Grinning, he recalls the enchanting city, enclosed by a magical barrier that protects its occupants from the raging snow of the high mountain peaks. His mother would be disappointed in his decision to practice black magic, but he has no choice as a descendant of a powerful warlock wielding the magic. Smirking, he places a few droplets of bat blood into a vile, mixing it with hemlock into another cauldron.

  The sound of footsteps disturbs his concentration.

  “Warlock!” King Richard yells.

  Cringing, Elbas places his ingredients on the table, making his way out of the room. He hunkers down as he navigates through the narrow doorway, seeing Richard unsteady on his feet. The heaviness of Elbas’s cloak presses against his shoulders as the water soaks into the fabric. He towers over Richard, looking down at his pale face and yellow eyes. The smell of wine infiltrates the hall’s musty air.

  Richard’s shaky hand taps on the handle of his sword, but that doesn’t intimidate him.

  “Your Majesty. What can I do for you?”

  “I need the details of the plan.” He stumbles over his feet but catches himself against a column. “Can’t you find a better lair?”

  “Patience, Your Majesty.”

  Richard grabs the warlock’s arm, preventing him from walking away.

  Elbas grits his teeth and clenches his jaw, not wanting to fight, but the mere thought of his hand on his arm angers him. He tries to pull free, but the sword’s blade rests against his neck as he does, and the cold metal rubs against his skin as he gulps. He watches the king’s fingers nervously rubbing against the blade and decides not to underestimate the drunken man.

  “As I promised, you will have your family’s home on the full moon in a few days,” Elbas brags. “There is no need for aggression, Your Majesty.”

  “You have brought nothing but endless promises and disappointment. My brother will never surrender his lands, as long as he lives.”

  “Death is always lurking.”

  “Don’t disappoint me,” he slurs before he stumbles down the hall into the deeper parts of the catacombs.

  There is no need to worry about the king getting lost in the maze of ruins because most passageways are blocked by debris. There have been several times the royal knights have found him passed out while down in the underground. It’s sometimes amazing how the old tombs and crypts still stand, but he doesn’t have time to babysit him and needs to return to his lair.

  Jacob and Louis exit the shadows, joining Elbas.

  The two men have been loyal companions, since he arrived at Broken Rest many years ago. Recruiting men from Splintered Vale was easy, offering them money from the hidden treasure room in the catacombs. There was no need to inform King Richard of the discovery, for each would have a different agenda with the money. There was not enough to restore the homeland.

  A swift wave of his hand ignites a flame as they enter another smaller space of his lair.

  “Do you have news?” asks the warlock.

  “Nelia arrived at Port Welch a few days ago. Jonathan’s army is weak, trusting, and blinded by what is coming,” says Jacob with a crooked smile.

  “You both will help me subdue the sorceress. Do not be fooled by her beauty and lack of powers because she is deadly, like a venomous snake.”

  The Elders refuse to break their loyalty to the High Priestess Aurora, until Elbas proves himself by destroying Nelia. He still doesn’t trust the Elders, but they will have no choice but to reinstate him as an Elder and acknowledge his birthright.

  Stirring the ash in the fireplace with a stoker, he envisions Nelia’s shock as he overpowers her on the full moon. A child of darkness will bring more power than he could ever imagine—a sacrifice he must make to get the Elders to their knees. He will worry about how to take the child away from Nelia in the future, but now he must keep to his plan.

  “You are both dismissed.”

  He grabs a cloth from the table, wipes the sweat from his face, and stirs the toxic mixture. Bats scatter as a small explosion erupts, and the mixture blankets the ceiling. Gazing at the darkness of the liquid, he focuses on Nelia’s beautiful face, bringing her image before him. He chants three times, Blind the sorceress’s thoughts, powers, and intuition of what is coming, but allow her to feel the danger of being unable to see what is before her.

  5

  Richard

  Broken Rest

  Acandle flickers on the desk as the rain hammers against the royal chamber balcony, and a gust of wind brings darkness into the room. He brushes the flint and steel together several times, until a spark ignites the candle again, illuminating his surroundings. The storm’s rage will bring the rain needed for the drought-stricken land, but flooding the kingdom’s streets will be unavoidable.

  A flare brightens the horizon as lightning strikes something.

  Richard steadies himself in the broken chair, listening to the wind battering the single tree outside his window as the branches scrape against the glass. The raging waves crash against the cliff, echoing the turmoil in his mind as vivid memories of him being torn away from his mother’s arms play continuously as if it is happening. The goblet rocks back and forth in his unsteady hand as he guzzles more wine.

  He never wanted to challenge his brother, but what choice does he have? His kingdom is falling into ruins, the crops are not growing fast enough, and illness rapidly spread throughout, bringing death. If only he had been born first, there may have been hope his father would have chosen Jonathan, but he was too comfortable in his mother’s womb to fight harder. It’s still unclear what drove their parents apart, so whatever the reason, they are now distant and enemies.

  He swallows more wine.

