Beyond the Four Kingdoms Box Set 1

by Melanie Cellier

  The young Eldonian royals were as cold as their kingdom. I had never seen either girl display anything I would consider an emotion. With my own eyes, I had witnessed Giselle fall, apparently to her death, in the Princess Tourney the year before. And yet neither her inseparable older sister, nor even Giselle herself, seemed in the least perturbed by the terrifying accident. Decidedly not normal. And I intended to find out why.

  When I was drafted into the Princess Tourney, along with my friends Lily and Sophie and all of the local princesses, I had been newly arrived from the Four Kingdoms. I had known no one from these lands, but I had made plenty of friends during the months of the Tourney. Emmeline and Giselle had not been among them.

  So it had shocked me when the sisters invited me to visit them after the Tourney ended. What could possibly have motivated them to do so? The whole thing smelled of adventure—and if there was one thing I couldn’t resist, it was the prospect of an adventure.

  Idiotic. That’s what I was, I reflected sadly as I watched the snow build up beside the road. Why couldn’t I have found an adventure somewhere with a warm climate?

  I had already put off the invitation until after Lily and Sophie’s joint wedding, remaining behind in Marin when Emmeline and Giselle returned home after the Tourney. And then my mother, along with one of my brothers and his wife, had sailed over from the Four Kingdoms for the twins’ wedding. They couldn’t sail home in winter, and my mother insisted I remain in Palinar with them for the duration of their visit.

  I think my mother was surprised at my acquiescence. My brother less so. At least once he heard the stories about the climate in Eldon.

  But, come spring, I had grown altogether tired of being back under my family’s wing and decided it was time to follow through on my promise to visit Eldon. It was spring, after all. How cold could it be?

  I shivered again, this time directing the grumbles at myself. I glanced at the girls across from me. How would they react if I made my complaints aloud? So far common courtesy had been holding me back, but my curiosity to see their reaction was growing by the minute. It was horribly tempting to see how far I would have to push to get a response from the detached princesses.

  I had actually been a little touched when all three of the younger Eldonian royals had traveled down from the capital to meet my ship at the port. Touched enough that I had even insisted on taking the front seat so that I faced backward, and they were both able to travel forward. But we had now been stuck in the carriage together for some time, and I could no more see a reason for their coming to meet me than for their making the invitation in the first place. They certainly weren’t expending any further effort to make me feel welcome. And Prince Oliver had managed no more greeting than a murmured “Princess Celine” and a head nod.

  My mother had wondered if the icy kingdom was hoping for a marriage alliance with my distant kingdom of Lanover. But after meeting the Eldonians at the wedding in Palinar, she had been forced to admit that neither the Eldonian delegation, nor Prince Oliver himself, seemed in the least interested in either the Lanoverians or me, their youngest princess.

  A pang in my right ankle made me scowl. The broken bone had healed months ago, but it still sometimes ached in the cold. An unpleasant reminder of the ordeal of the Tourney. My mother seemed to think the Tourney should have been adventure enough for her seventh child and couldn’t understand what pulled me to visit Eldon. But the Tourney hadn’t been my adventure. Not really. At least not after I had broken my ankle in the first trial. The Tourney had been the twins’ adventure, and I had been nothing but a burden on the eleven other princesses.

  At least my mother knew me well enough not to argue. With six older siblings, I had long ago determined to find my own path. I had always longed to get out of the shadow of a family full of far too many outstanding royals. My one fear had been that my mother would insist the Duchess of Sessily accompany me to Eldon. The older noble was far too canny for my taste, one of the few who could see through whatever scheme I currently had underway.

  But it seemed the duchess was needed back in the Four Kingdoms, so I had received a reprieve. I had been saddled with the usual collection of guards and maids and such, of course, but I didn’t mind them—none of them would attempt to manage me.

  For the first time ever, I was truly on my own. And I relished every moment of it. At least until a fresh blast of freezing air somehow swept its way through the carriage. Hopeless dreams of Lanover’s bright, sandy beaches filled my mind until a sudden lurch sent me tumbling off the seat and on to the two other princesses.

  The tangle of girls and rugs took some moments to straighten out, our efforts impeded by the strange new tilt of the now-stationary carriage. Emmeline was the first to free herself, moving over toward the door. But instead of opening it, she shifted back toward us.

  “Perhaps it would be best if we stayed in the carriage for now.” Her calm voice didn’t fool me.

  “What’s going on?” I finally kicked free of my rug and half crawled over to have a look myself.

  “It also might be wiser to keep away from the windows.”

  I ignored Emmeline, and she made no further move to stop me. The scene that greeted my gaze would have been accompanied by a great deal of noise in any other kingdom. But the coachmen, grooms, and guards all filed along in near silence, dropping their weapons in a pile in front of a masked figure. I pressed myself against the window to get a better view.

  We appeared to be surrounded by mounted, armed men. Only my own two Lanoverian guards looked appropriately horrified, but I could hardly blame them for falling into line. Our party was vastly outnumbered. For a moment I wished I hadn’t left the rest of my guards to follow with the baggage, but even their number wouldn’t have been enough to tip the balance.

