"The Power Within (Chapter 3)" by Alicia Hansen

Arhynn reined Storm to a stop as he caught sight of the winged shaped in the cloud-strewn sky above. He knew he was easily visible to the Windracer and felt a desperate hope that it was Tallavor up there. He refused to allow his fear to show to Tyara; she had enough troubles already. Far more than he, though he had inherited a few just by being with her. Tyara had spoken no more of the night before, and Arhynn followed her lead on the matter.

The wyvern spiraled downward toward them and Storm whickered. He did not like the wyvern. Arhynn raised a hand in greeting to the rider and the beast folded its wings, then spread them again. It was Tallavor. The wyvern settled onto the dusty ground and swished its long, whip-like tail as Zachai Tallavor climbed down from his saddle. “What are you doing here, my lord?” he asked without preamble.

Arhynn glanced back at Tyara, where she sat patiently in her saddle behind him. He turned his attention back to Tallavor and saw the desired response in the man’s face. Tallavor’s jaw had dropped and his blue eyes bulged. “Fah-junneh has ordered me arrested for treason. I ran.”

Tallavor recovered himself quickly. “Did you commit treason?” He avoided looking at Tyara, eyes focused on Arhynn’s face.

Arhynn snorted. “Of course I haven’t committed treason. I will appeal to Fah-junneh after I’ve learned what that was all about. And, after I take care of another matter.”

Tallavor shifted his feet and his eyes darted around. He yet avoided looking at her, as though by ignoring her she would simply disappear. His wyvern echoed his anxiety and the wolfish head atop the long neck swayed as it rumbled a low growl. Tallavor patted the wyvern’s chest and the creature dropped its head to rest against his chest. He turned his gaze to the ground and ground his teeth together. “So you were right then. About what Latyssa hunts. The Princess Tyara lives.”

“Aye. And the dragons have no need to call another heir. As long as I can protect her. Latyssa’s Hunters are getting closer, I fear. But we have to make it into Burant. We have to succeed. She has to take the throne.”

“I have to do no such thing,” she snapped from behind him.

Arhynn whipped his head around to stare at her. Tallavor appeared even more anxious than before. Arhynn stumbled over his response. “But . . . of course you do. Why do you think we traveled here?”

“To rescue my brother. Then we’re going home. Someone else can take that throne. I don’t want it.”

“But . . . but . . . you’re the heir. The dragons will not call another as long as you live.” Arhynn scowled at how she held her chin. She may have been raised somewhere else, but she held herself in a regal, queenly manner. Burn me, but she’d make a fine queen. Arhynn forced the thought away. “Anyhow, that can be discussed later.” He turned back to the Windracer. “I need your help now, Tallavor. More than ever. I need your help and support. Latyssa captured a young man.”

“Yes.” Tallavor’s tone said he’d rather be saying nearly anything else. “Rumors say he’s the sister of the princess. Some rumors, anyway.”

Arhynn expected her to reply to that, but she said nothing. “You already pledged your loyalty to the Dragon’s Heir, Tallavor. Have you changed your mind?”

Tallavor’s head shot up, his spine rigid as an iron rod. His eyes blazed. “I serve the Blood to the end.” He pressed his left fist to his right breast. He bowed himself formally, dropped to one knee, fist still in place, and fixed Tyara with a hard gaze. “I am yours to the death, my lady, my queen.”

Arhynn risked a glance back at her and was surprised that her cheeks had gone crimson red. He surreptitiously motioned Tallavor to his feet and the man rose without question. “Can you help us?”

Tallavor hesitated, then nodded. “Ride to Hamath. I will have a friend meet you there.” Tallavor cast a quick glance up to his wyvern. “Keep low. He will show you the path to ride undiscovered to Burant. I cannot help you in Burant, my power there is not enough.” He rested his right fist on his sword and saluted Arhynn. “May the Flame light your way in safety, my Lord Magistrate Arhynn.” He proffered another formal bow, then swung atop his serpentine wyvern. The beast spread its massive wings and took to the sky.

“Which way is Hamath?” Tyara asked from behind him.

Arhynn pointed to the west. “That way. It’s a small place, but its far enough away from everything that no one from Burant pays them too much mind. If there’s anyplace to meet someone who doesn’t want to be seen, it’s there. We should be there by tomorrow afternoon, I should think.”

Tyara grumbled something under her breath, something about the slow pace of horses. Arhynn didn’t ask for clarification of her musings and nudged Storm down the rocky path. Little prickly shrubs sprouted from among the red-hued boulders, more gray than green. He could feel more than see a viper curled up behind a rock three strides from him. He moved Storm around the snake and slipped into silent musings.

“Do you know who this friend is?” Tyara asked into the quiet.

Arhynn scowled at the ground in front of him and didn’t spare her a glance. “No, I don’t. I would assume it’s someone in Tallavor’s network who helps provide information. Maybe it’s someone from the Flame Citadel who can help us when we reach Burant.”

“So is Burant her capitol?”

Arhynn barely stifled a sigh of exasperation. “Yes, it is the capitol of the Realm of Flames. It has always been home to the Dragon’s Heir. Always.”

“So what happens if I don’t take the throne?”

Arhynn rolled his eyes and urged Storm to a trot. If only he could, he would have abandoned her days ago. He launched into a careful explanation.

Latyssa strode down the dark corridor. The only light available came from the torch carried by the soldier striding along in front of her. She could hear the soft whimpers of prisoners on either side and paid them no heed. None dared to beg from her anymore. “Where did you put him?” she snapped at the soldier. “At the very back of the dungeons? Hurry on, fellow. I can hardly stand the stench.” She would have had the boy brought directly to her, but she had another idea, one that would only work if she paid him a visit here. She could bring herself to do that,  for a few minutes anyway.

“Here he is, my Queen,” the soldier said as he turned to face her and bowed deeply. One of the guards from behind Latyssa rushed forward to unlock the metal gate that served as the door. The light-bearer stepped in just before her. His light illuminated the boy’s form huddled on the floor, curled into the fetal position.

Blood had dried along his lip and chin and he bore visible bruises along his face and arms. Latyssa could care less if there were more hidden beneath his filthy clothes. “Have you thought more on my proposal?” she asked in as polite a tone as she could muster.

“Screw you,” he snarled in a raspy voice. Despite his beatings, his eyes shone with malevolence, full of such fury that Latyssa almost shrank back.

She steeled herself and stepped forward, more to prove to herself that she could. “Suit yourself, Joshua. I thought you might decide to go the easy route, but . . .” She shrugged her shoulders and clasped her hands in front of her. “Never you mind, anyway. My men have already found your sister. She is on her way here now. I’m thinking that perhaps we should have you cleaned up before she sees you.” Latyssa offered a soft chuckle and smiled at the boy. He shrank back, brown eyes still full of venom. “That way all that blood of yours will at least spill onto nice, clean clothes.”

He did not show one speck of fear at the thought of dying. “You haven’t found my sister,” he said, a tight smile appeared on his blotchy face. “If you had, you certainly wouldn’t had come down here to speak with me. Just kill me now, see how much I care.”

A guard slipped around Latyssa and landed a hard cuff across the boy’s face. “You will show your queen the proper respect, pig!”

Joshua spat a mouthful of blood. “She’s not my queen.” If anything, the intensity of his eyes increased. He focused his cruel gaze upon Latyssa. “You’ll never find Tara. Never. She’s too smart for you.”

