Demon Retribution (48 page)

“Let’s move on,” Sebastian said. “We’ll
worry about rounding up survivors later.”

As they drew closer to the palace, more and
more of the surrounding buildings seemed to have escaped the worst
of the battle. It made sense. If the Kayadon had used the palace as
a base, they wouldn’t want it destroyed.

Anya slowed her pace. “There’s more,” she
whispered.

Sebastian replied, “Can you tell how
many?”

“There are a lot of them.”

From behind windows and around corners, wary
eyes stole glances at them. The demons grew agitated by the
attention. Sonya drew her weapon. Kyra motioned for her to stow it,
but Sonya shook her head.

Cale pulled his sword and said, “We’re
surrounded.”

Kyra put her hands in the air. “Stop,
everyone. Just calm down. They’re probably just scared.”

“My sister is right,” Anya agreed. “I feel
their fear, but there is no aggression—from them, anyway.” She shot
Sebastian an accusatory look, which Sebastian ignored.

Kyra faced the palace, taking in its marbled
walls and tall windows. They were close enough that she could spot
shadows behind the glass, spying down at them, but the reflection
kept their faces hidden.

A few whispers caught her ear. She couldn’t
make out the words. “What are they saying?” she asked Cale.

“They’re speculating on who we are.”

Kyra made her tone authoritative. “Put the
weapons away.”

With only a slight hesitation, Cale did as
she asked, but Sonya looked to Sebastian first. He gave a nod, and
she obeyed.

Kyra took a step forward and squared her
shoulders. Cale followed, staying by her side. “Hello!” she called
out. “I am Princess Kyralyn, daughter of King Alastair.” The
whispering increased, fanning out in all directions. “With me are
my sisters and allies to our people. You need not fear us.”

They waited. One heartbeat, two. A brave
young soul poked his head out from behind a building, warily
studying the group. “Where are the Kayadon?” he asked.

“They’re gone,” she replied. “For now.”

“They are never gone.”

“Well, they’re not here.”

An older gentleman appeared, gently urging
the boy out of sight. He lifted his chin in their direction with
suspicion in his eyes. Hesitantly, he stepped forward, and Cale
moved to her front. She reassured him with a hand on his arm and
pushed him back. He went with little resistance, only a scowl on
his face.

Kyra stood still for the man’s scrutiny as
she did the same to him. His clothing looked worn, yet well kept
and his hair was a bluish grey, indicating he might be very old
indeed. In the back of her mind, recollection sparked, but she
couldn’t place him. Then he grinned, and the spark burned to the
forefront of her mind.

“Fritz?” she breathed.

His smile grew ecstatic. “It is you.” He
turned to yell, “It’s true! They have returned!”

A dozen colorful heads popped up, curious.
Others emerged shyly from seemingly everywhere. The whispering grew
to a roar that slowly dissipated as the news made its way through
the city.

Fritz took a knee. Those near him shared a
brief look and then slowly followed suit until no Faieara was left
standing. The act surprised Kyra and caused a strange sense of
dread to flutter through her. She reached a hand behind her,
seeking support. Cale was there in an instant, gripping her palm.
Fritz looked momentarily taken aback as his eyes shifted between
her and Cale. Then his head lowered in what looked like acceptance.
She realized then what her action had demonstrated. It appeared as
though she was presenting Cale as her future King. It had been
unintentional, but no less true. She glanced at Cale who seemed to
have come to the same conclusion. His expression became a mix of
apprehension and uncertainty. She gave him a reassuring smile,
knowing that Cale would make a strong and ruthless king, but fair
as well. That is…if he wanted the position.

He gave her hand a squeeze as if answering
the unspoken question.

Facing Fritz, she said, “Rise, Fritz. All of
you, rise.”

They did. Kyra observed that not one of them
had a mark from the battle. The magic had healed more than just a
few Kayadon.

“How many of our people have survived?”

“Outside the city, I cannot say. Before the
fighting we were two-thousand strong. Undoubtedly less now.”

“So few?”

In a city that had once held more than
twenty-thousand Faieara? The revelation was discouraging.

He gave a bitter nod. “Many had been moved.
We don’t know where. I like to believe that the majority of our
people escaped into the forest and have kept themselves hidden, but
I do not rely on that hope.”

She thought of all the places where one
could possibly hide. Caves, for sure. There were many scattered
over the hills and mountains. Aside from that, there were secluded
areas where magic pooled, creating all manner of phenomena, from
invisible portals, to dimensional rifts. A clever individual could
use them for travel.

The surrounding group multiplied as Faieara
heard the news. However, they kept their distance, probably due to
the uneasy looks the demons were giving off.

“Are there any healers here?” she asked
loudly for all to hear. Ethan had yet to wake. She suspected a
healer could do nothing to help him. More likely he just needed a
good long rest.

Fritz shook his head. “Healers are rare
these days. If one is found, they are taken immediately. It’s
possible, however, that some reside in the palace. We’ve not had
access since the Kayadon took over.”

Ginn cleared his throat. “They’re kept in
the dungeon.”

Kyra gave him a blank stare. “Dungeon? The
palace doesn’t have a dungeon.”

“It was the first of the alterations done,”
he explained sheepishly. “There are also secret tunnels that run
under the city.”

“What else had been done to my home?”

“That’s all I can recall for the moment. I
have not been invited to the palace in ages.”

She turned toward the palace and beckoned
Fritz and the others to follow. But before she got far, Portia
appeared in that startling way, along with four others. The two men
from the stream side and two women.

