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War of the Realms Box Set

Page 47

by Sarah J. Stone


  “Well, I guess I should tell you a secret,” Leonetta said, looking up at Ardontis across the field. “Your father was not actually the man who created you.”

  “What?” The girl looked confused.

  “Your father was not actually a fae,” Leonetta admitted. “He was a wizard who had fallen in love with your mother.”

  “But only fae can make fae children,” Helena responded.

  “That is right,” Leonetta replied. “Your father was a very powerful and important Fae, who…”

  “My father was the king, wasn’t he?”

  Leonetta stopped for a moment and looked at Helena’s knowing face. “Yes, he was. How did you know that?”

  “He would visit me often,” she explained. “He always showed me a lot of attention and brought me sweets on a regular basis. When he would kiss my forehead before leaving, I could feel his energy, and it felt so much like my own.”

  Helena’s eyes filled with tears, and she leaned forward, hugging Leonetta around the neck. Leonetta melted into her baby sister, holding her close, knowing the anguish she was feeling all too well. Helena pulled back and wiped the tears from her face.

  “I only wish I had had the chance to know him better before he died,” she wept.

  “But he loved you, and you got to see that,” Leonetta said soothingly. “And now you have me.”

  “What about Asphodul? She was always kind of mean to me as a staff member,” she replied.

  “Well, right now we aren’t going to focus on Asphodul. We are going to focus on getting you trained and developing your skills,” Leonetta replied, brushing her hair from her face. “Does that sound okay?”

  “It sounds wonderful,” Helena replied with a smile.

  For the next several hours, Leonetta went through the basics of enchantments and pulling energy from one’s chest. She watched proudly as Helena was able to muster a simple enchantment, changing her shoes to boots with a wave of her hand. The excitement in Helena’s face was immense, and Leonetta could tell she was yearning for more and more as they went along. The next enchantment included her entire outfit, and as Helena brushed her hand around her with ease, Leonetta watched in shock as her entire outfit changed, down to the bow in her hair. It had taken Leonetta months of trying to be able to do something like that.

  “I want to try something that I was planning on waiting on until much later, but you seem so in tune with your magic that I am curious,” Leonetta whispered into Helena’s ear. “I want you to start by closing your eyes and finding your energy. You will feel it running through your body. Once you feel it, start to channel it toward your chest. As the energy pulls to your center, imagine you are on the defense, fighting for your life. Pull that energy from your chest into a small ball, and once in your hands, throw it at the imaginary target. Do you think you can try that?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Helena said, smiling as she stationed her feet shoulder width apart and closed her eyes.

  Leonetta stepped back and watched as Helena put her arms out to the side and took in a deep breath. She could see Helena concentrating hard, looking for that energy that surged through every fae. A small smile crossed Helena’s lips, and Leonetta crossed her arms, watching the energy bubble under Helena’s skin, surging toward her chest. For several moments, Helena gathered those vibes into her core, her concentration growing. Slowly, she pulled her hands in toward her breast and used her fingertips to pull the pulsating blue mist from her and form it into a ball.

  “Now throw it,” Leonetta shouted.

  Helena took in a deep breath and threw the ball as hard as she could toward the woods across the field. Leonetta and Helena followed the orb as it sailed through the air. Suddenly, a hand swiped across, knocking the energy to the ground where it dissipated and vanished. Ghede chuckled loudly, staring straight at Helena. Leonetta bolted forward, wrapping her cloak around Helena and transporting her to safety. Ardontis stood and stepped backward as Pike put his arm in front of the Faith. Pike gritted his teeth in anger as he clutched the butt of his sword.

  “We meet again, but this time, let’s see there is something so different about you,” Ghede said tauntingly. “Did you grow?”

  Pike threw the invisibility cloak over his shoulders, revealing the bright white fur. Ghede’s expression faded into a scowl at the sight of the Great Wolf’s pelt. He stepped backward, squinting his eyes as Pike moved toward him slowly.

  “Where did you get that?” Ghede screamed out, referring to the cloak.