“Pity you weren’t,” Latyssa replied. She glowered at him for a few more moments, then turned. She could feel his eyes like a dagger between her shoulder blades. It took all of her self-composure not to shift underneath that intense gaze. The guard locked the door after she had retreated back the way she had come. The stench of the place made her stomach twist within her and she lifted her chin yet higher as though she could escape it that way. I will make that boy bow to me yet, she thought to herself. He will learn who his master is now. Back in the guard room, the bulky man behind her replaced the keys on the peg they hung from. Every guard and soldier bowed deep as she swept her gaze around the room. She settled on a skinny guard who looked as though he’d never seen the sun in his life. His eyes burned with fierce loyalty to her and he had proven time and again who he served. “Bring me a goblet of his blood,” Latyssa said in a quiet command. She lifted her hand and a golden goblet appeared, resting on her palm. The cup was fairly shallow and the base of the goblet matched the width of the cup. A single ruby had been cut to a small rod length and served as the handle. The ruby caught the flickering torch light and seemed to draw it within itself. “Make sure the cut doesn’t kill him,” she added with an arched eyebrow as Ammon took the goblet with a deep bow. “And be quick about it, mind! I have things I need to be about!” It was time she settled this once and for all. By fortnight, Joshua would do anything she asked of him.

Jace gave a start as a tiny dragon burst to life in front of him. The thing could have mirrored a true dragon from everything Jace knew of the incendium drakes. The little creature rolled itself into a ball in the air before him, it’s green wings flapping to keep it aloft.  “You are to go directly to Hamath to meet a friend of Windracer. You will know him when you see him.” The creature disappeared in another ball of flame and Jace scowled at the place it had occupied. The Windracer he received information from had never provided Jace with his name, but he had never ordered Jace to do anything either.

“My Lord Ambassador?” asked the captain as he heeled his horse alongside Jace. “We think we may have found their tracks. It appears they headed to the Realm of Flames through the Mountains of Fenra. A dangerous route, Fenra.”

“Good, good,” Jace muttered. Hamath was a little village a little ways south of the Fenra Mountains proper. The land between Fenra and Hamath was only slightly less mountainous than the Fenra Mountains. He narrowed his eyes. Why would the Windracer want him to meet someone there? No one goes to Hamath. It’s too out of the way to be of any importance . . . He shook his head and booted his stallion to a trot. The captain matched his pace easily. “Though the Mountains of Fenra, eh? Now why would the good Magistrate be headed that way?” Odds are he found the princess and plans to help her regain her Realm.

“I . . . Well . . . I don’t know, sir. That’s just where the tracks we think might be his lead to.” The captain looked a little flustered, but he recovered quickly. “I’ve already sent five scouts along the path. With any luck, we can catch him before he leaves.”

Jace snorted. Luck? Is there any such thing? “Good job, Captain. Remind your men that if they see him, Magistrate Arhynn is only to be brought safely home.” The captain gave Jace a reproving look before he caught himself and turned his gaze to the blue sky. “Do you think you can handle things here for a few days? I’ve just received orders that I am to be elsewhere.” It wasn’t quite the whole truth, but they were orders, even if they weren’t given by one in authority. “I’m trusting you with this important task, Captain.”

“I can take care of things.” The man sat straighter in his saddle. “We will find Magistrate Arhynn and get this whole mess sorted out. We need him here.”

“I’m sure you do,” Jace muttered as the man angled away from him. He headed south. He booted Odin to a gallop and bent reality around him to quicken his journey but not take him directly there. Odin’s hooves thrummed against a ground that flashed past Jace so quickly he could make out nothing except green and blue blurs that quickly changed to gray as they sped through the mountain pass. After an hour’s run, Jace canceled the spell and let Odin cross the remaining distance to the small hamlet of Hamath. The town was full of homes built from stone slabs. Many had roofs of merely more stone or clay. As afternoon approached and the heat built, people began to gather outside their homes to perform their daily chores. A small inn stood at the center of the town as though it were Hamath’s pride and joy. Gray stone covered the lower level of the two-story home. By the build, Jace could tell some of it was still supported by wooden beams imported from elsewhere.

People stared at him as he slowed Odin to a trot. The stallion’s hooves kicked up a cloud of red dust that hung in the air behind him. He offered a quick grin to Jerom Dyger, the keeper of the inn. “You have a spare room, old friend?”

“For you, always, Ambassador,” the man replied with a smile. His face was deeply tanned and lined with many wrinkles. He looked far older than he actually was. Jace swung down from the stallion’s back and let a small boy lead Odin around back to the stables.

“I’m meeting some friends here,” Jace said. “It’s real important. You know, hush-hush kind of stuff.”

The man chuckled as he led Jace inside. “Old friend, with you everything is hush-hush.” The interior was quite a bit hotter than outside. It opened into a small dining area with four tables, each surrounded by six chairs. They’d never needed more room in this small town. Jerom’s plump wife stood behind a counter wiping glass cups. She offered Jace a cold smile and stalked from the room, rag and mug still in her hands. Jerom cleared his throat. “I guess she still hasn’t forgiven you for that thing last time you were around.”

Jace shrugged and dropped himself into one of the stout wooden chairs and propped his feet up on the table. “That’s okay. I mean, I guess she has a right to be mad. Anyway, can you have that boy bring my belongings up to my usual room? And set aside another room, my tab.”

The man ducked his head in a slight bow and hurried away. Jack rocked back on the chair and worked his way through his thoughts. He would have no way of knowing how far away this “friend” was or how long he’d have to wait. He nodded his thanks as Jerom set a mug full of a frothy ale in front of him. Hamath may have been a small village, but they were well-known for their ale. “Hey, Jerom!” he called as the man moved towards the door. “How hard would it be to get a fine lady’s dress around here?”

“Well, Zarine down the street makes some fine silk dresses. She usually sells back to the merchants that pass through. You meeting up with a lady friend here?” The man’s eyes said he would not approve of such a thing though he would voice nothing to Jace.

“To be honest, I don’t know.” Jace let the chair fall to all four feet and dropped his own feet to the floor. “By the Phoenix’s Flame, I hope not. Burn me, but I hope she’s not coming here.”

Jerom looked as though he wanted to ask something, but he clamped his jaw shut, nodded to Jace and left the warm inn.

Later that afternoon, Jace walked down to Zarine’s and bought a dark green silk dress worthy of the Ivory Palace by its beautiful work as well as several plain but well-cut woolen dresses. He paid Zarine, returned to the inn and, after a hearty supper provided by a sulky hostess, settled down for bed. Jace didn’t bother to change out of his clothes, he merely stripped off his boots and plopped onto the feather mattress. Morning came swiftly and heated up just as quickly. As Jace ate his breakfast, he kept a close watch through the windows for any sign of the arrival. He was feeling anxious to return. To take the edge off, he spent several hours grooming Odin after breakfast before he returned to the inn for a little lunch. Jace had decided he ought to settle down for a nap when he saw a red cloud of dust hanging in the air a ways out. He moved back down to the common room and had Nami Dyger leave him two mugs of ale. She did so, glowering as hard as her blue-gray eyes would allow. Jace offered her his roguish grin and raised a mug of ale in salute to her as she stormed out. He drank slowly and waited. After awhile, the front door to the inn banged open and in strode a dusty and disheveled Magistrate Arhynn.

Jace sloshed ale down himself that he had been attempting to drink before the magistrate distracted him. Arhynn’s eyes settled on him with that strange expression he wore far too often. Jace wanted to squirm under that gaze that seemed to know too much, but forced himself to remain still. “Magistrate, how good to see you. Won’t you join me for a drink?”

Arhynn hesitated, then stepped in and sat down across from Jace. He stared at the mug as though it were full of poison, then turned his gaze back to Jace. “Can you get into Burant without being seen?”

Jace scoffed. “Of course. With and without magic. Why?”

“Because that’s where we’re headed.”

Jace managed not to slop down himself again as he carefully set the mug down and eyed the magistrate. Arhynn’s blond hair looked darker with a hint of red from the dust that had settled over him. His clothes looked as though he hadn’t changed in at least a week. “We?”

The door opened again and in strode a girl with a bundle under one arm, and a pair of saddlebags under the other. She ignored the men at the table as she trotted to the staircase and hurried up. Nami Dyger trotted up after her without a glance spared in Jace’s direction.

