement, whether it turns out to be good for them or not.”

  He offered her his arm and they exited her chambers, proceeding down the corridor and descending the wide, spiraling stairs together to the enormous hall below. Thousands of candles danced along the walls, sparkling fountains bubbled at regular intervals. Stringed instruments and flutes sang from the far corner, creating the most beautiful music.

  At the bottom step, she was met by an elf, and Durstin recognized him. He’d never forget that face. He’d seen it the night the Renwynian elves had marched on the Ardaks—the night they’d lost their queen. And he’d always suspected it was this elf who had killed her.

  Her father seemed happy to hand his daughter off to the traitor, however, and he was beginning to realize that the elder king was a horrible judge of character. Or perhaps the choices were so limited that there were no other options.

  The crowd parted for them as Elsifan led her to the dance floor.

  “You look radiant tonight, Kerryth.” Elsifan smiled smugly down at her. “Almost equal to me.”

  Her smile tightened. “That would be more amusing, Elsifan, if I didn’t know you meant it.”

  Durstin, who was unable to watch his wife dance with another man, turned to see that her father had proceeded to a dais at the end of the great hall. He sat upon the throne, two elves placing a golden crown upon his head.

  Oh gods.

  She wasn’t just an elf or even an elder elf.

  She was the crown princess, heir to the golden kingdom he saw before him. Now he knew what her sister had meant. The golden child, beloved by all.

  So, Elsifan wanted to be king, did he? That would help explain why he’d killed the Renwyn queen.

  The song seemed to last forever since he could feel his wife’s discomfort the entire time. At the end of the song, the king rose from the throne. “Let the winter festival begin!”

  The musicians picked up a lively tune, and elves emerged from archways along the walls, carrying wine and intricately detailed, layered sweets the likes of which he’d never seen.

  The dancing went on for hours that seemed to pass in a blur. He didn’t like seeing Kiersten with Elsifan, even though he knew she didn’t like him. Durstin watched her navigate her way through the crowd, interacting with the others. There were many female elves who spoke behind her back, and she fended off jealous rivals for Elsifan’s affections by asking Elsifan to dance with them.

  Soon the evening was over, and when Elsifan realized her father wasn’t going to announce their engagement, the elf’s mood turned dark. He remained behind while the others took their leave. Finally, he walked Kiersten back to her father’s suite.

  Just outside the door, Elsifan leaned in, brushing his lips across hers.

  Durstin could feel her shudder of revulsion and see the hint of her bewilderment over his actions.

  She backed away. “Thank you for this evening, Elsi.”

  “Why didn’t your father make the announcement?”

  “Because I asked him not to. I’m sorry, but I’m not ready to marry.”

  He stepped closer. “Don’t you think this has gone on long enough?” He tried to kiss her again.

  She pushed against his chest to hold him back. “This is wrong, Elsifan.”

  “You know I want you, and everyone expects it. Our families were the most prestigious of the group that came to Aurora. It’s a good match, and it’s been centuries.”

  “There are other women who want you . . .”

  “And other men who want you. What of it? This would be a political match, one to bring the people together.”

  “I thought the people already were together.”

  “You are wrong. There are some who wish to divide us. We are largely the same as we were eleven centuries ago—perhaps it’s time for us to evolve.”

  “Do you mean for us to leave this place? Or to mate with others as those in Renwyn wanted to do?”

  “No. I don’t know what form it will take. I only know that we must evolve, or we will die.” Elsifan’s expression was unreadable.

  “You’re free to talk to my father about the evolution you desire. I’m sure he would be happy to approve it even if we do not marry.”

  Elsifan took her shoulders. “Can’t you see? He’s too old, too set in his ways.”

  “He’s only twenty-five hundred years old.” She broke away from him, reaching for the door handle. “Let me talk to him tomorrow. But for now, I’m tired. Good night.”

  He covered her hand with his. “I am also tired, princess. I’ve been more than patient, but I want life to go on now.”

  “What do you mean?” She narrowed her eyes.

  He suddenly seemed to remember himself and stepped back, straightening his jacket. “Marriage. Children. Do you never want a life of your own?” At her silence, he cleared his throat. “Never mind. We’ll talk later. I bid you good night.”

  “Good night.” With a sigh of relief, Kiersten opened the door and slipped into her father’s chamber. She almost wanted to lock the door behind her, but told herself not to be ridiculous. Crime was unheard of in the kingdom, and she had no reason to distrust anyone.

  She crossed the floor to where her father sat in a chair beside the window. He’d fallen asleep, but she knew he’d been staring out at the stars. Her mother was out there somewhere, trapped on the other side of the closed portals. Her parents were a cautionary tale of why sometimes it was better not to mate.

  Sighing, she covered him with a blanket.

  Durstin expected the vision to end when she left, opening an adjoining door to go down a small, secret corridor into her own chamber. He stayed where he was, unsure whether to follow her. Something told him to remain.

  Moments later, her father’s door opened again.

  At first, he could see nothing, but then three elves appeared out of the shadows. And the leader was obviously Elsifan. Durstin got a bad feeling in his gut. The kind that spoke of murder.