  “The fae queen sends her regards,” Pike said, pulling the sword from his side and charging toward Ghede.

  “Stupid boy,” Ghede said through gritted teeth as he threw a black flaming orb at Pike’s face. Pike dodged the fire and stood back up, smiling tauntingly at the Dead King. As Ghede moved toward Pike, Drue transformed behind him, running at full speed and plunging his claws into Ghede’s back. He retracted and sped off into the distance at a speed Pike had never seen before. Ghede growled and turned back toward Pike, swiping his arm through the air, sending small spikes toward him. Pike knelt and allowed his power to surge around him, watching as the spikes hit his shield and fell to the ground. Ghede let out a loud roar and took another step forward as Drue’s wolf lunged again, swiping the back of Ghede’s legs before racing to the side.

  Pike watched as Drue stopped, a look of mischief and pride in his wolf eyes. However, as Pike turned to Ghede, he watched helplessly as the Dead King transported himself behind Drue, plunging his sword into the wolf’s back. Pike screamed out, but it was too late, and he saw Drue’s face turn from playful to shock in an instant. As Ghede pulled his sword back out, laughing, Drue dropped to his knees, the last of his life leaving his lips. Pike screamed out in anger, running toward Ghede, throwing bursts of red energy from his palms. Ghede’s smile faded as one of the bursts hit him in the chest, and he gritted his teeth before evaporating into thin air. Pike stopped in his tracks, looking around and realizing the Dead King was gone.

  Slowly, Pike walked toward Drue’s body, now transformed back to his human form, lying crumpled on the ground. The Wolf King dropped to his knees in front of Drue and looked at his hands covered in blood from the pool developing around the shadow bouncer. Pike put his hand on Drue and cried out in anger as Drue had been his only friend in this lonely human life. Leonetta appeared next to Pike and put her hands on Drue’s body, closing her eyes, trying to find any sign of life. As her eyes opened, a tear fell down her cheek, and she shook her head sadly at Pike.

  “He deserves a funeral of kings,” Pike said, holding back emotion. Leonetta smiled kindly and lifted her hands, starting the process. Pike reached up and grabbed Leonetta’s wrist. “But I promised him he would see glory, so I want to take some of his ashes with me.”

  Leonetta nodded in understanding and stood patiently while Pike searched his pockets for something to put the ashes in. He slowly pulled the leather pouch that the witch had given him from his pockets and dumped the contents on the ground. Leonetta gasped and pushed Pike back with one arm as the black pearled necklace fell to the ground, burning the grass around it.

  “Where did you get those?” Leonetta lifted them with magic but kept them at a distance. “That is the necklace of the dead queen.”

  “The witch in the Lisborn Forest gave them to me. I knew she had no good in her,” Pike said looking down at the bag.

  “No, with these pearls, I can make a cloak of distraction,” Leonetta replied.

  “What is that?”

  “It will help you maneuver inside of Pero Peaks without being caught. Ghede will not be able to sense you,” Leonetta said, taking the bag and lowering the pearls back inside. “She did do something kind for you.”

  For a moment, Pike wondered what had eventually become of the witch, but after remembering the red dragon and the screams, he could only assume she was no longer walking the realm. Leonetta put the pouch carefully inside of her cloak and turned back to Dr
ue. She waved her hand and watched as a necklace appeared in front of them. The long, slender tube was shaped like a sword and had a black cord for a chain. Pike squeezed it in his hand as Leonetta performed the burial. Drue’s body was lifted high into the air, wrapped in silver cloaking, and dissolved, returning his energy to the air and his body to the Earth. Pike stepped forward and reached out the tube, watching it fill with glistening ash. He corked it and put the cord around his neck, tucking the ash close to his heart.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Leonetta said when the rite was complete. “He was a brave soldier and an amazing friend.”

  “My wife is dead, isn’t she?” Pike turned toward Leonetta and studied her face.

  “I don’t know the circumstances of your wife at this moment,” Leonetta replied, a kind look on her face. “But we must hope that our loved ones are safe and taken care of.”