Jace turned back to the magistrate and cocked his head. “Do I dare ask who that is?”

“Do you need to?” Arhynn countered in a cold voice. He would not play any games he did not have to.

Jace shifted his weight and downed the rest of his ale. “You know, you can drink up, Magistrate. Nothing but the finest Hamath Ale. So, tell me truthfully, is it you I was supposed to meet here?”

“Don’t think that I like this any more than you do.”

Jace grunted. He doubted the magistrate could hate the situation more than him right now. “So I’m supposed to get you into Burant, obviously without magic. You are skilled enough at magic. Why Burant? What do you plan to accomplish? Dethrone Latyssa?” Jace chuckled and leaned the chair onto its back two feet.

“Something like that,” Arhynn mumbled, his cold gaze still on Jace.

Jace let his eyes wander back up the stairs the girl had disappeared. From the corner of his eye, he could see Arhynn tense as though ready to leap to her defense. Jace turned his gaze back to Arhynn. “I can get you into Burant, alright. And I’ll do it, if only to keep my informant. Once we’re in there, don’t expect one scrap of help from me, though. You got that?”

“Oh, I got it all right.”

A shriek sounded from upstairs. “Get out! Out! I said out!” Something crashed and Nami came trotting back down the stairs moments later, her face red with fury and a bundle of dirty clothes in her arms. She focused a glare on Jace as though whatever had happened was his fault and she disappeared back into her kitchens again.

“Sounds like you’ve got a feisty one upstairs,” Jace said with a sly smile. “There’s clothes waiting for her, too. I figured you guys wouldn’t have much to travel with. Mistress Dyger would have helped her with it, but I wouldn’t count on that anymore.” He hoped Nami hadn’t heard him or he would never get another decent scrap to eat here no matter what he paid. He grabbed the mug Arhynn refused to touch and took a deep gulp.

Arhynn shifted his gaze back up the stairs and offered no comment. “She has to be kept safe.”

“Hey, I understand. No one likes his girl being hurt.”

“She’s not my girl,” Arhynn snapped, a growl to his voice. He turned an unmistakable glare to Jace. His gaze drifted away as quickly as it came and he muttered to himself, “She’s driving me crazy.”

Jace pretended he hadn’t heard and took another drink. “Well, I can arrange for us to sleep here tonight. There’s only two rooms, though, and I don’t share. You and that girl will have to work something out. We’ll leave by sunrise, so you be sure you’re ready.”

“I’ll be ready. Sleep well, Ambassador.” Arhynn strode up the stairs without a glance back.

Tara scowled at the dress that lay before her before she pulled it over the thinner under-gown. She strained behind her to reach the rows of buttons and grumbled to herself as she struggled to force the tiny buttons through the even smaller holes. That woman had taken off with all her clothes with no explanation! Tara grunted and pounded the bed with a fist. Despite her fury with the dress, she felt much better having sat in a large metal bucket full of lukewarm water with a bar of stinky soap. She had at least been able to scrub all the dirt and grime from her skin and rinse her hair somewhat. “But this stupid dress . . .”

The room she paced was a small room with a large bed taking up most of the space. A small table held a cracked pitcher and bowl of red ceramic. There were no other furnishings in the room. The bed, at least looked comfortable, but she couldn’t lay down until this stupid dress was on! She had no intention of Arhynn walking in on her and thinking things he shouldn’t. She knew she was modestly covered, but she doubted he would agree by the customs he had been raised by. She grumbled to herself again and tried to reach around for another attempt at the buttons. “These people need to invent a stupid zipper!”

“What is a zipper?” Arhynn’s voice asked from the doorway.

Tara squeaked as she whirled around to face him. “Don’t you know how to knock?”

“I did knock. I guess you couldn’t hear over your complaints.”

Tara shot him a sour glare and wrapped her arms around herself. “Well, would you please leave?”

He shrugged and strode in. “Not much choice in the matter. This is the only room left.”

“Then go with that other guy.” Tara received her first glare from Arhynn.

“I don’t think so,” was all Arhynn said as he sat down on the bed. He kept his gaze away from her as though aware she wasn’t quite finished with her dress yet.

“If you think that—”

Arhynn looked at her. “I get one pillow and all your blankets. I’ll sleep there.” He pointed to the far corner away from the door and the bed.

“Oh.” Tara turned away from him and stared out the window. The glass was swirled and made a dizzying blur of the outside. “So who was that other guy?”

“Do you need help with those buttons?” Arhynn asked instead.

Tara turned another glare on him. “No,” she snapped. “I can manage just fine.”

“Perhaps I should bring Mistress Dyger to assist you. Those little things would be hard to reach from behind anyway.”

“No,” Tara said quickly. “Not her. I don’t think she likes me much.” She shifted her feet. “I’ll get these stupid things eventually. Maybe I should just chase down my clothes she took. She had no right, you know. She just took my . . .” Tara trailed off as Arhynn stood and approached her.

“Turn around.”

She stared hard at him, then did as he asked. He quickly did up the buttons down her back. She tried not to fidget and stepped forward as he finished. “Thanks,” she muttered, her gaze intent on the wooden floor boards.

“You’re welcome. His name is Jace Trev. He is an Ambassador of Fah-junneh.”

“Is that good or bad?”

Arhynn grunted as he poured some water into the bowl and splashed it upon his face. “At any other time, I would have said bad. Apparently, he’s the one who’ll lead us into Burant.”

“Will he help me save Joshua?”

“According to him, no.” Arhynn shrugged and glanced at her. “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, though. I’ve heard a few good rumors of him. Not many, but a few.”

“How long will it take us to get to Burant?”

Arhynn must have heard something in her voice because he stopped cleaning his skin and lowered his head. “Longer than you’d want to hear. I wish we could afford to go faster, but we cannot risk Latyssa learning you’re there before we’re ready. We can’t. If she learns that, she’ll have you. She’ll slay Joshua and me, unless she’s got other ideas in mind.” Arhynn turned a hard gaze to Tara. “I’d rather die at her hands than anything else she might think up.”

Tara thought he shivered as he rolled up his sleeves to wash his arms. “Maybe I should go down—”

“No,” Arhynn said quickly enough to make her jump. “No. I fear Jace may know more than he’s supposed to already. Please. I don’t trust him enough to allow him near you without me there.”

“Well, can we risk saving time covering some of the distance to Burant?” Tara asked as she kept her gaze on the hazy glass. “I mean, not all the way or anything, but some parts of the way? Would that be possible?”

“It might be. We’ll just have to see after we get started. Tyara, we will find your brother.”

“Tara,” she corrected.

“We will find Joshua. We will.”

Morning came early. Arhynn almost felt it was too early, but the slight lightening of the room told him to get up and get everything ready. He gathered the spare dresses Jace had provided and made another bundle, wrapped in a cloak to keep them clean. They may yet have use for the green silk dress. If not, Arhynn figured he could sell it for some money to help Tyara and him on their way. He rolled the blankets he had used together and winced as his muscles protested his bed over the night. The pillow was nice, but dirt was softer than a wooden floor, Arhynn decided. When everything was ready, he gently woke Tyara and ushered her outside.

Tyara looked less than pleasurable to be awake before the sun had crested, but grogginess kept her tongue silent as they readied their horses. With everything secure and the horses ready to go, Arhynn glowered at the entrance to the barn as he wondered where Jace Trev was at. The man can’t even be on time when he sets the time! Arhynn leaned against Storm’s shoulder and crossed his arms over his chest. This is going to be one long trip.

Tyara plopped herself down in a pile of hay and glared at everything around her, except her horse.

After several roosters had awaken and begun to crow, Jace Trev came out. His walk held that usual saunter of his as though he had not a care in the world. He had a bundle tossed over a shoulder and began to saddle and bridle his horse. He made no move to hurry despite Arhynn’s and Tyara’s combined glares. He swung atop his stallion and cast a smug look down at Arhynn. “Well? What are you waiting for, Magistrate? Let’s go.” He booted his pinto stallion out of the stable at a trot.