  Surely Elsifan wouldn’t murder the elven king, would he? But even as he pondered the question, he already knew the answer. And he was probably correct. To Elsifan, this was probably the only way to get his hands on the crown.

  The three were swift and silent as they laid back their hoods.

  One raised his hands and branches from the vines outside came in, wrapping around the king’s limbs, pinning him to the chair.

  “Not too tightly,” Elsifan cautioned softly, “there can’t be any bruising.”

  He strode to the king, placing a hand on his forehead.

  The king awakened abruptly. “Elsifan? Liath? Sepheth?” He frowned, trying to rise before realizing there were vines wrapped around him. “What’s the meaning of this?”

  “I’ve waited for my kingdom long enough.” Elsifan’s eyes flashed with fury. “Eleven centuries, and yet you remain hale and hearty as if at the height of your power. I will wait no longer.”

  To everyone’s surprise, the king began to laugh. “This is absurd, Elsifan. If you murder me, none of the people will follow you. Even the ones who dislike me wouldn’t condone this type of usurpation.”

  “Don’t worry, they aren’t going to find out,” Elsifan replied smugly.

  “We can trace magic, boy. That’s what makes us elders.”

  “Not with the new magic I’ve discovered.”

  The king inhaled sharply, and the first hint of fear crept into his eyes. “So my daughter was correct. There is something dark about you. You’ve be
en playing with black magic.”

  “You thought you’d stamped it all out when the guardians disappeared, but you can’t stop the growth of magic. It’s the natural evolution of our kind.”

  “I agree. But not that type of magic. It is not an evolution, but a twisting of the soul. You may think you have the upper hand by using it, but it’s doing nothing but using you, eating you alive a little piece at a time.”

  Elsifan laughed, sending a shiver down Durstin’s spine. There was darkness in the tone, and behind his eyes. “I’ll deal with that when it happens—if it ever does. Until then, I’ll rule my kingdom as I see fit.”

  “And what will you do when my daughter refuses to marry you?”

  “She won’t refuse. There is magic for that as well. She will do my bidding, one way or another.”

  The king inhaled a second time. “You are more evil than I could have imagined.”

  He waved his fingers within the bonds, and the golden tree branches drawn on the walls suddenly came to life. The golden branches wrapped around the branches from the window, trying to tear them lose.

  Liath struggled to fight back with his own. But then the other one, Sepheth, shot a blast of darkness straight at the golden branches. They withered and turned black, fading back into the wall.

  The king struggled against the bonds, but there was nothing he could do. “Please don’t hurt my daughter. She’s all I have left.”

  “What you have or don’t have left won’t matter in a moment.” Elsifan put the other hand over the king’s heart for a beat before pulling back and drawing out a white light from the king’s chest that turned into a black fog in his hand.

  The king’s eyes opened wide and his breath rattled in his chest as Elsifan brought his hand to his own heart and the blackness entered him. He seemed to grow darker for a moment before slowly bleeding back to his normal appearance.

  Durstin was shaken. He had been a warrior, seen much in his battles against the Ardaks. But he’d never seen the very essence of a person ripped away from them. The cold, ruthless murder as well as the crazed light in Elsifan’s eyes shook him to his very core.

  The tree branches receded, and Elsifan straightened the blanket in an almost gentle gesture.

  Then the three elves crept out the way they’d come.

  Durstin stepped forward to inspect the body—it did indeed look as though the king had died in his sleep.

  His thoughts were brooding as the vision receded.

  Did Kiersten know?

  And if she didn’t, how the hell was he going to tell her?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kiersten

  The night was cool and dark, and the smell of blood was in the air. Kiersten first laid eyes on Durstin, huddled with several others behind a rise, blocked from view of the mountain, deep in conversation. The sound of spaceships coming in to land and taking off covered the sounds of their voices, so she crept closer. No one seemed to notice her.

  “It’s time to attack,” Durstin said, “before more of those beasts arrive.”

  “There are so many, I don’t know how we will stop them,” Queen Mirielle of Renwyn said. Aielle’s mother. There was also another elf she didn’t recognize, and Stephan. Suddenly, she knew exactly what night this was.

  It was the night after the Ardaks first invaded, when Queen Mirielle led a force from Renwyn to the Mountain realm. Durstin had joined her with his army, hoping to free Tordan and his people.

  “We don’t have to stop them. Let’s just rescue as many people as we can. They can have the mountain.” Durstin’s voice was fierce.

  Queen Mirielle nodded. “At this point, I believe that’s what we’ll do. If we go to the edge of the forest on this side, we’ll emerge close to the mountain village. If you can get the mountain people to the edge of the forest on that side, we can shield them while crossing the open plain to this side. I doubt the Ardak forces are ready for pursuit yet.

  “For the first run, I need the fastest of your warriors—those who can gather the mountain people on the other side and get them to the meeting point.”

  Durstin turned to Stephan, but his second in command had already gone for the runners. Minutes later, they returned. The elf she didn’t recognize had also returned with a team of twelve elves.