Though they were of the Serakian order, they
looked to be from completely different races, none of which Kyra
could place. Portia was the shortest. The others varied in height
with the men being the tallest. One of the women had golden hair
and skin spotted like a leopard. The other was draped in a
skintight black ensemble, making her look dangerous with tightly
braided black hair and charcoal skin.

The dragons tensed, clearly uncomfortable
around the witches.

The Faieara shrank back as Sebastian barked,
“Where have you been?”

While the other Serakians scowled at his
tone, Portia smiled. “Performing one of the strongest protection
spells of my life.” She beamed. “Kayadon outside the perimeter will
not be able to cross the boundary.”

Kyra felt the muscles in her neck relax.
“How far out does it go?”

Portia practically bounced at the question.
Her words came out excited. “At first we were only going to do the
palace and surrounding city, but that massive bubble of magic came
along. We were able to weave our spell through it and use it as a
conduit. Where it ended is where the boundary lines are. I’ll have
to send a team to map it.” Then she finally noticed the wary
Faieara. “Where are we all going?”

Beyond the courtyard, which was overgrown
and unkempt, the white marble steps that led into the palace were
covered with dirt and grime as if they hadn’t been cleaned in
years. Kyra steeled herself and made her way up, trying to temper
her anticipation. Or was it trepidation? She couldn’t decide.

On the short walk here, she’d had a brief
conversation with Fritz about her father. Though his expression
fell in a discouraging way, he was sure the king lived. The Kayadon
had quickly learned the Faieara’s deep loyalty to the royal family
and often showed proof that their King remained unharmed by making
him sit on a balcony and wave down at them, always with an escort
of guards and only for short periods of time.

A small distance past the steps waited
towering oringa wood doors, carved in intricate patterns that
reflected the surrounding forest. She slipped her fingers around
one of the long handles and pulled, but the door didn’t budge.

“Locked?” she muttered.

Nadua came forth to pull on the other side
with the same result. “They were never locked before,” she
said.

The front entrance of the palace had always
been open to the people. Kyra looked to Ginn.

“Ah, yes,” he said. “Mechanized locks. Our
leaders didn’t want intruders.”

Fritz added, “Guards used to fill the
courtyard, as well. We were never allowed this close.”

All eyes turned to Anya, and she came
forward to run a hand along the surface of the ancient door. A
prattle of smooth gears wheezed, followed by a soft click. Then
both doors slid open like the hatch of a ship, revealing the bright
entrance hall.

Two girls huddled on the marble floor next
to the far wall, their eyes stark and faces drained to the color of
their white servant robes. With their hair similar shades of
lavender and braided in the same fashion, they could be
related.

Kyra wondered how many Kayadon they
witnessed crumbling to dust. She approached slowly, not wanting to
frighten them further. They looked too young to recognize the
daughters of the king. “Are you alright?” she asked.

They both flinched as if her words hurt. The
taller of the two said in a tiny voice, “Where is Thedious and
Brash? What happened to them and the other Kayadon?”

“They’re gone,” replied Kyra. “You don’t
need to fear us. We’re here to help.”

An older woman rushed through the entrance,
her face overflowing with emotion. “Oh, my babies.”

As if her legs could no longer carry her
weight, she fell her knees. The girls quickly closed the distance
to clasp the woman with shaky arms.

Kyra averted her gaze, feeling somehow
intrusive. She turned to Ginn. “Which way to the healers?”

Ginn gestured to the right with his
head.

The girl who spoke before lifted her eyes
and sniffled. “The healers have gone. I don’t know who let them
out, but they ran through here moments ago. I watched them scale a
wall in the garden.”

After being acquainted with the Kayadon’s
extraction process, Kyra would hightail it too. “Is there anyone in
the palace who might be working with the Kayadon?”

The girl looked confused. “We all work with
them.”

“Not any more you don’t. You’re free. They
won’t be coming back to the palace.”

The girls locked gazes and then bid their
mother for confirmation.

The woman cupped their faces. “It’s okay.
They’re telling the truth. These are the princesses from
legend.”

Cale, clearly impatient, said in a forceful
tone, “We need to secure the palace. Is there anyone inside we need
to be aware of? Anyone who might want the Kayadon back?”

Though fear returned to her features, the
girl replied with conviction, “No one would want that.”

“How many like yourselves live in the
palace?” Kyra asked.

“Twenty servants. Seven cooks. I don’t know
how many healers there were. The group was large. Then there’s the
King.”

Kyra stilled. “Take me to him.”

Sebastian took command, addressing the
group. “Before we do anything, we should do a sweep of the building
and surrounding area. Round everyone up.”

“I will see my father, now,” Kyra demanded
harsher than she meant to. A sense of urgency crept up her spine.
Her sisters nodded. She caught Anya’s expression and knew she felt
the urgency too.

Tristan jumped in. “We’ll do the sweep. Do
as they wish. Take them to Alestar.”

Kyra gave him an appreciative look. It hit
her again that his father was gone for good. Tristan’s countenance
remained strong, but under the surface, a title wave of loss was
building momentum inside him.

After a moment, Sebastian acquiesced. “Rex,
Sonya, go with the dragons.”

As Tristan and Lear gently set their
father’s body in the corner, Sonya replied, “What about Ethan?”

Kyra turned to the women, still embracing
each other. “Is there a room where our friend can rest?”

The bravest of the young girls stood and
directed them toward a long hall, just off the main entrance. Kyra
recalled that being the location of the servant’s apartments.

“This is my room,” the girl said, stopping
at a door and ushering them in. The space looked smaller than it
should with no windows and three beds crammed inside. “I share it
with my sister and another servant,” the girl added.