Arhynn rolled his eyes as he swung into his saddle and waited for Tyara to mount before they followed. Jace wouldn’t leave them as he threatened for the same reason he had come here to meet Arhynn, whatever that reason was.

Jace led them along a path close to the ground where large outcroppings could shield them from unfriendly eyes. The path wound like a snake along its course and the heat of the day built quickly. Soon Arhynn’s shirt was soaked to him.

“So how long is it going to take to get there?” Tyara demanded of Jace. She rode between Arhynn and Jace. Her stallion shook his mane and snorted.

“Well, you can plan on about three to five days. Assuming we don’t get stopped or holed up somewhere.” Jace’s voice held his usual smugness and he didn’t bother to glance back. Arhynn suspected the man could feel Tyara’s gaze boring into his back.

“Can we make it without getting stopped? Can we hurry faster?”

Jace chuckled. “Sure can hurry faster. The faster we go the more likely we get caught. The slower we go, the less chance of getting stopped somewhere we don’t want. But, by all means, let’s quicken the journey.”

“No,” Arhynn said in a firm voice. He offered a tight smile at Jace’s glare. “We can’t risk being found.”

“No,” Jace mumbled in a sarcastic tone as he faced forward again. “Of course we can’t risk getting caught.” His voice lowered so that Arhynn couldn’t make out his rumblings. “We’ll be at the Firestar River by nightfall. We’ll make camp there.”

“You don’t plan to walk the main road into Burant, do you?” Arhynn asked, his eyes narrowed.

Jace scoffed. “Of course not. I’m not that kind of fool. If you want, though, I could probably locate a route where we’d been seen by far more Flamesmen than anywhere else.” Jace cast Arhynn a smirk. “Quit worrying Magistrate. Once we reach the Firestar, I can get us into Burant completely undetected by anyone who works for Latyssa. Oh, you may want to keep a close eye out for Windracers in this area. It’d be a bit unfortunate to get caught by one of them before we’re even a day into our journey.”

“We’re already five days into the journey,” Tyara growled. “Just since I met up with him.” She jabbed a finger back towards Arhynn. “It’s been almost two weeks for me so far.”

“That long, huh?” Jace answered without a glance back at her. He sounded as though he could care less and Arhynn scowled at his back. “Well, you needn’t get your knickers in a knot. We’ll get there soon enough.”

“I think your definition of ‘soon’ varies quite a bit from mine,” Tyara grumbled.

The afternoon passed slowly, by Arhynn’s standards. The day got only hotter as they progressed through the quiet desert land. They saw a variety of desert life, long-eared skinny rabbits and lizards that matched the red-hued rocks perfectly. Arhynn even caught sight of a few deer by late afternoon. Before the sky even began to color for the sunset, they came to the Firestar River. By Arhynn’s opinion, the little trickle of water did not deserve the name river. The water wouldn’t cover Arhynn’s entire foot if he stepped into the two-foot wide creek. Round pebbles of a variety of colors lined the streambed.

Jace pulled his red and white patched stallion to a stop and swung down. “This is it. Come on. Let’s settle in.” He pulled a bundle down from behind his saddle. “What food do you have?”

“Not enough,” Arhynn growled as he dismounted and let Storm amble to the Firestar. “This is a river?”

“Well, yeah . . . It is a desert here, you know.” Jace shook his head and gathered some loose shrub branches to build a small fire. “This will have to go out at sundown.”

Tyara remained in her saddle as she watched them. Though set in a dark scowl, highlighted and deepened by the firelight, her face reflected both anger and worry. Long black hair was tied behind her head to keep it out of her way. The wool dress she wore was plain, a blue-tinted gray color, but on her it looked beautiful. The neckline, though not low, highlighted a silver necklace that glittered in the sunlight. Her green-eyed gaze was harder than Arhynn had remembered.

“Some river,” Arhynn muttered as he pulled his own bundle down from behind Storm’s saddle. He removed the dapple’s saddle and the stallion shook himself as he wandered away. “So how exactly do you plan to get us into Burant, Ambassador?”

Jace cast a wary glare at him. “Why? You don’t trust me?” Jace scoffed and seated himself before his meager fire.

Arhynn sat down across from him and stared hard. Jace shifted underneath his gaze and after a few moments, sighed. “Fine, Magistrate. We’re headed to Magoma.”

“Magoma?” Arhynn repeated. He felt his heart rate pick up. “Are you insane?”

“No, Magistrate, I’m perfectly sane. You don’t want to be seen. Where else can we travel to the capitol herself without being seen? We have to go beneath the surface!” Jace shook his head and pulled out a knife to clean his fingernails. “I can’t imagine how you’ve managed to survive all this time,” he grumbled to himself.

Tyara sat down next to Arhynn, her gaze still hard. “Where’s Magoma?”

“Its beneath the Fenra Mountains,” Arhynn answered, his gaze intent on the flames and not her.

Jace straightened across from them. “It’s the fastest way. I’m telling you. The only other way we can hope to not be see is to leave the horses and spend the next several days moving from rock to rock and shadow to shadow just hoping and praying we don’t run into anyone. I’m telling you, the fastest, easiest and safest way will be through Magoma.”

Arhynn glared at him but didn’t say anything.

Tyara sighed. “Well, if it’s faster, it’s faster. We’ll go that way.”

Arhynn dug out some dried beef from one of his saddle bags and gnawed on the smoke-flavored beef. The sky grew golden as the sun disappeared behind the serrated mountain crests. As the sky grew darker, Jace kicked dirt over the fire and Arhynn found himself a spot to lay down.

“Leave plenty of blankets,” Jace said. “It’s gets cold by morning. Real cold.”

Arhynn nodded without comment and laid down.

Tara stared into the empty fire pit. She didn’t feel any better now then she had before. They seemed so sure Josh was in Burant, but what if they were wrong? What if Josh was somewhere else? What if she never found him? What if—?

Tara cut off her line of thought and drew up her knees to rest her chin atop them. The days seemed to be growing so much longer as they slowly cut her off from the life she’d been torn from. She caught sight of Rusty where he stood next to the pinto stallion. She still worried about her horse, but he seemed to be keeping up. She inspected his legs every chance she got to make sure there was no swelling, he only seemed tired. Not as tired as me, old boy, she thought.

Jace Trev lounged across from her as he worked something with his hands. He seemed enthralled in whatever he was doing. His red-brown hair was longer than she preferred in men, about three or four inches. Rather than looking shaggy, like most, he pulled off an elegant look with a few strands loose over his forehead and the rest brushed back. He was shorter than Arhynn, though still a good hand’s width taller than her.

Tara shifted her gaze to the sky. She had always enjoyed stargazing, though the sky was foreign to her now.

“You shouldn’t stare so hard, looking for things that aren’t there.”

“How would you know what I’m looking for?” Tara snapped with a sharp glare at him.

Jace studied her, unperturbed by her glare. He shrugged. “Rumors. Guesses. Theories. How does anyone know anything?”

“That’s a stupid answer,” Tara grumbled to herself as she turned her gaze back to the ground.

“I think it was a stupid question,” Jace replied.

Tara glared at him again, but found him studying her with a passive face. “What?”

Jace’s gaze shifted to Arhynn’s sleeping form and he chuckled. “I never would have expected such a thing from him, you know. Leaving everything he knew, leading you this far. You’re lucky to have his support. I hope you know that.”

“I thought you didn’t like him.”

Jace snorted and shifted his position. He set down whatever he had been working on, though Tara couldn’t make out what it was in the dark of night. “I don’t like him. We never got along. Arhynn believes in doing things by the book. Always doing things right. Me . . . I believe differently. I guess that’s why I’m here.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I met Arhynn a long, long time ago. He kept getting me into trouble.” Jace chuckled. “You know, though, I respect him. I may not like him much, but he’s a good guy. He really is.”