  “The Dead King has taken my wife, my mother, my family, and now my friend,” Pike said through anger. “He will not only die, but he will watch the ones he cares for perish alongside him.”

  Leonetta swallowed hard, as she could feel Pike’s anger float through the air like a mist. His powers were ever increasing, and it wouldn’t be long until she could no longer hold him back. As the two stood in the cold air, they looked up at the sky, snowflakes beginning to fall. The cold and ice were here, but they weren’t ready for what was to come.

  Chapter Fourteen: The Frost Ceremony

  Asphodul’s hands swirled around the solid block of ice, and she watched as the magical mist carved and chipped away. She stood back from her masterpiece and grinned, watching the ice sparkle in the sun, the shape of the symbol of the fae pronounced and proud. Suddenly, Asphodul’s face turned from happy to fearful as she watched the podium catch fire, her ice sculpture melting to the ground in a puddle. She looked up from the pool at her feet and gasped, throwing her arms up as Ghede reached for her.

  Asphodul sat straight up in her bed, breathing heavily with sweat pouring down her forehead. She looked around the room in panic for the Dead King but realized it was just a dream. She looked down at her hands, wondering why they would still feel as icy as the statue she carved, quickly noticing the snow falling to the ground. She jumped from her bed and raced to the window, a feeling of excitement brewing in her chest. On the eve of the first snow, the Vale always held the Frost Ceremony where they welcomed the change of seasons and set forth positive energy for the approaching winter. It was a festivity full of food, warmth, and laughter, something Asphodul felt everyone could use a little bit of these days.

  Quickly, she waved her hand over her body, producing her working dress and comfortable shoes. She had a lot to do to get ready and was pleased that something had come about to take her mind off the horrible things that had become a normal occurrence in her life. She pulled on her warmest cloak and swung her door open, stopping suddenly and gasping at the appearance of her husband, Tyriad, in the doorway.

  “You scared me,” she said, laughing and holding her chest. “I was just going to prepare for the Frost Celebration.”

  “I thought you might want to do that, which is why I came to wake you. The staff has already started to pull the décor down,” Tyriad said, stifling a chuckle. “It will be good to give you something festive and happy to focus on.”

  “Yes, by all means, entertain the mad queen so she doesn’t hurt anyone or herself,” Asphodul scoffed angrily.

  “That isn’t what I meant,” Tyriad said, stepping in front of her so she couldn’t walk from the room. “We could all use a little happiness in these dark days.”

  Asphodul’s stance softened, and she looked up at Tyriad who she had forgotten she had missed so much. She smiled kindly and reached for his hand, watching as he pulled back and stepped to the side. Her smile quickly faded, and she pushed back the tears pulling at her eyes. She gazed up at Tyriad with anger and stepped forward.

  “I heard a rumor you are sending troops to Pero Peaks,” she said, walking out of the doorway and turning to him. “Do you really think that wise?”

  “The king always thinks things through. Don’t worry yourself over the details. Enjoy your celebration,” Tyriad said before shutting the queen’s chamber’s door and walking away from Asphodul.

  The queen walked down the lonely halls, looking out at the garden that was still blooming in fall colors. She did not get to enjoy the fall as she hoped, but she was more than happy to cover the gardens in frosty delight. Every year, she waited for the Frost Ceremony, especially as a child, since it was the only time her mother would let her openly and strongly use her magic on kingdom grounds. Asphodul sighed, thinking of her mother and father, wondering where their energy had traveled. As she rounded the corner into the Hall of the Dead, she stopped, smiling at the staff who were bustling around, carrying all the décor previously packed away.

  The smell of cinnamon wafted through the castle as the kitchen had started working at the first sign of the white powdery wonder falling from the sky. There would be cakes, roasted meats, pies, and every kind of baked fruit imaginable. It was a festive night regardless of the other happenings, and Asphodul couldn’t wait to celebrate, with or without Tyriad. She rolled up her sleeves and began sifting through the decorations, lifting one long tapestry from the group and looking down at it with tears in her eyes. It was the family drape and had been added to every year by the queen. The patch sewn on it would signify both triumph and tribulation that the kingdom had seen since the last snow.