  There were no tears shed between either his mother or his brother the day his father tore him from her arms many years ago, or by his father, that he recalls. The only sorrow he can remember is from himself as he watched Splintered Vale fade in the distance from the carriage window. His father chattered with his mistress, leaving him alone to grieve the loss of his family, friends, belongings, and home.

  The candle flickers.

  “My queen, what brings you here?” he slurs, toasting his wife.

  “I know our arrangement is difficult, but we must talk.”

  “Please, come into the light.” He pours another drink, spilling wine on the floor and offering her a glass. “What brings you here this late at night, my love?”

  “I am with child,” she quivers. “He will bring peace to our home and happiness to you, Your Majesty.”

  “I am not entitled to happiness,” he says, stumbling toward the window as the voices in his head intensify. “I am cursed.”

  “Richard, I do not believe that. Our kingdom has had some unfortunate luck, which is all. Are you happy with the news I have brought you?”

  Her hands tremble as she wraps her arms around her belly, smiling softly.

  The news is good, but is it real? All their years of marriage have brought disappointment. Grabbing onto the desk, he eases his way to his knees, embraces her, and rests his head on her belly. The idea that she will give birth to two sons is scary to think about, especially after the turmoil and pain he has gone through with his brother, but there is always hope it doesn’t happen. He wipes the tears on his gown.

  “Richard, you will be an amazing father and mentor. This is a cause for celebration for our family and kingdom.”

  “This news is delightful, my love. We will celebrate, after I return home.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. I will await your return.”

  The illusion of blood seeps through his fingers and drips onto the floor as a reminder that he is the sole person responsible for his parents’ deaths. It was tricky to take out his mother, but with the help of the warlock, the task was quickly accomplished. Removing his father was not as challenging, but no matter the rumors around The Vale, he will never admit to either incident.

  Shivering.

  He turns quickly, scanning the room to see he is alone, except for the shadowy figure sitting on his bed. Not human, but a dreadful being who often appears when his headaches intensify. At first, he thought the figure was something the warlock had conjured up, but after further investigation, the entity turned out to be something he was imagining, and it seemed no one could see it but him. Fearing the ridicule of instability, he refuses to tell anyone after he divulged the situation to his doctor, and thankfully, that person is no longer around.

  Richard raises his glass to toast the being.

  “What do you think?” asks Richard.

  “What do you think?” echoes the shadowy figure.

  “I should keep my wife close for the safety of my heir,” replies Richard.

  “Traitors are among the loyal servants. Keep those who could harm you close,” responds the shadowy figure.

  “The traitors and their family will hang in my courtyard,” Richard mocks. “Until we meet again, my friend.”

  The shadowy figure vanishes.

  6

  Victoria

  Broken Rest

  The coastal storm intensifies with lightning flooding the dark sky, and thunder crashes as the heavy rain continues to pound Broken Rest. Small fires burn around camps sheltered from the rain to warm the settlers. Victoria hurries through the castle grounds, seeking cover amongst the shadows as she races toward the stables to meet her informant. She dodges two guards chatting, trying to keep a low profile.

  There are rumors that her husband has been plotting to kill her for not giving him an heir, but she hopes this pregnancy will help derail his plan, for now. She fears another miscarriage will lead her to the guillotine, but she can’t think of it now. Although she know none of the losses were her fault, the guilt continues to trouble her as she watches him with his mistresses, who have also never provided him with a child.

  Lord Barrett removes his hood as she enters the stables.

  Barrett is a loyal servant to Victoria and her family, even before he was sent to protect her. His arrival was timed shortly after her marriage to her husband, and he witnessed the murder of her maidens that destroyed all ties to her homeland. Or that is what the king believed. The loneliness and isolation from her family have been torture, but there is hope she will no longer be in seclusion.

  “My queen, I bring news from your parents.” He hands over a sealed letter. “They wait for your word to complete the extraction.”

  “You will receive a reward for your bravery. You continue to sacrifice, and your loyalty is more than I have ever requested.” She gently touches his shoulder. “I don’t often thank you, but I am grateful you are here with me.”

  “It is my honor to serve you and your family.”

  “I feel the time is right, Lord Barrett. Please send word to my parents I wish to come home.”

  “My queen.” He nods.

  She sits in the empty horse stall, staring at the letter as tears flow down her cheeks. There is still fear she will not make it out of Broken Rest, even with her family’s help, but her husband’s mental state is increasingly worrisome as the days continue to pass. Using her dagger, she opens the letter.

  Our dearest child, we want the fire to burn once again. Send us the word, and we will ensure your safe arrival at Port Welch, where you will board a ship to Firestone Bay. Do not fear your husband’s wrath. Your army is ready to defend your honor. Love, your mother.

  Victoria drops the letter into a fire outside the stables.

  The hallway to her bedchamber is quiet and empty at this time of night, but she cannot take the chance that someone may be lurking. She keeps moving. Once inside her room, she locks the door and climbs into her bed, pulling the blanket closer to her head as the howling wind brings chills. The sound of her heart crashing against her chest keeps her awake, and she fears her husband will discover her plans.

  VICTORIA JOLTS UPRIGHT.