“That’s good to know,” Tara grumbled to herself.

Jace rolled onto his back and settled down as though readying himself for sleep. “You need your rest. You’ve got to be able to keep up, you know.”

“I’ll keep up. I’ll keep up at whatever speed you guys can manage. I want to get there.” Please, Josh, be there! Be alive and be okay! She laid her head on her knees and slipped into deep thought.

Tara jerked awake when a hand touched her shoulder and nearly fell over. The sky was beginning to turn gray as the sun prepared to rise up again. Arhynn handed her a water bag. She drank deeply before she handed it back and pushed herself to her feet. Jace was already astride his pinto stallion and the stallion danced, anxious to go. Arhynn’s gray dapple was saddled and ready and someone had saddled Rusty for her. She pulled herself atop her stallion and fell in behind Jace as he led them across the Firestar River. The morning passed in silence, she too tired to start conversion and the men ignoring each other as much as possible.

The trail Jace led them over began to grow rough as it wound between rugged rock outcroppings. Rusty stumbled often as they tried to cross on large stones. A short while after the sun rose, Jace ordered them to dismount as he led them into the mouth of a cave in a mountainside. Tara would not have noticed the shadowy opening had Jace not pointed it out. She did not like the thought of the darkness that would envelope them inside. Jace led his horse in first and Tara followed hesitantly. She glanced back once to make sure Arhynn was still behind her. The light from outside did not stretch very far into the interior and soon Tara was leading her horse more by feel. Rusty calmly followed her without even a nervous whicker. Tara followed the sound of hooves in front of her and placed her feet carefully. She longed to see something, anything, to know that she stood on solid ground. The unknown of what might be around her gave her chills. The air grew cooler as they traveled deeper.

“Are you certain you know where you’re going?” Arhynn asked from behind Rusty.

“Of course I know where I’m going,” Jace snapped in reply.

Arhynn grumbled something and a light came to life above them. It wasn’t too bright and Tara had no need to shield her eyes, but it offered enough light to see where she walked and a little of what surrounded them.

“I thought you meant no magic at all,” Jace growled with a glare back at Arhynn.

Tara wasn’t sure she wanted to know how such a light had been made. She looked over the strange rock outcroppings that surrounded them. Many were round forms, created by dripping water, though quite a few more had a chiseled look as though cut by someone.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Arhynn muttered from behind Tara.

She made no comment as they picked their way along the path. As she looked at the ground, she knew it was a path, worn by many feet before their own. She narrowed her eyes and looked again at another rock with chiseled edges. She felt more chills crawl down her spine and knew they were not from the cool air. “What lives down here?” she asked. Her voice seemed to resonate all around her and she wished she had spoken softer.

“Dwarves. The little people,” Jace replied with a quick glance back.

“A big mistake,” Arhynn muttered again.

Tara glanced back at him but he offered no more information to her silent question. “Dwarves? As in short people, hairy faces, miners of the earth?”

“Do you know any other kind of dwarf?” Jace countered. He attempted to take the sting from his words with a big grin.

Tara glowered at him and didn’t answer. She clung tight to Rusty’s bridle as she led him forward. The stallion’s nose brushed her shoulder often. “How dangerous are they?” She waited while neither man replied to her question. She glowered harder at Jace’s back over his horse. She knew if she directed the question to Arhynn, he’d answer immediately. You led us into this mess, she thought at Jace, and you’ll answer my question. “Jace Trev, answer my question.”

His shoulders hunched as though he had been hit. “Well, see now, that depends . . . on quite a few things.” He glanced back at Tara, a tight smile on his lean face now. “They may not be fond of human authority, but they know where authority lies. We’ll be okay. We will.” He picked up the pace a little.

Tara had caught the little break in his voice at his assurances of their safety. She scowled. She wanted more of an answer than that, but she doubted Jace would tell her more. She turned with the intention of asking Arhynn when the sight of firelight broke her off. Arhynn had stopped a few steps back and waited for the newcomers. They came from behind and Jace muttered a few curses. Tara turned her glare to him. “Let’s see if you were right, Jace Trev.”

His shoulders hunched forward again.

Tara could not see the dwarves over Arhynn and his stallion, but the light approached Arhynn and came to a stop. A deep, bass voice resonated through the caves around them. “Who trespasses the Mines of Magoma? Who dares encroach upon the Dwarven Realm?” The speaker spoke with a drawl on most of his words, but a quick clip on all hard consonants.

Arhynn held his head high as he watched the speaker. “I am Magistrate Arhynn. I travel with Ambassador Jace Trev. We are here as an escort.”

“An escort to whom?” the deep voice demanded in rough tones. “Stand aside, human. Aside, I say.”

Tara glanced behind her in the hopes Jace would do something to ensure her safety and saw another group waiting there. Arhynn stepped aside and pulled his stallion aside so that Tara could see the speaker and his surrounding men. There were eight of them, with large axes either in their hands or on their backs and bedecked in shining armor. The speaker was the tallest among them, at just under four feet. His face was hidden beneath a long beard of curly brown hair and only clear blue eyes could be made out over a bulbous nose. His axe hung across his back and he had a large dagger on his belt with a gem in the pommel that caught the firelight in brilliant green. Tara stood firm and forced herself to remain calm under the searching gaze.

The dwarf’s blue eyes went wide and he stumbled backwards with his companions. “You!” he half growled, half cried. “How dare you come here! Miyari!”

Arhynn stepped in front of Tara. “Stand aside now.”

“Hold!” Jace’s voice called from the front. “Hold, Master Khorag. For the peace of the Flame, hold!” There was a soft scuffling sound. “Unhand me, already. Do it, I say!” He came pushing around his stallion to stand beside Arhynn. “She is not who you think she is, Master Khorag.”

“Burn my beard if fishes do fly!” the deep voice spat in reply. “We do not allow humans to travel—”

“Master Khorag, you have to let me. If I ask for passage, you must grant it.” Several moments of silence followed Jace’s statement with only the sound of boots shifted on stone. “You also must allow the Dragon’s Heir to pass unmolested. If you wish to contest that, I can make certain Fah-junneh learns of it.”

“There will be no need for that, Ambassador,” the dwarf replied, his deep voice obviously flustered, “but she is no Heir.”

“She is the Heir,” Jace insisted. “This is not Latyssa. Take a good look for yourself. You are required to allow her safe passage.” Jace stepped aside and Tara met the dwarf’s eyes.

He grunted and crossed his arms over his stocky chest. “You do be right, Ambassador.” His blue eyes narrowed. “I may be required to allow you passage, and her, but not him. He’s no master of mine.”

Jace laughed as though he saw a joke in the statement no one else did. “Of course he’s not, Master Khorag. His father was.”

The dwarf’s eyes narrowed yet further as he turned his blue-eyed gaze to Arhynn. Arhynn never flinched beneath the gaze and after a few moments, Khorag grunted sourly. “Be quick about your business, humans. We do not like your kind around here.”

Jace led them onward down the path. The dwarves that had blocked his way stepped aside to allow them to pass by. Tara tried not to look at the hard faces but she could feel each set of eyes upon her. Arhynn’s light remained above them as they moved and a group of dwarves remained far enough behind to follow.

“How’d you know?” Arhynn demanded as soon as they were out of earshot of the dwarves.

“How’d I know? It’s simple reasoning really. Besides which, she looks like her mother. I couldn’t have mistaken her for Latyssa though. She doesn’t have that . . . I don’t know. That cold-heartedness. She just doesn’t have that. From there, it was simple to figure out she was—”

“About me,” Arhynn growled.

Tara suddenly wished she was not sandwiched between the two men. She had never heard Arhynn’s voice so full of anger. He was far past the point she had often pushed him to when feeling frustrated. She gulped hard and tried to move closer to Rusty as though he could protect her.