  She quickly balled the tapestry up, grabbing scissors, yarn, and scraps of fabric as she raced to her room in the high tower. She had not been there since she gave Leonetta the cloak but she felt like it was time she reinvented the space. It was a safe and wondrous room filled with all her most prized possessions. Asphodul felt she could use a place like that in the current royal climate. Slowly, she climbed the stairs, excited to enter the room and begin working. She slowly cracked open the door and stood there, staring in shock. The fabric fell from her hands, and she raced down the steps, fear surging through her chest. As she rounded the corner, she ran straight into Tyriad who could sense her urgency. He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked down at her in worry.

  “What is it? What have you seen?” Tyriad assumed it had been a vision.

  “My room at the top of the tower…” Asphodul cried out. “Everything in the room has been turned to cinder!”

  Tyriad looked down at Asphodul before placing his hand on his sword and racing up the steps. He took two steps at a time, wondering how they could have missed something so close to the main corridor. As he reached the top, he slowed, peering into the room. Asphodul raced up behind him, breathing heavily, her face freezing as she looked inside.

  “I don’t understand,” Asphodul said, walking into the room and picking up some of her trinkets. “I was just here, and it was all cinder.”

  Tyriad dropped his hand and stared at Asphodul with a look of sadness on his face.

  “Tyriad,” Asphodul cried out in frustration, “I swear it. There was nothing here but ash.”

  “After dinner, I will have the doctor come and speak with you,” Tyriad said sadly. “Until then, work on your tapestry and try to stay out of the way. We have many people coming to the castle tonight. It’s important that you look the part of the queen when they arrive.”

  “Tyriad!” Asphodul cried out as he turned and walked down the stairs.

  The queen looked down at the crumpled tapestry, trying to understand what just happened. Was she going mad? Was there an enchantment on the castle? She shook her head as she unfurled the cloth and laid it on the table. She turned and grabbed the bottle of ink, dropping it as she looked down at the patches. In the space left for this year’s patch was the symbol of the Dead King burning into the fabric. Asphodul grabbed the scissors, tears running down her face.

  “You will not defeat me,” she said angrily as the scissors cut through the fabric. “I will not be
turned into a crazy queen.”

  She took the patch of the Dead King and tossed it out the window, watching as the snow magically evaporated the fabric as it had never been there. Asphodul looked out over the fields as the sun peeked through the clouds. The Wild were huddled together in a ring of wet grass surrounding them where their heat had melted the frost. She took a deep breath and shook her head, heading downstairs to continue helping to get the event going.

  As the sun began to set, the guests could be seen crossing the gorge over the magical ice bridge Asphodul had enchanted. They gasped in excitement at the décor – some magical, some not – that draped throughout the entire castle. Trees were lit brightly with sparkling orbs, the garden was transformed into an ice rink, and inside the dining hall, enchanted snow fell from the ceiling, disappearing as it hit the low dim of the lights below. There were festive wreaths hung high on the walls, and the table coverings were made of enchanted cloth morphed to look and feel like the Great Wolf’s fur. It was truly a sight to see.

  As dinner was presented, the king and queen gave their prosperity toasts before being seated, quickly letting go of each other’s hands. Asphodul looked around the room as the staff served the royal family, watching the children running in and out of the castle while the elders talked excitedly and enjoyed the food. She turned to watch Tyriad as he picked at his plate, his mind obviously preoccupied with other things. Asphodul looked down at her food, gasping and standing from her chair. The room went quiet as the guests stared up at the queen. She squinted her eyes, watching as maggots crawled across her plate, falling to the floor below. She rubbed her eyes and looked again, realizing there was nothing there other than delicious roasted pork and cranberries.

  “A spider,” the queen laughed, letting out a deep breath as the rest of the guests roared alongside her. She glanced over at Tyriad who looked at her with anger, not understanding what was happening to her.

 

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