  The warlock’s auburn eyes penetrate her thoughts, preventing a peaceful transition from her dreams, as the images of him calling her name flash through her mind like a raging waterfall with no end. He has been close to her husband for years, but there has never been proof of his role in turning her husband into the man he is today. Nonetheless, she doesn’t and will never trust him.

  She runs her hand through her matted hair as she tries to clear her head of the warlock’s gesture of peace. A dream or vision that she was not expecting. Why now? Does he know of her plans to return to her homeland? She pours her water as she gazes into the night. The cold liquid quenches her dry throat as she tries to figure out his motive.

  She grabs her robe and a small dagger.

  The hallways seem empty except for a few bats fluttering in the distance, seen by the fading light of a few torches. She enters a secret passageway hidden behind a bookshelf in the corridor. As she closes the door, the sound of stones scraping against each other echoes into the emptiness below. The spark from the flint and stone she carries ignites the candle in the wall sconce, partially illuminating the winding stairs. She grabs a torch off the wall, lighting it before entering the depths of the darkness.

  Partway down, her foot slips on the damp stairs, and she grabs onto an old chain to gain her balance. Her heart hammers against her chest as she takes shallow breaths, leaning against the wall. Victoria can’t recall the last time she entered the catacombs, but she can remember Richard showed her around the tombs shortly after she arrived. Her homeland is primarily built on lava rock, with limited underground tombs, and she was amazed while journeying through the passageways.

  The coolness of the wet atmosphere enters her lungs as she takes a deep breath before moving forward. The uneven darkness creates an eerie atmosphere, bringing the fear someone could be hidden in the shadows, waiting for her. The flame ignites higher, scorching the ends of her hair, and she quickly pushes her long hair over her shoulders. The burnt scent graces her nose as she continues to descend the stairs.

  She takes another passageway that is a steeper path to the catacombs and the warlock’s lair. The circular steps continue to the lower level, once built for those to escape the castle in case of an invasion, but all exits have since been destroyed. Rats scurry underfoot as she trudges through the standing water, shivering as the cold water penetrates her slippers and soaks the bottom of her robe. Sighing, she pulls the heavy robe out of the water and climbs to a higher platform.

  Entering the warlock’s labyrinth, she carefully walks toward the light in the distance, where the warlock mixes blood, black feathers, and several toads in a cauldron. Elbas waits patiently as the smoke clears. A tiny dragon spreads its black wings, stretching as if it had just been born, and a cloud of smoke escapes its nostrils. Elbas brushes his hand over the spiny scales, telling him to leave.

  The dragon screeches, flying past Victoria.

  “Your Majesty, welcome.”

  “I am concerned about your continued efforts to influence my husband on the decisions involving our kingdom. Why can’t we all live peacefully without trying to take over Splintered Vale?”

  “I take orders from the king without asking questions, as you should. I have done nothing but help your kingdom.”

  Ignoring him, she continues. “I saw a dragon you brought forth with black magic. Our ancestors placed laws forbidding the usage even for a dark soul like you.” Her finger clears a path of dust off the table. “What are your plans for the beast?”

  “It’s only a creature that will help balance nature. He will soar down to the Needle Point Chasm to join the other beasts and feast on the sea creatures of the Keep.” He pushes back his oily hair. “No one will believe what you saw tonight.”

  “Is that why you summoned me? To show me that you are more dangerous than a snake ambushing its prey?”

  “Indeed.” He leans closer to her, his unpleasant breath caressing her cheeks. “After years of you failing to produce an heir, I have gifted you a child who will be born on the next full moon. A gift I can take away swiftly.”

  She cringes. “I don’t believe you have such powers. If your goal was to bring me here to threaten me, you have not done it. I will never side with you, warlock. My husband would not stand for any of this.”

  “Is he not as dangerous as I?” His finger slides down her face. “You will tell no one we spoke tonight, or death will make an appearance.”

  She shakes her head as tears swell in her eyes.

  “Close your eyes.”

  Victoria jerks awake, finding herself in her husband’s bed.

  She realizes the warlock is more powerful than she could imagine and knows now that she must flee. Richard’s arm rests on hers, and she struggles to free herself, but he forces her closer to him as he kisses her neck. She closes her eyes as his alcoholic breath embraces her lips, and she hopes the moment will be over quickly.

  He chokes on his saliva, pulling away from her, and grips a pillow, going back to sleep.

  Taking a deep breath, she grabs the hilt of her dagger, knowing she can end all her problems now and flee into the night.

  7

  Richard

  Forbidden Forest

  King Richard stands on the cliff that overlooks the Forbidden Forest as he twirls his walking stick. Two knights stand beside him, Lord Barrett and Lord Reese. One has betrayed him, but he can’t deal with that now because he needs their protection to navigate the dense forest. Somewhere deep within is the warlock’s second home and the meeting place for today. It is still unclear why he requested their presence here, of all places, instead of the catacombs, so he wouldn’t have to travel, but there was no option to argue.

  Lord Reese asks, “I don’t understand why we couldn’t have talked with him at the castle.”