“Oh.” Jace sounded almost as worried as Tara felt. “Well . . . everyone knows about your father . . . You know . . . He’s a legend.” He shrugged and risked a glance backwards. He locked eyes with Tara for a moment before meeting Arhynn’s gaze. “No one who works near Fah-junneh cannot not know about your father, man.”

Arhynn harrumphed but said nothing more as he glowered at the floor.

Tara swallowed again. “Jace,” she asked softly, “how long have you know about me?”

Jace chuckled and cast her a quick grin. “I figured it might be you before you came walking up. Just a guess, mind you, but a pretty good guess, eh? Like I said, you look like your mother.”

“Then why didn’t you ever . . . Why haven’t you . . . ?” Tara couldn’t bring herself to voice the question. She still wasn’t certain she believed what they said of who she really was. Her mind screamed at her that it was impossible.

“I’ve worked around nobility long enough to realize when someone doesn’t want the recognition.” Jace led them down a steep incline. “But, you know, we’ll be in Burant soon enough. Then you shall get your throne.”

“It’s not a throne I want,” Tara muttered as she kept her eyes on the path they tread upon. “I want my brother.”

“Your brother?” Jace sounded more surprised than she had heard him before. “What brother? I didn’t know you had a brother.” He glanced back but avoided Arhynn.

“Does it matter what brother?” Arhynn snapped from the back. “The poor kid was caught by Latyssa. He’s the reason we started this quest in the first place.”

Jace said nothing in response.

The ground continued its downward slope, though it didn’t steepen anymore, for which Tara was grateful. It was taking a lot of effort to keep her pace at a walk on the slope and she didn’t dare try to move faster. The sound of trickling water caught her attention and she felt a few drops fall on her from the distant ceiling. She looked upward but could no longer make out the ceiling beyond the light provided by Arhynn. The ground leveled out and Tara could see something sparkling to her right. To their left, a rock wall rose upward and out of sight. Tara stepped off the path between two stalagmites and she found herself in front of a waist-high rock wall. Inside, water that appeared almost fluorescent green sparkled under the light. She could see strange creatures shifting about and realized the pool was a lot deeper than what it appeared. She shuddered and stepped back. Arhynn had paused, waiting for her, though Jace was still ahead. Tara took Rusty’s reins again and hurried after Jace.

The trek continued in silence for what had to have been several hours. Despite her worries, Tara enjoyed the underground scenery they passed. It had an almost magical appearance, but it was so familiar to places seen at home that it did not feel as foreign as many other things. At one point, she spotted a colony of bats hanging from some low formations and figured there were probably many more higher up. The small black shapes were wrapped in their wings, fast asleep. After awhile, Jace stopped them for a quick lunch. They ate in silence and rose to their feet again.

Tara glowered at nothing in particular as she gazed around her. Things only seemed to be growing more tangled and confusing. She longed to sort everything out, for problems to stop lashing out at her. More than anything, she wanted to be safe at home with Josh.

Corryn rubbed his shoulders in a vain attempt to stem the itch. He cast a wary glance up and down the busy street but could see no sign of trouble. Shopkeepers busied themselves opening their shops and displaying their wares. Signs that lined the narrow street depicted everything from a saddle maker to a cobbler to a swordsmith. People bustled down the street, most with downcast eyes and weary expressions. The vibrant colors that Corryn remembered had been replaced with drab woolens of grays and browns. He stifled the deep remorse for his people and tried to work out his plan. After so many years away, he no longer knew who was still around. If only Julian were here. He shrugged his shoulders underneath the coarse wool coat.

Corryn followed the street down to a familiar sign with a needle and thread in red and blue paint hung from the side of a run-down two-story building. The shopkeeper had not yet opened her doors, but Corryn rapped his knuckles against the wooden door.

The door opened a crack and Corryn could see a narrowed eye peering out at him. “Go away.”

“I need to speak with Mistress Lilytha,” Corryn said before she could slam the door. “Please.”

After a few moments, she relinquished a sigh. “Come in. Be quick about it!” After Corryn stepped in, she took a careful survey of the street before she shut the door and secured metal locks. The woman was old, her back hunched. She could no longer walk straight. Her gray hair was gathered in a bun at the top of her head but strands of hair went every which way. “What do you want?”

“You don’t recognize me?” Corryn smiled at her puzzled frown. “Well, I guess it has been some time . . .”

“My lord,” she breathed as she hastily dropped a clumsy curtsy. “You’re not dead. You’ve returned—”

Corryn held up a hand to forestall her rambling. “I wasn’t the king. I was the first prince. No, I never died and yes, I returned.” He cast a quick glance to the curtained windows but could see nothing beyond the pink flower-embroidered cloth. He dropped his voice lower. “I need to patch back together my eyes and ears.”

The old woman scoffed as she shuffled from the front room. “I think most of your network is dead or imprisoned, dear boy. They were too big a liability to her.”

By the emphasis on the pronoun, he knew she meant Queen Latyssa. Corryn sighed as he followed her. “I was afraid of that. I didn’t know who to turn to. I just saw your sign in the street.” He pulled out a straight-backed wooden chair from the round table and sat down.

“Why are you back? Why now? Why not fifteen years ago when everything began to get out of hand?” She dropped into a chair across from him and studied him with a cold gaze that hinted of buried anger that had festered over the years.

Corryn cast another wary glance around the small kitchen and eating space. All the windows here were covered as well and the back door bore four metal locks. The small house had the look of someone afraid of being hunted out. He turned his gaze back to Lilytha. “I didn’t return because I had to see to the safety of the princess. She had to survive.”

“So the child lived?” Lilytha’s question sounded more like a breath of relief. A smile spread across her face at Corryn’s nod. “The child lived. She is not the queen. When will the child return to take her throne?”

Corryn winced. “I’m afraid that’s where it gets complex. I wasn’t ready to bring her back yet, but Latyssa’s Hunters found her. She and a young man are both in mortal danger.”

Lilytha’s face dropped again. “There are rumors of a young lad held captive in the citadel’s dungeons. No one really knows why. There are many rumors, but all are very different.”

“Has anyone seen the boy? What does he look like? Is he still alive? Are there rumors about the princess?”

She just shook her head at each question. “That . . . that . . . scum brought the boy in with Latyssa’s favorite Hunter, Mandor. A stableboy told me that much. He was in good enough health at the time.”

“Where’s the stableboy?”

Lilytha shrugged her blocky shoulders. “Haven’t seen him for over a week. Maybe she’s arrested him too.”

“Well, I don’t know who Mandor is. Never heard of him. Who’s the scum?” A face suddenly flashed into Corryn’s mind and his eyes narrowed. “Temnys Kantil?” Lilytha nodded and Corryn felt chills race down his spine. If Latyssa has bought Kantil’s loyalty, Tyara is in more danger than I first thought. If he serves her now . . . By Lilytha’s wide eyes, he knew the furious expression on his face and struggled to wipe it away. “Who would know if the princess has been found yet?”

“That would depend on who she wants to know. My guess is that it would be very few people. The only way to know for sure would be to get you within the citadel. Then you could find out if that boy is the one you’re looking for.” Lilytha pursed her lips and stared hard at Corryn. “You’d need a disguise though. Many may have forgotten the face of the king, but she certainly would still remember. She would recognize you.”

Corryn nodded. “I thought of that already.”

Lilytha rubbed her chin and studied Corryn, her head cocked. “Well, I suppose I still have some contacts. One of which is a Carekeeper in Verrin by the old inn.” The old woman shook her head and dropped her gaze. “I can’t risk contact. You have to go yourself. Out the back door, not in the way you came. Don’t go straight to her, that’ll make them suspicious. Go to a few other places first. Try to lose them. Make it seem like you went for something else. Don’t let them—”

Corryn placed a hand over her hands she had clasped together on top of the table. “I will be careful. There is too much at stake for me to be careless now. Verrin. Is that where the old inn, the Raining Roses or something, is at?”