  I scooted to the other side of the carriage, hoping to spot an opening in the circle of assailants. But, if anything, there were even more of them on this side, stretching out into some sort of field on the side of the road. Prince Oliver’s stallion danced uneasily, and the prince seemed wholly occupied in keeping the animal calm.

  I sighed. Clearly I could not expect any heroics from him. For the first time, real fear gripped me. Who would dare attack a royal carriage traveling the well-used road between the port and the capital? And what did they intend to do with us?

  I glanced back at Emmeline and Giselle sitting calmly on the carriage seat, despite the awkward new angle. A warmth ignited inside my chest, the pity that surged through me taking me by surprise. What could possibly have made them this way? They seemed more like empty shells than people.

  I looked back outside and met Prince Oliver’s eyes. He watched me without any sign of fear or perturbation. My pity transformed into something more closely resembling anger, and the spark grew into a burning sensation. If they had no care for themselves, they should at least have some concern for their guest, surely?

  If it was up to me to save myself, I didn’t know what hope I had against a large company of armed guards. Especially when they were mounted, and I was not. I had a small dagger hidden in each boot, but I couldn’t see what good they would do me. Reluctantly, I decided my best hope was to wait and watch for a better opportunity of escape.

  But, as I thought it, one of the attackers moved forward to attach a lead rope to Oliver’s mount. The prince’s calm acquiescence caused the fire inside me to leap into an inferno and, without thought, I thrust out my hands as if I could push the attackers aside from inside the carriage.

  A rush of hot air shook the vehicle, nearly toppling us all again. Outside, it looked more like a gale. Those on the ground stumbled, some falling, and the horses screamed and snorted as their riders desperately tried to control them. Some failed, and their mounts took off, scattering in all directions.

  A half-second before the unexpected gust, Oliver had looked up, his gaze meeting mine. And I could have sworn that as I thrust out my hands, something sparked between my eyes and his. For the first t
ime, a glimmer of warmth filled his blue eyes, lending animation to his pale face. But a moment later his horse reared, and I lost sight of his expression.

  The man holding the chestnut’s lead rope lost it as he attempted to control his own mount. When the prince’s stallion found his feet again, he charged forward. Again I couldn’t be sure in all the commotion, but it looked as if more than random chance directed the horse toward the newly opened gap in the circle surrounding us. The prince appeared to be actively guiding him as he leaped through and disappeared from sight. So there was some life in the prince, after all.

  For a wild moment I considered flinging myself out of the carriage and scrambling after him. But on foot I wouldn’t make it far, and already the gaps were closing as riders returned with their now calm mounts. One of the returning men focused his gaze on my face as I peered out of the window, and I drew back hurriedly.

  Retaking my seat as best I could since it still sat at an angle, I hid my trembling hands in my lap. The idea of escape had momentarily distracted me, but now my thoughts whirled back to the source of the sudden and violent wind. It had not been natural, that much was obvious. The temperature, even in the carriage, still lingered several degrees warmer than it had before.

  But that wasn’t what scared me. The timing on its own would have been uncanny. But it had been more than that. The moment I had thrust out my hands, I had felt the fire raging inside me rush down my arms and out of my hands to heat the air around me. And now, although the air felt warmed, my insides had returned to their usual cool state.

  My stomach roiled, to be sure, but it carried no unusual heat. It made no sense, and I couldn’t explain it, but I couldn’t help thinking that somehow that hot wind had come from me. When I thrust out my arms to push away our attackers, the air itself had moved to obey me.

  Chapter 2

  The carriage lurched, righted itself, and began to move again before my shock had faded enough for me to look around. Giselle watched me with a slightly puzzled look, while her older sister watched the riders outside our window.

  “Oliver seems to be gone,” she said.

  I nodded. “I think he escaped when…” My voice faded, so I put more force behind it. “When that wind hit.”

  “How strange,” said Emmeline. She glanced at her sister, the two exchanging a look I couldn’t read before subsiding into silence.

  I turned away to look out the window, not seeing the passing scenery as my thoughts swirled inward again. I wasn’t a godmother, of that I was sure. So the only way I could wield magic was through a godmother object. And unless a godmother had enchanted my gloves in secret, I had never owned such an item. Which made what had just happened entirely impossible.

  Or was it? I frowned, worrying at my lower lip. Enchanted objects were not the only gifts given by godmothers. One of my older sisters had unnatural beauty and intelligence due to her Christening gifts. The twins had also received a Christening gift from their godmothers, and while I didn’t know exactly what use their gift was, I had always suspected there was something strange about my two friends.

  After the debacle of my sister’s Christening, everyone had thought it best to avoid gifts at my own ceremony, so I had grown up without any direct experience with them. But just because godmothers traditionally seemed to give gifts such as beauty and grace, did that mean they were unable to give gifts of a more…active…nature?

  Perhaps it was possible, after all, for them to gift someone with the ability to wield a specific sort of magic. And I had, only recently, had a rather unexpected encounter with my own godmother.