  “Are you ready, Aefin?” Queen Mirielle asked.

  The elf nodded, and Durstin turned to Stephan. “Just you and I are going to find Tordan and the rest? It means we can’t engage. We’ll stay hidden and find survivors.”

  Stephan nodded.

  The queen raised her shield and moved at a quick pace across the clearing. They were about halfway across the plain when a horrible, screeching cry split the night air.

  “We’ve been spotted,” Stephan shouted.

  “Let’s head for the trees.” Durstin pointed ahead.

  “No, we must go back,” Aefin argued.

  Then suddenly, the queen’s shield flickered once, twice, and failed.

  “What happened?” Aefin cried, raising his sword.

  Durstin and Stephan also pulled their swords. “What are you talking about?”

  “My shield went down. I don’t know why!” The queen examined the crystal, waving her hand in several patterns over it, obviously trying to raise the shield again. “It isn’t working.”

  “Retreat!” Durstin said, cursing as they began to run back toward their side of the forest, where the rest of the army stood ready.

  “Do you think the Ardaks can stop magic?” the queen asked as they ran, glancing across the plain at the advancing Ardaks.

  “I hope to hell not,” Durstin replied.

  Their focus was on the Ardaks to the left, but as Kiersten ran beside them movement in the forest ahead caught her eye.

  More specifically, the elf standing in the shadows.

  It was Elsifan, but that didn’t make any sense since as far as she knew, Garthurian had nothing to do with any part of the war.

  “Durstin,” she said, but he took no notice of her. They were getting closer to the forest, and she didn’t like the look on Elsifan’s face.

  “Durstin!” she called again, threading the Voice of Command into the call.

  Her husband frowned but didn’t turn his head.

  She lifted her hand in his direction, waving as much power as she could in his direction. “Durstin!”

  Durstin missed a step and almost fell, but his head turned in her direction as his gaze moved to the forest behind her and to where Elsifan hid in the shadows.

  Elsifan waved his hand once more and then stepped back behind a tree. A moment later, a blast of red light came across the plain from the Ardaks, and the queen stumbled before sprawling face-forward onto the grass.

  “Nooo!” Aefin screamed. “Mother!”

  Durstin picked up the elven queen and threw her over his shoulder before he sprinted for the trees, but Kiersten could tell that she was no longer alive. The queen’s magic had been snuffed out instantly with that shot, her eyes glassy and hard as she bounced lifelessly on Durstin’s shoulder.

  They reached the trees, and several elves were wrestling with Aefin, trying to convince him not to sacrifice himself for vengeance.

  The army had begun running toward them when the queen went down, the commander of the Renwyn army beside himself. “What the hell happened? I thought she had a shield!”

  They were all still running east toward his homeland and Renwyn.

  “Stop!” the elven commander called. “Healers!”

  An elf threw down a blanket and Durstin laid the queen on the forest floor. Three healers gathered around her, holding crystals. Two healers grabbed a hand each, while the other placed a clear crystal on her forehead and one in the middle of her chest.

  They worked swiftly and efficiently, but it was obvious to Kiersten that the queen was gone. They tried the Breath of Life, the Voice of Power, and several other spells, but they weren’t able to bring her back. It was also obvious to Kiersten that the magic of
the Renwyn elves wasn’t as strong as her own, but she didn’t think that even she could have brought the queen back.

  Durstin drew the elven commander aside. “Who was the elf in the woods to the right?”

  The elf frowned. “I don’t know—I didn’t see anyone.” He turned to several other warriors. “Did you see elves in the wood over there?”

  There were several murmurs in the negative, many of them scanning the forest with their eyes. “Would you like us to check it out, sir?”

  The commander turned back to Durstin. “Are you sure you saw someone?”

  “Yes. He was just along the edge of the trees over there.” Durstin pointed at where he’d seen Elsifan.

  The commander turned back to his troops. “Ryden, take your team and search for tracks. Find out who it was.”

  “Be careful,” Durstin warned, “I have a bad feeling about that elf. I almost wonder if he is why the queen’s magic failed.”

  The commander’s head snapped up in surprise. “I can’t imagine an elf who would want to betray us in this way. The queen didn’t have any enemies, and that blast looked like it came from one of the weapons the Ardaks use.”

  “Yes, but it wouldn’t have hit her if her shield had worked. It went down, and she couldn’t get it back.”

  There was a wail and they turned back to see that the healers had exhausted their abilities and given up on the queen.

  “Well, this fight is finished,” the commander said, loosing a birdcall that echoed through the trees. “The queen was right—the Ardaks aren’t pursuing us, but we need to get back home and get orders from the king before we proceed.”

  “What do you mean?” Durstin argued. “Our armies are here. We can still save some of them!”

  As he stood there, his eyes were bright, and she could feel his pain as if it were her own.

  “Those beasts didn’t follow us into the trees, but they will tell others. Our most powerful shielder was taken down in an instant. All of the shielders are working together, but none of us are as strong as she was.” The elf scrubbed a hand down his face. “I won’t give the order to go back in there until we’ve regrouped and discussed this with the king.”

 

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