“The Morning Rose,” Lilytha corrected. “The Carekeeper is four houses south on the same side of the road. A little blue building.”

Corryn nodded and rose to his feet. “Thank you, Lilytha. May the Flame of Truth light your way.”

“And you yours.” She didn’t rise as he let himself out the back door. He could hear her replace the locks as he paused for a few moments to make certain the coast was clear. He crept behind several buildings to come around the side of a blacksmith shop where a heavy-set man with no shirt pounded a piece of orange metal with a large hammer. The streets were still full with downtrodden people making their way about their everyday lives. He chewed on his lower lip and pretended not to study them as he threaded his way through. If only you knew, he thought. If only you knew hope rested on the horizon. How much difference would it make? He had never been king over this people, but he had loved them as much as their king had. Corryn dropped his head and wished he had a cloak to hide himself under, but in the heat of the day that would have been too suspicious.

He shook his head and muttered under his breath. No one paid him any mind. He passed little shops and houses, the paint cracked and peeling on every building, as he wound through the streets as though in search of something. He passed many wagons and carts that showed their wear and usage. Many people wore clothes in dire need of mending, and quite a few children sat naked on the corners with wide eyes watching everything. His heart ached at the sight of the slat-ribbed children. He came to Verrin, an area of Burant a little more upscale than Domna, where he had left. Many buildings still showed wear, but a few signs hanging over doorways had been freshly painted and Corryn saw no naked children here. He caught sight of Flamesmen on patrol through the commoners of Burant, their blood-red tunics and polished helmets made them stand out like a white horse in a herd of deer.

Corryn forced himself to breathe evenly and keep his eyes adverted. The soldiers pushed past him without a second glance and it took nearly all of Corryn’s self-control not to heave a sigh of relief. He kept a close eye on the signs. There were many inns in Verrin and many appeared to be in good repair. He spotted a sign that bore a rose the color of blood nestled on deep green leaves. Rays of sunlight burst around the rose and the words in a rolling script read “The Morning Rose.”

Corryn followed the street down to find a trim sky-blue house with a white door. A sign nailed to the building next to the door showed a pair of hands holding a smaller pair of hands. Corryn knocked on the door and stepped inside at the responding answer. The front room was just as neat and tidy as he had expected from the exterior. She had two well-carved chairs from what looked like expensive wood that sat against the far wall facing the window. Lacy curtains were drawn across the window, thin enough to let in plenty of light but thick enough to stop unwanted eyes. A short table sat between the two chairs and it had a large vase full of flowers sitting upon it.

A woman bustled out from around back. Her graying hair was gathered behind her in an elaborate braid that wrapped her hair on her head. She wore a simple dress of blue with a clean, white apron. Her face showed her years, but her bright eyes held a grandmotherly look. She smiled at him and motioned him to sit in one of the plainer chairs near the door. “How may I help you, dear?”

“Madam Lilytha told me I could come to you.”

Her eyes tightened at the mention of the name. She rose to her feet and hurried into the kitchen. “Some tea, my dear? You must be thirsty. It is awful hot and dusty out there.”

“No thanks, mistress Carekeeper.”

She poked her head through the doorway. “Are you feeling all right? Faint or feverish? My herbs will cure the most wretched thing bothering you.”

“Perhaps I will have some tea. Thank you, mistress.”

She returned a few moments later with a large tray. She set the tray on the small table and poured him some tea in a small porcelain cup with pink roses painted around the edge of the cup. He took the cup and watched her carefully. She watched him just as carefully with a smile twitching her lips. She took no sip of her own drink. “Perhaps I might have your name?”

“I fear a name might be too much to give.” Corryn could smell the sweet minty scent from the tea but waited yet for her to take a sip first. Can’t be too cautious . . . He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I was told you could help me. I need to get into the Flame Citadel.”

She watched him for what felt like an eternity before she tilted her head back and laughed. “I can help you get in? Dear boy, whatever gave you that preposterous idea?”

Corryn caught her eye and stared hard. She paused and studied his face. Abruptly the cup slipped from her hand as her hands darted to cover her mouth. “My lord,” she whispered as she looked over his head out the curtained window.

“I need to get into the citadel, madam. It is urgent. My success will bring this noble people back their pride. Can you help me get in?”

“Where . . . where have you been? All this time . . . believing you were dead . . .” She shook her head and her eyes fell to the broken pieces of glass on the wooden floor. “Oh, dear . . . I need to clean this up. Excuse me. My home must be clean for you.”

Corryn sighed as she hurried from the room and returned with a broom to sweep it behind the door. “I need to make certain she won’t recognize me,” Corryn said softly when she sat down again. “It is vital.”

“Yes. Of course. The Queen mustn’t know you’re alive. She mustn’t.” She shook her head and seemed to come out of her short reverie. “Follow me. I’ll see what I can do.”

Gavin Syranna scowled at the massive wyvern atop the tower. The red-skinned creature gripped the stone parapet in the strong talons of its two feet. A downy mane of black followed its spine and created a bushy mane of fur at the base of its neck. It kept its wings fanned out as though ready to take off at any moment. A tall, lithe man slid down from the creature’s back and Gavin repressed a shudder. He couldn’t imagine laying on the back of such a beast and flying it through the skies. “What news have you, Windracer?”

The man compressed his lips into a minute frown. “Magistrate Arhynn is in the Realm of Flames. He is headed towards Burant.”

Gavin’s eyes bulged and he felt as though his stomach had fallen to the floor. “Is he insane?”

The man shrugged and shifted his feet. He cast an anxious glance around as though worried someone would spot him here. He shook his head, but said nothing.

Gavin bit back a curse and leaned over the parapet. He rested his elbows on the hard stone and stared over the ocean, his back to his guest. “Does he think he can get the princess her throne back? Does he really think he can depose of Latyssa and put the child on the throne?”

“I would hardly call her a child,” the Windracer replied in a cool tone. “She is to be queen. As for Arhynn’s plans, I don’t know. I didn’t ask. I can’t know.”

“No,” Gavin muttered, “I suppose not. What other news have you?”

“Ambassador Jace Trev also travels with them.”

Gavin overcame his surprise more quickly this time. Arhynn had dropped much on him in a rather short period of time. No one ever said the boy wasn’t skilled, he thought with a grimace. “Now, why in the Flame of Light would Fah-junneh’s Ambassador travel with Magistrate Arhynn to return a lost child to her throne? What would he have to gain from that?” Jace Trev was not a man who did things for free. He scowled at the thought of the man; he had never liked Jace Trev and his arrogant manner.

“Because I asked him to, that’s why. Why did you summon me here, Magistrate Gavin?”

“Have you heard any reports of any other member of the royal family returning from the dead? Connor or Corryn, perhaps?”

“No, my lord.”

Gavin turned to eye the Windracer carefully. Zachai Tallavor was a clever man, perhaps too clever. Gavin could see in his eyes that Tallavor had not told him everything yet, but he was confident that the Windracer had shared everything that concerned him. “Then make certain that no one else does. Especially Latyssa.”

The man bobbed a quick bow. “If that is all, my lord . . . ?”

Gavin waved the man away and turned away so he wouldn’t have to watch the stomach-wrenching sight of the beast leaping from the tower. He caught sight of a bird soaring towards him. Mostly blue, the bird had highlights of reds and greens and yellows. It had a long tail fanned out in flight. The bird lighted upon the parapet and stuck its leg out. A small parchment had been wound around the bird’s leg. When Gavin did not removed it immediately, the bird squawked and nipped his arm. Gavin yelped and retrieved the message. The bird took off again without awaiting a reply. Gavin eyed the parchment carefully. He didn’t know why, but he was afraid to open it. He feared the message that might be awaiting him from within.