  The memory filled my mind: a bright, celebratory scene. It had been Lily and Sophie’s wedding, during the feast, and her appearance had taken me by surprise. I knew that the darkness had been lifted from both Marin and Palinar, and that godmothers had been seen in both. But I would have expected to see the twins’ own godmother at their wedding, not mine.

  She had appeared from nowhere and pulled me into a large potted plant on the edge of the ballroom. Well, not into it, exactly, but close enough. My questions had been greeted with only cryptic mutterings, her one straight-forward utterance being to confirm my intention to travel to Eldon. She had then informed me that she wished to rectify the omission of my Christening and give me a belated gift.

  I had been excited about the whole thing, as well as intrigued. And it had made me even more interested in visiting Eldon since her question about the kingdom had been so pointed. But it had never occurred to me that her gift might grant me some sort of actual magical ability. And as the weeks in Palinar passed with no noticeable effect from the gift at all, it had faded from my mind.

  Now I struggled to even remember the exact wording of it. After some effort I managed to recall it. I grant you the gift of fire, she had said, to match that which already burns within you. May it light your way no matter how black the darkness.

  I had assumed she meant to give me some sort of extra perception or passionate focus. An added clarity of vision, or something like that. It seemed the type of thing the godmothers would deem important. I hadn’t expected it to mean I would be able to conjure hot gales with the power of my mind.

  I looked down again at my hands, scrunching my forehead as I concentrated all my will on them. The more I considered it, the more certain I was that the gale must have been connected to me and to my new gift. But with the wording I would have expected fire balls over wind. Perhaps I could…

  Nothing happened. I glanced at the carriage’s other occupants with embarrassment. Thankfully they couldn’t possibly know I had been unsuccessfully attempting to sprout flames from my fingers.

  I went back over the earlier events. Now that I thought about it, it had started not with my hands themselves but with the warmth inside my chest. I turned my attention inward but had no more success kindling an internal fire than I had an external one. After the minutes stretched out without success, I slumped back against the seat.

  It appeared I couldn’t control it, then. Too bad. I would have liked to greet whoever eventually opened the carriage door with fire balls. But apparently my gift—if that’s what it was—had more use for rescuing others than myself.

  The prince had yet to reappear, so I assumed he truly had escaped. I wished I felt more confident that he was doing something useful with his freedom.

  “We’re traveling west,” said Emmeline, breaking the silence of the carriage.

  I started and looked outside again—with some interest, this time. The capital lay north-west from the port. Further west, against the southern border with Eliam, lay large forested plains. At least we weren’t traveling closer to the northern mountains and their inevitable snow.

  “Perhaps the robbers’ hideout is in the forests, then,” said Giselle.

  “Robbers? Do you really think they’re robbers?” I asked.

  “But of course,” she said. “They certainly look like thieves.”

  I frowned. “Except they haven’t robbed us. They’re abducting us. If their aim was robbery, they could easily have achieved it back on the road.”

  Giselle blinked at me. “My father, King Leopold, has long pursued a band of robbers who are believed to make their home in the southern forests. I’m sure this must be them. They have simply stolen us rather than our possessions.”

  Now it was my turn to blink in confusion. Emmeline and Giselle were even further gone than I had thought if they viewed themselves as no more than objects that could be stolen in the same way someone might steal a jeweled necklace.

  “But…why?” I asked at last.

  “Ransom, I suppose,” said Emmeline. “Our father is known to have great reserves of gold and diamond mined from the northern mountains.”

  “He is?” I hadn’t heard such reserves talked of myself.

  Giselle shrugged. “They aren’t so very large, really. But you know how people are wont to talk.”

  “I…suppose.” Rumors of wealth did tend to become exaggerated
over time. But abducting four royals—including a visiting royal from a largely unknown kingdom—seemed a desperate course to take based on a rumor. Could it be the tales of my own kingdom of Lanover’s wealth that had tempted them? Perhaps I was the true target. But that still represented a desperate gamble since they could have no way to know if Lanover would respond with overwhelming physical force rather than payment. Based on the current state of things, I suspected Lanover could easily send a flotilla and overwhelm Eldon if it wished to do so.

  Of course, by the time they did that, who knows what would have happened to me? I had been relying on my hosts to keep me safe during my visit—a plan that seemed increasingly fool-hardy at this point. I looked over at Emmeline and Giselle. If we were going to get out of this, I suspected it would be up to me. I fisted my hands, disappointed at the frosty feel of my chilly fingertips. I could really do with some fire right now.

  “So how are we going to escape?” I asked.

  “Escape?” Emmeline frowned out the window. “I don’t see any way to escape. Perhaps an opportunity will present itself.”

  “In my experience,” I said briskly, “it’s best to make your own opportunities.”

  “You have a lot of experience in escapes, do you?” asked Giselle.

  “You’d be surprised,” I said wryly. I focused my eyes on the road outside which seemed to be curving slightly south. I’d managed to trail along for a fair number of adventures with my siblings. Only they always saw me as a child who needed to be protected. I straightened in my seat. It didn’t matter if Emmeline and Giselle weren’t going to be any help. This was what I’d wanted—no one telling me what to do or keeping me safe. I could hardly complain now that it looked like everything was going to be left up to me.