Gavin heaved a deep sigh and broke the wax seal. Inside was the flowery script that could only belong to a woman, though the style itself was unfamiliar. The words were quick and to the point, unusual for most women: Everything is close to completion. Your part is yet required. Do it. Sadari

Gavin crumbled the paper into a ball and caught it on fire. He dropped the flaming ball off the tower and watched it disintegrate in the fall down. He ground his teeth together and threw up the hatch door. He stormed down the stairs with as loudly stomping feet as he could manage without hurting himself. In the corridor, two guards awaited him. Both men’s faces paled as they watched him descend. They executed hasty bows before the higher-ranking officer spoke.

“My lord, King Dalric wished to see you immediately. The king says that it is urgent, my lord.”

Gavin motioned him to quiet down and stormed down the hallway to Dalric’s office. He paid no heed to the statues and paintings he passed. He didn’t even look out the carefully placed arched views and ignored those who offered him elegant bows.

The king’s office was several floors below Gavin’s with a more panoramic view than Gavin would have ever want. Two walls opened onto semi-circular balconies. A few chairs were set on each balcony for when the king wished to sit outside.

Dalric sat in deep conversation on the northern balcony. His guest was hidden behind a fluked column. A strange plant had been carved at the top of the column where it met the arched ceiling. It looked as though someone had actually draped the plant around the column rather than carving it in. Gavin cleared his throat but did not move closer. Dalric’s head snapped around and a smile crossed his handsome face. He motioned for Gavin to join him and his guest. A third chair had been placed by Dalric.

Dalric stepped forward to take the sight and found himself nearly tripping over his feet as he caught sight of the two men that faced Dalric. One was tall and lean with light tan hair and a boyishly round face. He always looked happy and friendly and, from what Gavin had heard, he usually was. The man who had been hidden to his right Gavin knew well, though their relationship had been anything but a friendly one. Gavin plopped into the chair before his knees could betray him and cast Dalric a quick glare.

“As I was saying,” Dalric began, “something must be done about Latyssa’s Hunters.”

The tall man nodded and a golden ringlet in his hair caught the light and shone. “We arrested two of them, three others escaped. Although, I do not think the third was a Hunter, from the description my men gave me.”

“Arjac’s men caught some Hunters in the Mekhorbam Forest,” Dalric explained.

Gavin nodded. “Her Hunters are everywhere.” Gavin felt his stomach clench. He knew that he knew more than the other three men combined about the goings on here, but he didn’t have to like it. “Magistrate Arhynn was having problems with them in King Egwen’s Realm, also.”

“They can’t be allowed to roam at will, hunting as they please,” Arjac added with a nod.

Surely they’re not expecting me to leap up, wave my hand and solve this problem. Gavin caught Earth’s Magistrate’s eye and knew that’s exactly what they expected. Sometimes age and experience were problematic in already troubled times. He kept his face neutral and waited for the kings to continue.

“Magistrate Gavin, have you learned exactly what Latyssa’s Hunters are after?” Dalric asked him.

Pavinar’s eyes lighted with a sudden smile that didn’t touch his lips. Arjac also watched him closely.

Gavin cleared his throat and refrained from glaring at Pavinar. He knew that man had a pretty good idea what they were hunting for. “To be perfectly honest, my lord, I really don’t know. Nothing in my network has been able to pin down Latyssa’s target. Magistrate Arhynn, however, felt very strongly that Latyssa was hunting for her daughter.”

Both kings’ faces dropped like stones. Dalric’s eyes bulged but Arjac remained a little more calm. Arjac was the first to grit out a response. “Her daughter? Tyara? Surely Tyara is dead. She died seventeen years ago. My father personally headed the searches for her . . .” Arjac’s voice trailed off, his eyes narrowed in thought.

“That’s impossible,” Dalric got out after a few moments. “Utterly impossible. There’s no way the child could have survived. We would have learned about it before now.”

Gavin offered a shrug and lowered his gaze. “That’s what I told Arhynn. But he seemed sure.”

“Impossible,” Dalric muttered shaking his head.

“Dalric’s right,” Arjac pressed. “We would have heard of something by now. If she inherited even half her father’s power, we would have learned something. You cannot hide something so powerful for such a long time. It’s just not possible.”

Gavin sighed. He hated doing this. He wished Pavinar performed his duties as Magistrate of Earth better and kept his king up to date. He ignored the stab of guilt that he’d been swamped and had not filled in Dalric on many details yet. “Technically, it is possible. If there was someone there to hide it.”

“Someone there?” Pavinar repeated. “Who else would be there? The royal family was slain, except for her.” Pavinar had been born the Realm of Flames. He had been raised to Magistrate before Tyara had even been born and had not actually experienced the havoc Latyssa had reaped upon her Realm, but Pavinar took it very personally. “Maybe the dragons hid her. They could do that, you know.”

“No they couldn’t.” Gavin cast him a quick glare. “She wasn’t even in this dimension.”

“How would you know?” Arjac asked, his brow furrowed.

Gavin felt his cheeks begin to warm and he stamped out his emotions. “The Four Realms were thoroughly searched, everywhere from the deepest merfolk cove to the deepest dwarf mine to the highest tree or drake’s nest. She wasn’t here. Ever. That is what’s impossible.”

“So you believe she could be alive?” Dalric asked in a quiet voice.

Gavin nodded. “I think it’s a strong possibility, yes. I mean, if the drakes had called a new Dragon’s Heir, it wouldn’t be in either of our Realms, now would it? Why would the drakes call someone who swims everyday with dolphins and merfolk to rule over the desert regions? Where’s the logic in that? But if not the princess, then what else would be that important that she would risk Fah-junneh’s wrath by sending soldiers into Realms without permission? Can any one of you think of something that would be worth that?”

Arjac snorted. “I can’t. But I also can’t imagine how you could decide to kill your own child to further your power.”

Dalric and Pavinar nodded.

Gavin drew a deep breath. “I can’t imagine it either, and I don’t have kids. If it is the princess, which we should at least count as a possibility, then that means she will want her throne back. I can’t see a grown woman laying her neck down so the mother she doesn’t know can split it. War will erupt in the Realm of Flames as Latyssa tries to hold something that does not belong to her.”

At the mention of war, both Dalric and Arjac stiffened in their seats. Pavinar looked comfortable as he reclined back.

“What would you recommend as a course of action?” Dalric asked.

“My recommendation, my lord? Support the Dragon’s Heir. I don’t want war any more than you do, but that’s the way it has to be. Latyssa broke the order. She’ll have to pay for that eventually.”

Dalric nodded and shared a glance with Arjac. “Thank you, Magistrate Gavin. Magistrate Pavinar. If you will excuse us, King Arjac and I have things to discuss.”

Gavin rose with a quick but formal bow. He noted that Pavinar offered his king just a bob of the head and suppressed a grimace. War on the horizon, enemies within our stronghold, casualties lost already and a few returning from the dead. This is not good. This can’t be good.

In the hallway, Pavinar caught Gavin’s arm. Pavinar had a few years’ experience on Gavin, but Gavin was far more powerful. Pavinar’s face had paled in worry and what appeared to be fear. “Do your duty.”

Gavin froze. “What did you say?”

“Do you duty,” Pavinar repeated. He released Gavin’s arm and cast a careful glance down the corridor. “You are to do your duty, right?” He shook his head. “Always do it now, I say. Don’t procrastinate to tomorrow what you can do today, right?”

Gavin’s knees nearly sank him to the floor and he was sure his eyes were bulging at Pavinar. “You—”

Pavinar whirled quickly, his hand wrapped around Gavin’s throat. Gavin could see something in the Magistrate’s eyes he had never seen before: hatred. “My loyalties are to my Realm, Gavin. My Realm, my people and my queen.” Pavinar cast a spell to take the two of them to a dark room. By the smell, the lack of sea scent, Gavin guessed they were deep in Arjac’s palace. “Nothing’s going to get in the way of that. Now, you’re going to tell me everything you know. Everything.”